Do I Have A Thing With My Professor?
Lilac Stone once wanted nothing more than being unnoticed. But everything changed the moment she met Adrian Cole, the new lecturer.
He's distant and completely off-limits. She's quiet, guarded, and unprepared for the way he sees right through her.
What begins as harmless conversations after class quickly turns into something far more dangerous-something neither of them can stop no matter how hard they try.
But then they're living in a world where rules are meant to be followed, and their connection is one line they were never supposed to cross.
Whispers turn to accusations. Secrets are exposed. Their futures are at risk.
They are merely two opposites-a lecturer and a student, a male and a female-but they are bound to destroy each other as long as they are huddled in one space at the same time.
What then can they choose: forfeit their futures and embrace their happiness, or let the latter slip while keeping their careers intact?
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Chapter 4
He sets his rough hand on my cheek and caresses it with his thumb moments before our lips make contact.
The feeling is electrifying, thrilling, and an absolute pleasure.
I can't believe this is my very first kiss, and I can't wrap my head around just how good it feels.
However, I fear I may be clumsy and awkward. I don't even know how to go about it even though Cole leads me well.
His other hand creeps to my waist, and some weird mix of sensations spread from my stomach to between my legs, where all of a sudden feels too wet.
"Something's wrong with me," I mutter against Cole's lips. "I'm wetting my panties. Is that alright?"
The man huffs a smile. I feel his breath fan my face in a good way. "Nothing is wrong with you, Lilac," he says soothingly while leaning back, still caressing my cheek. "What you are experiencing is the start of pleasure." Cole suddenly frowns. "Hold on a sec. You haven't been intimate before?"
I shake my head nervously.
"Then you have a long way to go, Lilac."
I lean into the man, wrapping both hands around his shoulders. "Show me. Please."
I watch Cole's Adam's apple bobble as he gulps hard, and I smile inwardly. I love the fact that he's having a good hard time because of me.
However, he takes me unawares when he suddenly pecks my lips. "You've got to go home now. It's late." He crosses my hands off his shoulders but doesn't let them go as he stands up. "Come on." He pulls me to my feet. "I'll put you in a cab."
I groan out my displeasure. Although I just want to finish what we started right here and now, I'm still happy about how this night turned out.
Henceforth, I know things are about to change.
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Getting reading for school never felt so refreshing. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I scrutinize my looks.
I've always been proud of my ebony black hair and my brown eyes, but I've not been more grateful than I am that I'm quite thick and really curvy.
My insecurities were my baby face and my overly pale skin. But, seeing as the person I like likes me back, I can now look at the mirror and smile at my reflection.
"Hi, Mom!" I greet as I walk past the kitchen.
I don't bother looking at her, but Mom seems to have laid one glance at me and judged.
"What are you putting on, Lily? That is too slutty for school."
Too slutty?
A fitted long-sleeved top tucked into a mini skirt, fashioned with a pair of lace leggings and a pair of knee-length boots, is slutty?
I look down at myself. Well, maybe it is, but who cares? I've been wearing extra large outfits since last year, after all.
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"We need to submit our literature projects, and the course prefect is absent," one student presents a problem. I do know why it's a problem.
"Due to his grumpy habit, I fear Dr. Cole would strangle me if I should step into his office. I rather forfeit the project than go there," another whines.
"Who will go then?"
There are murmurs for a while before...
"Wait! Everyone! Dr. Cole eases up with Lilac. She surely is his best student and may as well be the course prefect. Let her submit the assignments."
"Perfect idea."
"Wait... what?" I try to protest, but, in truth, I was waiting to be elected.
"Do not worry, Lilac. If you don't return, we'll write the perfect eulogy for you. It's literature, remember?"
I smile. Ironic.
If there's anybody whom a eulogy should be written for, it's Cole. He's the one who's about to be murdered by my looks, anyways.
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I knock once on his office door.
"Come in," I hear him say, and my heart skips a beat.
I let myself in and dump the pile of project works in a corner of his desk, setting my hands on the table and leaning on it.
"There's the homework. Your students are afraid to meet you."
Cole regards me for a while. His eyes shift to my breasts, where the material is hiding my cleavages, but the outline is still pretty visible. Then he looks down at a script he's marking.
"Why so?"
"They say you're the reaper. You dismember heads and hearts, they say."
"Then why aren't you scared?" Cole pauses his marking and starts stabbing his pen on the paper, seeming lost in thoughts.
"Cos I want to see the reaper in you come out," I respond.
"Fuck it!" Cole grunts and shifts the scripts aside. Then he pushes his swivel chair backwards so that there is enough space between him and the desk. "Come here." He taps his thigh.
Bloody hell! He wants me to sit on his lap.
"I have weight, you know," I say in feigned hesitation.
Without saying anything, Cole reaches for my wrist and pulls me into his natural seat.
The connection between us starts to spark flames again. Goosebumps spread through my skin as butterflies dance in my belly.
He holds my jaw between his thumb and index finger and brings my head down so that we can kiss while I slip my hands around his neck.
