Her Hockey Stepbrother, Her Worst Enemy, Her Beloved

When I woke up this morning, I thought I knew what I was walking into. But that didn’t stop the nerves from tangling in my stomach like a tight, twisting knot. The first-day jitters hit me harder than expected, like a gust of wind whipping wild beneath my skin, cold and anxious and electric.

I wasn’t even sure I was in the right room. The paper in my hand filled with instructions and classroom numbers, said I was. But no one else had arrived yet. The lecture hall stood empty and echoing, giving me too much time to overthink.

I slid into a seat at the very back, hoping to stay out of sight. If I didn’t make eye contact, or didn’t speak to anyone, maybe I could just observe, learn how things worked before being noticed. The silence wrapped around me like a blanket… but not a warm one. More like the hush before a storm.

Still, beneath the nerves, something else stirred. Something darker and Hungrier.

Maybe it was the tightness between my thighs, the pulse already drumming low in my body before the day had even started. Maybe it was the way I had barely slept last night, too wired, too restless.

Whatever it was, I needed a release. A sharp, fast escape. Just one little fantasy to get me through the morning.

I clenched my thighs together and waited. The day will be over soon..

The door burst open. A swarm of students poured in like they’d all been waiting for some invisible bell. Laughter, voices, bags hitting desks, chaos filled the air. And then, a voice low, confident, a little too close.

“Are you new?”

A blonde boy leaned in, his piercing blue eyes flicking across my face like he already knew I was flustered. He was cute objectively but far too young. Too. . . boyish. Not what I craved.

“Yes,” I replied. “CSC class.”

His grin spread, cocky and playful. “You’re in the wrong room, baby girl. CSC is next door.”

My heart dropped. Shit.

Now I had to stand up, interrupt everything, and walk out while everyone watched. Regret burned hot across my chest. Why had I chosen the back row?

“Maybe I’ll just sit this one out,” I mumbled.

He laughed. “I wouldn’t want a beautiful girl like you slipping through my fingers, but I don’t think you want to miss Professor Collins’ class. Especially not on your first day.”

He winked. I barely heard the rest. Professor Collins. That name echoed in my head like a warning, or a promise.

I muttered a quick thank you and practically fled.

The next lecture hall looked nearly identical. Not my fault, I told myself. Anyone could’ve made the mistake. But as soon as I opened the door, all eyes turned to me. And just like that, I froze.

Too many faces. Too much attention.

Without thinking, I shut the door again. Breathed. Reopened it slower. And stepped in.

This time, I was painfully aware of everything: the way my short black skirt clung to my thighs, how bare my legs were, how the tan top under my ripped jacket dipped just a little too low. I’d dressed to feel confident, but now, I felt exposed. Stripped bare.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I whispered to the man at the front of the room. “I walked into the wrong classroom.”

He didn’t look at me right away, but when he spoke, his voice rippled through the room. Deep. Authoritative. Smooth like whiskey.

“Find a seat, Miss…?”

“Lily,” I replied, barely louder than a breath.

“Miss Lily. Sit and see me in my office after class.”

That made me look up, really look up at him.

And sweet God.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for Professor Collins.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark, fitted lumberjack shirt tucked into slacks that hugged his hips and thighs too well for a man who had no business being that sexy. His hair was a thick golden blonde, cropped close, and his jaw, sharp, unshaven, carved from stone, tightened when he spoke. Even from across the room, I could see the veins in his forearms as he adjusted a folder on the desk.

He looked like he belonged in a fantasy. My fantasy.

And based on the heat in my cheeks and the flutter in my core, he already was.

I sat quickly, heart hammering. The seat I chose placed me directly across from him, close enough to watch, far enough not to draw attention again. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible.

As he started lecturing, my eyes locked on his lips. My thoughts… slipped.

In my head, I imagined them moving down my neck, over my chest, sucking one nipple into his mouth while his hand teased the other. My thighs clenched. My core pulsed.

I tried to focus, but all I could think about was how his hands would feel tangled in my hair, how he might growl my name while pulling me tighter against his chest.

God, I was getting wet. In the middle of class. On my first day.

My fingers twitched in my lap. I rubbed my thighs together, subtle but desperate. The desk shielded me, but not enough. If I moved too much, someone would notice. If he noticed…

Shit. That thought made it worse.

I bit my lip, tried to breathe evenly. Tried to stay sane. But every time he turned, every time his shirt stretched across his back or those slacks tightened around his ass, I wanted to slide my hand under my skirt and give myself the relief I was aching for.

Then, thank God! A distraction.

A girl beside me leaned in with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Lily. Don’t mind Professor Collins, he’s always that grumpy.”

Grumpy? I nearly laughed. If she only knew.

“Thanks,” I murmured. “I guess I made a bad impression.”

“Just grovel a bit in his office. Trust me, you don’t want to be on his bad side.”

Her words made my stomach clench, but not with fear.

What did she think he would do in that office?

What did I want him to do?

I packed up quickly after the class, my heartbeat pounding, but before I could ask her name, she’d already disappeared into the crowd. And now, I had to face him. Alone. Behind a closed door. Just me… and the man I couldn’t stop thinking about.

My skin tingled as I headed down the hall. The warm, wicked ache between my legs hadn’t faded. If anything, it was worse.

Professor Collins was waiting and I was ready to be taught.