Stalked by my Professor Cover Reveal

Stalked by my Professor's cover is now on Amazon! (keep reading for a TEASER!) 

If you haven't preordered the second book in the Lessons in Cruelty series yet, now's your chance. This is a full price release, so that $2.99 price point is disappearing on release day…no time like the present to lock it in. 

Speaking of the launch, I have a tentative early-mid November release date for Stalked, but I will confirm that when I'm 100% sure. 

In the meantime, I'm giving away a few ARC copies of Stalked by my Professor, and entry couldn't be easier! 

BASTIAN

If anyone was around, they'd hear me coming up the creaky stairs. But no one pokes their head out to demand what I'm doing inside.

It seems Haven is truly alone.

Only two doors in the hallway are unlocked besides the bathroom. One is empty, the other isn't.

Haven is sprawled over the floor on her back like a homicide victim, face slack, sleep shirt hiked up one side all the way to her ribs. I'm on my knees beside her in an instant, heart hammering inside my chest as I press my fingers to her throat.

She's cold, but there's a faint thrum under my fingertips, and her eyelids flicker at my touch.

Not gone, but safe in some medicated fog.

Thank fuck.

I scan the room, spotting a bottle of pills on Haven's nightstand. I grab them, rattling the bottle. It's still pretty full. Doubtful that she took enough to overdose.

Which means she's fine, and I should leave.

I should fucking leave.

But I don’t have a choice, do I?

I slip one arm under her ribs and lift her against me, surprised by her weight. Haven’s heavier than she looks and ungainly in sleep, her head lolling against my shoulder, her legs tangling with mine as I stand.

A professor finding his student like this in her sorority room has only one reasonable course of action.

I should put her in bed, tuck her under the blanket, and walk away.

The hunger she just summoned inside me disagrees.

As does my cock.

It stiffens against my zipper the way it always does when she's close. Even wrecked and barely conscious, she sets me burning.

Especially now, like this.

No arguing, no sneering. No attempts to turn my games back on me. She just sinks into me with that slow, helpless surrender I’ve been chasing from her since she took my cock on Friday night.

I lower her to the mattress. My hands should let go, but they don’t. One lingers at her waist, another flat against her belly until I feel the soft rise and fall of her breathing.

Should be a comfort that I found her alive, and not blue-lipped and vomit-streaked.

But her condition only winds me tighter.

Leaves me fucking ravenous.

There’s no version of this that ends well for anyone.

But every time her belly rises under my palm, I get harder.

I picture myself leaving. Rising from her bed without waking her, closing the door behind me, pretending this never happened, that I was never here. Like I'm a respectable man, doing the respectable fucking thing.

But Haven Lee will never be respectable, and neither will I.

The darkness in me craves the darkness in her.

When I rise and go to the door, it's not to close it behind me.

It's to lock us inside.

Prey caged with predator.

Her…with me.

I stalk back to the bed like my namesake, sliding onto my knees on the mattress beside her still form.

"What is it about you, Miss Lee, that renders me incapable of doing the right thing?" I growl as I brush hair out of her face.