I love the feeling of his other hand tracing my curves. And I love the feeling of pulsating down there as juices leak without my control.
Most of all, I love whatever it is I'm seated on. It's hard and long and jerks from time to time.
I don't need to ask Cole what it is so as not to sound too dumb. I need to use my common sense on this one. After all, what else would be on his crotch aside from his manhood?
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8.0
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7.2
Genevieve woke up choking on her own blood, a fatal gash tearing through her abdomen. The memories of a primitive world crashed into her mind—she had transmigrated into the body of a sadistic beastman Mistress.
But the five powerful beastmen "mates" standing over her hadn't come to her rescue. They had come to watch their tormentor die.
"We should just leave her," Kameron sneered coldly. "The scavengers will clean up the mess."
Gilberto spat in disgust, while Angelo, a silver-scaled snake-man, trembled in pure terror at the sight of her. The original owner had whipped them, humiliated them, and driven another mate to suicide. Now, they were letting her bleed out in the mud, their eyes filled with undisguised loathing and satisfaction.
She was a top-tier apocalyptic survival expert, yet here she was, paying the ultimate price for a stranger's monstrous sins. It was a bitter, unacceptable irony to die helplessly in the dirt while her supposed protectors waited for her corpse to rot.
She refused to accept this ending.
Forcing a chaotic surge of energy through their shared Biological Link, she brought all five men to their knees in agonizing pain, commanding them to carry her back. In the dark cave, without a single scream, she plunged her bare hands into a fire and brutally cauterized her own gaping wound with searing ash. As the beastmen stared in horrified awe at the unbreakable soul now occupying the tyrant's body, Genevieve wiped the blood from her face and began to rewrite her fate.
7.6
Dumped by her fiancé just days before their wedding, only to watch him marry someone else-what would you do? Cry yourself to sleep, or dress to kill for revenge?
That was Elaina's reality. She's no Cinderella, yet she lost a shoe while recklessly crashing her ex's wedding. Her revenge plan went up in flames, but fate had other ideas, throwing her into the path of Alister-a man who is handsome, charismatic, and dangerous... and ironically, the person closest to her ex-fiancé.
Amidst heartbreak and vendettas, Alister paints her world in new colors, turning Elaina into a modern-day Cinderella. But will this story end in "happily ever after," or is Alister merely leading her into a much more dangerous game?
8.3
EDEN
8.3
Elianila, an AI Architect, is part of an elite team tasked with designing a global system meant to prevent threats, manage disasters, and distribute resources to vulnerable regions. After five years of tireless work with her colleagues, she uncovers disturbing anomalies, code-named, X-variables, that flag individuals according to criteria she never programmed.
As Elianila digs deeper to understand what the X-variables measure and where their origin, she finds herself in direct conflict with the authorities. Soon, the System marks her and her daughter as threats - targets to be eliminated.
With a small band of colleagues and dissidents, Elianila goes on the run, hiding in places beyond the Systems reach. As they evade surveillance, they race against time to warn others, expose the truth, and fight back against the omnipresent authority of the System.
9.0
My ex-husband returned after a three-year bet, ready to reclaim me and the son he thought was his. He had no idea that I'd secretly aborted his child, divorced him, and remarried the day he left. His world was about to come crashing down.
His delusion turned deadly when he and his manipulative best friend, Haylee, kidnapped my son, Leo.
I found them at his family's mansion, with Leo suffocating from a severe allergic reaction to a dog they were forcing him to play with. Elliot physically restrained me, scolding me for overreacting while Haylee giggled as my son turned blue.
At the hospital, as Leo fought for his life, Elliot grabbed my arm, demanding to know who the man standing beside me was. He was convinced this was all a game to make him jealous.
That's when my real husband, billionaire Gregory Morton, stepped forward.
"Since when is this child yours, Elliot?"
9.0
The biopsy report slid across the cold metal desk, stamped with a brutal death sentence: advanced gastric cancer. Aretha had exactly ninety days left to live.
It was her twenty-sixth birthday, but her phone only rang with a furious call from her husband, Anders.
"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you made this family look like today? Post a public apology to Kelli right now."
He had completely forgotten her birthday, only caring that she skipped her adopted sister's yacht party.
When Aretha dragged her failing body back to the family estate, her biological mother slapped her across the face just for looking pale and embarrassing them in front of guests.
Seeing Aretha wasn't submitting to the usual abuse, Kelli deliberately threw herself down the stairs, playing the innocent, depressed victim.
Anders rushed in and shoved Aretha brutally against the wall to protect Kelli, while her biological father delivered his ultimate threat.
"I am freezing your trust fund. Get on your knees and apologize to Kelli right now, or you won't see another dime."
A massive, suffocating sense of absurdity washed over Aretha. She had spent six years lowering her head and begging for their approval, only to be treated like a disposable placeholder. Why should she spend her final days enduring this agonizing torture for people who didn't even care if she breathed?
Aretha wiped the blood from her chin and laughed. She publicly severed all ties with her family, whipped the signed divorce papers directly at Anders's face, and walked out into the freezing storm—ready to fight for her own life.