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PROLOGUE

**************** The cacophony of the Blackwood College hallway bled through the heavy oak door—a chaotic symphony of slamming lockers, shrill laughter, and the distinctive squeak of sneakers on linoleum. Inside the office, the air was stagnant, heavy with the scent of old paper. Adrian Vale sat rigid behind his mahogany desk, his knuckles white where he gripped the edges of the blotter. Across from him stood a female student, her posture eager, her voice a droning hum about extra credit and thesis statements that Adrian struggled to process. ‎ ‎His focus was shattered, dragged violently downward by the wet, insistent heat engulfing his cock. ‎ ‎Under the desk, hidden in the shadowed cavern between Adrian’s thighs, Ryder Knight knelt. The star hockey player, the campus playboy, the man who made a habit of ruining GPAs and hearts alike, was currently doing his level best to ruin Adrian’s career. Ryder’s mouth was a sinful weapon, his tongue swirling expertly around the sensiti

CHAPTER 1 ~ ICE AND EMBER

RYDER'S POV The sharp scent of Zamboni polish and sweat hangs heavy in the cold air of the rink, a stench that Ryder Knight usually breathes in like oxygen. Today, it tastes like ash. His skates carve hard into the ice, sending a spray of white shavings into the air as he dekes around a defender, his focus narrowing down to the net and the black rubber puck sliding off his stick. The scoreboard glows with a lead—his team is up by two—but the only number that matters right now is the one on the back of the jersey checking him from the periphery. Kai Miller. Kai is a shadow on Ryder’s right, aggressive and relentless. The history between them isn’t just written in past friendships; it’s etched into the bruises of their last encounter. Ryder had fucked Kai’s sister, a decision made in the heat of the moment that had incinerated years of camaraderie. Now, every time they step onto the ice, it’s a war. Kai wants blood, and Ryder is happy to spill it, but right now, he wants the win

CHAPTER 2 ~ CRACKING THE STATUE

RYDER'S POV The Friday night air hangs heavy and humid over the sprawling estate, thick with the scent of chlorine, expensive cologne, and the sharp, yeasty tang of spilled beer. Inside the mansion’s massive glass-walled sunroom, the atmosphere is a suffocating heat of bodies and sound. The bass from the speakers thumps against the glass panels, a rhythmic vibration that matches the pulse of the crowd. Half-naked bodies writhe in the flickering LED lights, a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. Near the infinity pool, a couple is going at it hard on a daybed, the woman’s head thrown back in a silent scream as the man pounds into her, oblivious to the partygoers splashing in the water nearby. The smell of sex mingles with the alcohol fumes, creating a heady cocktail that saturates the room. Ryder lounges on a velvet sectional in the center of the chaos, the undisputed king of his parents’ domain. He takes a long drag from a cigarette, exhaling a plume of gray smoke that drifts toward

CHAPTER 3 ~ WHISPERED GAUNTLET

RYDER'S POV The fluorescent lights of the lecture hall hum with a low, headache-inducing buzz, a sound that usually drives Ryder straight back to his dorm room and into a bottle of cheap whiskey. But today is different. Today, the air tastes like ozone and opportunity. Ryder sits in the very front row, center stage, his legs spread wide in a posture of casual dominance. He taps a pen against the pristine surface of the desk, a rhythmic click-click-click that betrays the adrenaline spiking through his veins. It’s all because of a stupid, reckless game of Truth or Dare on Friday night. A dare. A bet. Make the new Literature professor fall for him. If he succeeds, the tab is cleared. If he fails, he’s the one paying for the weekend’s debauchery. Ryder hates losing more than he hates 8:00 AM classes. He usually avoids this specific lecture hall like the plague. The previous instructor, a woman with a mustache that rivaled most men’s and a penchant for wearing polyester blends that clu

CHAPTER 4 ~ FLIRTING

RYDER'S POV The silence in the lecture hall is thick enough to choke on, heavy with the dust of chalk and the collective held breath of fifty students. The question—Are you gay?—hangs in the air like smoke, curling around the fluorescent lights. It isn't a whisper. Adrian grips the edges of the oak podium until his knuckles turn the color of old parchment. He stares at Ryder, who is slouching in his seat, legs spread wide in a display of dominance that takes up too much space. The shock hits Adrian in the chest, a sudden spike of adrenaline that makes his heart hammer against his ribs. He clears his throat, the sound scraping through the quiet room. "Why..." Adrian starts, his voice cracking slightly before he forces it into a lower register. He adjusts his glasses, buying a second of time. "Why is that relevant to the syllabus, Mr. Knight?" Ryder shrugs, a fluid roll of one shoulder. He wears a smirk that tugs at the corner of his mouth, revealing a flash of white teeth. H

