Page 1 of The Professor's Possession (Crystal River Billionaire Brothers)

PROLOGUE

SPENCER

Could it be possible?Could I truly be in love with a dream?

I toss and turn in my sleep, my mind restless – and all because of one thing.

Night after night, I have been dreaming abouther.

My perfect woman.

The girl who haunts my nighttime visions with her bewitching face.

The embodiment of my deepest desires.

She is not real. She simply can’t be.

She is, simply put,impossible.

But I want her.

This whole thing is unusual. Dreams seldom linger in my memory, and in those infrequent instances when they do, they manifest as mere fragments: rudimentary, half-forgotten snippets of inconsequentiality that I usually dismiss without too much consideration.

But not this time.

Not with this impossible woman.

It is an understatement to say that no dream I have ever had has been close to being comparable toher.

Every night for the last week, she has visited the realm of my slumber, her wavy shoulder-length hair cascading around her like a halo of silk. She is as existent – as living flesh and blood - as any individual I am acquainted with in the material world. Her expressive eyes, a rich hue of coffee brown the same color as her hair, are concealed beneath elegantly arched, lush eyebrows. Her lips, generously full and adorned with a precisely applied layer of crimson gloss, emanate an enticing vitality. Her complexion boasts a creamy whiteness.

As a man whose veins course with testosterone-fueled fervor, I find myself irresistibly drawn to her, akin to a fluttering moth entranced by a beckoning flame. No words in the English language can encapsulate the yearning I harbor for her within the confines of my sleep.

She is the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes upon.

She is my perfect woman.

But who is she?

She is college-age. A striking-looking young woman in the pinnacle of her prime and beauty.

But she only exists in the mind, Spencer.

I must remember that simple fact before my thoughts get too carried away, but it is hard to resist her dreamy spells when my entire being is lusting after her like a lion uncaged.

She always wears the same thing every night: blue jeans that wrap around her skinny legs irresistibly - a gray hoodie - black sneakers. I can't fathom why my mind conjures up her wearing that outfit. It is something so simple that it screams to be ignored, like she wants to be the unassuming girl next door who doesn’t stand out in a crowd.

But I can’t ignore her.I really can’t ignore that face. That shy smile. Those intelligent, guarded eyes. I can see that, within her, there exists an intricate world, a rich tapestry that is simply begging for me to explore.

I really fucking want her.

Is this apparition just some deep-seated fantasy I have? Some boyish infatuation that’ll surely pass with time as all teenage daydreams do?

No, she feels a hell of a whole lot more than that.

In all my dreams, she stands in a park - green grass under her feet and a gentle breeze in her hair, a generic children’s playground far in the distance behind her. A setting so perfectly ordinary, just like her choice of clothing.

Butsheisnot ordinary.

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