Chapter 5

~ Sylara's POV ~

I parted my mouth, but the words wouldn't come out. Did he just ask if we knew each other? After all the hours we spent naked in Cabo, with his massive hands and body gripping and pounding mine? Was he truly pretending to forget the way he came inside me again and again?

I tried to speak, maybe remind him of the specific, intimate things we did, but the shock of his words left me speechless.

"Miss Sylara," he began. The sweet, deep rumble of my name made my core clench, and wetness immediately bloomed between my thighs.

He had called my name sweetly. Maybe he remembered me. Maybe we could repeat Cabo—I wouldn't mind him bending me over and fucking me hard right here on his desk.

But my hope crashed when he spoke again: "Get out."

I blinked, stunned by his words. Why was he acting this way? Was he being serious when he said he didn't know me? But he called me Little Flower that night, right before he drove his dick deep into me, like I was one of the most precious things to him.

"Professor..." I started, but a lady walked in without knocking. He looked thrilled to see her, his eyes already mentally stripping her naked.

"Am I interrupting something, Nick?" she asked, glancing between us. Nick? She called him Nick. Do they know each other? Was he going to fuck her until she screamed the way he did with me?

"Not at all, Thalia. She was just leaving." He stood, his massive frame looming, then walked to the door, opening it wide.

"Leave my office and don't come back unless it's about your grades," he commanded, his voice firm and final, laced with cold dismissal.

His harsh dismissal was heartbreaking. I know I told him it was a one-night fling, but after the hours of steamy, animalistic sex in Cabo, his coldness shattered me.

I left, telling myself the problem was me. He'd forgotten; I should too. He was my professor, maybe twice my age. I needed to forget his expert touch, his deep, hungry kiss, and most of all... his tempting, addictive dick.

I needed to focus on my studies so I would be able to graduate and get a job... and finally move out of my parents' house.

"Lara!" Ashley called my name loudly as she approached me. "Why did you leave like that?" she asked.

I forced a smile, lying about needing to ask the professor a few questions. I couldn't tell her the man who fucked me senseless was our new professor and now claimed he didn't know me.

Ashley's lips curved into a naughty smile. "You also find him hot, don't you? I bet his dick would be a good ride."

I only smiled. Ashley had always been naughty, and I was already used to her dirty, explicit talk. Despite her naughty thoughts, she doesn't have a steady boyfriend, but neither is she a virgin. I can't even count the number of times she got pounded by a random guy.

Ashley and I went to the cafeteria to have our lunch. While we dug in, Alfred, my ex-boyfriend, entered the cafeteria with the girl he replaced me with—the girl who he claimed was a better fuck than me, whereas he was the one who failed to bring me to orgasm in bed.

While he introduced his new girlfriend to his friends, I pretended that I didn't see him. He did the same too, and by the time school ended, everyone was gossiping about me.

The headline was that Alfred had dumped me for another girl. I paid no attention to their endless gossip and went back home.

Just when I thought I could take a nap after having my shower, my mom had to ruin it by barging into my room.

"I talked to Alfred's mom. She told me you and Alfred haven't made up."

I pretended not to have heard her, closing my eyes like she didn't exist.

"Don't pretend you can't hear me, Lara. Stand up from that bed and explain why you haven't made up with Alfred."

"Lara!" she called my name loudly, and I was forced to shut my eyes open.

"Didn't I make it clear to you that Alfred and I are over? What else do you want?"

"To fix your relationship with him. It's essential for couples to fight, but they always find a way to fix their problems. That's what you should be doing, Lara!" my mom said.

I knew why she wanted me to get back together with Alfred, even though I had told her he was the one who suggested we break up.

My mom belonged to a women's organization where Alfred's mom is the head. She wants to keep the title of being the head's future in-law without caring how I feel.

But I wasn't going to do as she said. It hadn't been a month since we broke up, and he's already flaunting his new girlfriend around campus, making everyone have this illusion that he dumped me.

Come to think of it, it wasn't an illusion—he dumped me, and I immediately got fucked by another man who claimed he doesn't remember me.

Maybe I was just too unlucky with men.

"Go to Alfred right now. Beg him to take you back. I'm sure he will. You can't just end your relationship with me. I don't want to lose face in his mom's eyes."

I knew it. She cared more about her social standing and reputation than she cared about her own daughter's happiness.

It stung to know that she didn't even bother to ask if I was hurt by what Alfred did to me, all she cared about was her reputation at the women's organization.

"Leave my room, Mom. I want to be alone," I said firmly.

"You can't ask me to leave when we aren't done talking!" she shot back.

I stood up from the bed and pushed her out of my room, locking the door. She yelled and banged the door from outside, stating that she was going to make sure I got back together with Alfred.

This was why I wanted to graduate quickly, have a stable job, so I would be able to leave this house. Once I get my own apartment, I won't have anyone barging into my room and destroying my privacy however they please.

My mom continued her loud yelling and blabbing, talking non-stop. I had to block my ears with headphones so I wouldn't hear her voice anymore.

At dinner, I didn't come out of my room to eat with them. My mom didn't bother to call me, and I wasn't surprised. Whenever I don't do things according to her wishes, she often acts like I wasn't her daughter.

I had always done whatever she wanted, but not anymore. I was going to do things according to my own desires and needs.

When I went to school the next day, students, especially my classmates—were still gossiping about me, mocking me that after all my lovey-dovey with Alfred around campus, he kicked me to the curb.

"Are you okay?" Ashley asked, concern laced in her voice.

I gave her a sincere smile. "I'm fine, Ash. They can gossip all they want."

Lectures began, but he didn't come to lecture us today because we weren't having his class. I didn't care. After how he spoke to me, I wanted nothing to do with that heartless, gorgeous man.

"Who's Sylara Adams?" a male student asked when he entered my class.

I raised my hand to signal that I was the one he was looking for. "Professor Nicholas wants to see you in his office."

My brows arched, wondering why he wanted to see me after heartlessly denying that we spent a night together fucking.

"Why does Professor Nicholas want to see you?" Ashley nudged me. I could only shake my head because I didn't know why.

Curious to know why he was looking for me, I went to see him in his office.

"Come in," his voice spoke after I knocked.

I creaked the door open, and the moment I stepped into his office, he yanked me onto the desk, his lips hovered dangerously close to mine, his breath mingling with mine.

"What... what are you doing, Professor?" I asked, stunned by his sudden, aggressive reaction.

"Who's Alfred?" he asked, his tone low, dangerous, and possessive.

Did he hear about the news too? But what does Alfred dumping me have to do with him? "He's my ex-boyfriend," I managed to answer, trying to climb down from the desk, but he didn't let me.

He gripped my shoulders possessively, his eyes darting between my lips and the exposed flesh of my bare neck and collarbone.

"Little Flower," he whispered in his deep voice.

Little Flower? Does that mean he remembered me? Before I could ask, he claimed possession of my lips with a deep, grinding kiss.

I should've pushed him away.

I should've shoved his big body off.

But I didn't. 

When I felt the warmth of his lips on mine, I instantly turned to a puddle. I surrendered to his possessive grip.

I kissed him back, my fingers finding their way into his thick, gelled hair, pulling him closer.

Then he did the unthinkable by sliding his hand inside my jeans, his fingers seeking the lace of my panties.

"Professor," I moaned, as my liquid soaked his hand in a rush of instant desire.