CHAPTER 5 ~ PREDATOR'S GAME

ADRIAN'S POV The classroom door clicks shut behind Ryder, and the sudden silence presses against Adrian's eardrums like a physical weight. He stands frozen at the front of the lecture hall, his knuckles white where they grip the edge of his podium. The bastard. The absolute audacity of that student, saying those things in front of everyone, looking at him with those heavy-lidded eyes like he wanted to— Adrian releases the podium and turns away from the empty seats. He needs to move. Needs to put distance between himself and the spot where Ryder stood, where those words hung in the air like smoke he couldn't stop inhaling. His shoes click against the linoleum as he strides toward the faculty corridor, each step deliberate, measured. Professional. The way a professor should walk after dismissing a disruptive student. Not the way a man walks when his blood runs hot and his mind circles back to the same filthy words like a tongue probing a sore tooth. His office door swings open w

CHAPTER 6 ~ SHATTERED MIRROR

ADRIAN'S POV The heavy oak door clicks shut, sealing out the noise of the world and plunging the entryway into a heavy, suffocating silence. Adrian stands there for a moment, his back pressed against the cool wood, letting the stillness wash over him. The day has been a marathon of droning lectures, endless faculty meetings that circled nowhere, and the exhausting mental gymnastics of trying to convince Williams. He drops his leather messenger bag onto the floor; the thud echoes in the empty hallway. He moves into the kitchen, the soles of his loafers scuffing softly against the hardwood. The shadows are lengthening, stretching across the countertops like grasping fingers. He doesn’t bother turning on the lights. He knows the layout of this space by heart—the distance to the fridge, the exact location of the crystal tumbler in the cabinet. He reaches for the bottle of gin, the glass cool and heavy in his palm, and pours a generous measure. The clear liquid splashes over the ice

CHAPTER 7 ~ LASH AND VELVET

RYDER'S POV The corridor stretches out before Ryder, a long, polished expanse of linoleum reflecting the fluorescent buzz from overhead. He walks with a loose, rhythmic gait, the kind of stride that comes from years of dominating the ice, his hockey-honed thighs rubbing together against the rough denim of his jeans. He finished his last subject only an hour ago, the adrenaline from the lecture still humming in his veins, but it’s the message waiting for him that really pumps the heat through his system. The class rep told him Professor Adrian wants to see him. A private meeting. Ryder smirks, catching his reflection in a darkened window as he passes. He looks fucking good, and he knows it. The tight black t-shirt he wears clings to his chest, outlining the solid slabs of muscle he earns every weekend at the gym. He knows how lecturers look at him. He sees the hunger in their eyes when he walks into a room, the way their gazes linger on his ass or the bulge in his crotch before th

CHAPTER 8 ~ CARNAL COLLISION

RYDER'S POV Professor Adrian stands behind his mahogany desk, the polished wood reflecting the harsh afternoon light. He lifts a hand, his fingers trembling slightly, and adjusts the wire-rimmed glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. The lenses magnify his eyes, eyes that are currently wide with a mixture of professional resolve and lingering anxiety. He clears his throat, the sound scraping against the quiet air, and fixes his gaze on Ryder standing opposite him. "Mr. Knight," Adrian begins, his voice dropping into that deep, resonant baritone that usually commands lecture halls but now feels thin in the confined space. "We need to discuss the incident that happen yesterday. The way you speak to me, the comments you make during lecture hours... it constitutes sexual harassment." He pauses, smoothing the front of his tweed jacket, trying to impose order on the situation. "I have every right to take this to the Dean. The way you look at me, the things you’ve said about my...

CHAPTER 9 ~ MAYA IS PREGNANT?

RYDER'S POV Adrian’s hands clamp onto Ryder’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle with bruising force, shoving hard enough to send a shockwave through Ryder’s chest. The momentum breaks the seal of their lips, the wet smack echoing loudly in the small office space. Before Ryder can catch his breath or process the sudden severance of contact, Adrian’s palm connects with Ryder’s cheek. The slap isn’t just a tap; it’s a backhanded strike that snaps Ryder’s head to the side, the impact ringing in his ears like a gunshot. The taste of copper floods his mouth, sharp and metallic. Adrian doesn’t stop there. He grips the front of Ryder’s jersey, twisting the fabric until it chokes him, and drags him toward the door. Ryder stumbles, his boots scuffing ineffectually against the carpet, trying to find purchase but failing against Adrian’s frantic, superior strength. They hit the doorframe, and Adrian flings the heavy wood open, manhandling Ryder into the hallway. "Get the fuck ou

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