Page 9 of Stone Crest: Rise of a Raven
Presley.
I shuffle down, sliding into the seat next to her on the end of the aisle. The professor has yet to move. His hand is frozen on the piece of chalk he’s writing with, and his back is still towards the class. He hasn’t spoken.
My bag drops next to my feet as I pull out my book and spiral. Flipping open the spiral, I fold it, revealing a blank page and click my pen open, at least giving the illusion I’m taking notes and I’m not completely irresponsible.
Ever so slowly, he places the chalk down and turns to face us.
Oh my…….
Mid thirties. Stout. Wide, broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair that’s longer on top that sweeps down almost covering a pair of golden, caramel eyes.
Familiar caramel eyes. Caramel eyes that peered into mine while he was balls deep inside of me less than eight hours ago.
His eyes meet mine, sending another shot of warmth through my body, straight down to my painted black toenails. I glance away, then back, trying to reconcile that my professor who’s actively glaring at me, is also the same man who shared my bed with me last night.
“Let me be clear.”
My eyes snap to the rasp that just fell from his lips.His voice.It demands attention, just like last night, and right now his undivided attention is onme.Golden eyes sparkle as he pauses his announcement.
“Tardiness will not be tolerated," he practically snarls. “If you’re going to be late, don’t bother coming at all.” He keeps his narrowed eyes on me, causing every inch of skin on my body to pebble in goose bumps.
He almost looks angry that I’m here. Like I had any idea who he was. Like I had any idea he was a mythology professor. He was on a motorcycle for fucks sakes.
He’s not calling me out directly, but everyone in this room knows he’s talking to me. I could break the eye contact, but frankly I’ve grown tired of men who need to be knocked down a peg. So instead of backing down, I stare straight back, clicking my pen closed. My blood boils as I reach for my bag, shoving the spiral back inside and push to my feet.
“What are you doing?” Presley whispers.
With my bag on my shoulder, I step out from the aisle. His eyes remain angry as I slowly walk backwards to the door. His nostrils flare when I reach behind me, gripping onto the lever. He’s challenging me, and he may not know it, but he picked the wrong girl. I don’t have anything to lose at this point. With the room still silent, I shove open the door and strut out, leaving a brooding professor behind.
Chapter six
Locke
“Do you have to be such a dick?” Declan plops down in my chair and kicks his feet up on my desk.
I swat them off. “Get out.”
He snickers and places his three thousand dollar loafers right back on the top of my syllabus, crossing one ankle over the other.
He’s my best friend, and just because he donates millions to this university, he thinks he can show up anytime he wants. My lecture class just let out, and it was…. interesting to say the least.
“You were a complete dick to the poor girl.”
I take a few strides one way, then turn and pace towards the other.
“Please, she’s an adult.”
She. Dark hair.Bluest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen.
I stretch my neck, ignoring the way I feel a tingle in my fingertips. The memory of them grazing across her smooth skin.
“I’m just saying. You might try something calledpleasantry,”Declan suggests.
Pleasantry.He talks like he’s in a different century. I guess he is considering he’s a three hundred year old vampire.
I’m pleasant. I just have a specific aversion to a lack of respect. Which is what being late is. Add in the fact that I’m oddly…. agitated.Why isshehere. I knew it the minute she stepped into the room. Her scent. The way the air shifted.
“I’ll have to give it a try,” I deadpan.
