All Chapters of SEDUCING MY BIKER PROFESSOR : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Nirvana's POV By the same time the following day, Leo and I sat on the bench outside the humanities building. The afternoon sun beat down on the concrete and Leo could not sit still. He bounced his right leg up and down rapidly. He checked the screen of his phone every five seconds. He smoothed out his shirt at least ten times. I could almost smell his anxiety on him. "You need to calm down," I told him. "You are making me nervous. And I am not even the one doing anything." I laughed. He let out a heavy breath. "I cannot calm down. I am tired of waiting. I dressed up for him twice.”, he raised up two fingers. “I dropped the biggest hints a person can drop without just shouting it. He is either oblivious or he is waiting for me to make the first move." I nodded twice. "So you are going to make the move?" I asked, watching his face closely. "I am doing it right now," his response was firm. He stood up from the bench. "I am done playing these little games. I am going to ask h

Ronan's POV My knuckles throbbed with a dull ache as I gripped the handlebars of my motorcycle. The cold night wind whipped against my leather jacket, but it did nothing to ease the exhaustion in my bones. My shoulders were tight and my jaw ached from clenching it all night. All I wanted was to walk into my house, pour a glass of whiskey and shut my brain off. I killed the engine, parked the bike in the garage, and walked through the manor. It was all quiet so I expected the house to be empty. I stepped into the main hallway and stopped. A very distinct smell hit my nose. It was the sharp scent of my whiskey. I kept my bottles locked in the dining room cabinet. Nobody touched them. Not even Adrian. I soon found the reason though. A boy was sitting in one of my wooden chairs. He was slumped forward, leaning his elbows on the table. My crystal bottle of whiskey was sitting open right in front of him, half empty. He held a short glass in his right hand, swirling the amber liquid

Ronan's POV My office was a bit dark, smelling of stale smoke, coffee and old leather. Spread out in front of me were the thick ledgers from last week's weapons shipments and the cash flow reports from the bars we managed. I needed to review the numbers. I needed to verify the security logs after the dispute we handled last night. I picked up my black pen. I stared at the columns of handwritten digits. But I did not read a single fucking number. My brain was off balance. I lived my whole fucking life relying on logic, rigid discipline and necessary violence. I usually spent my mornings calculating risks, distributing cash and maintaining order among my men. Order was everything to me. I did not allow myself to get distracted by anything. I never lost focus. But this morning, my careful control was entirely gone. Every time I closed my eyes, I did not see the ledgers or the territory maps. I saw a pair of green eyes looking up at me from my dining table. I leaned back in m

Nirvana's POV I stood still in the exhibition hall, my hands damp with nervous sweat. This was the exact evening I had been anxiously waiting for all these long weeks. I had spent countless, grueling hours inside the studio, preparing for this important showcase. But right now, standing under the bright gallery lights, I just wanted to turn around, walk out the doors and go back to my bedroom. I kept glancing back over my shoulder at my display. My painting was positioned between two incredibly vibrant, colorful portraits done by confident senior students. My work felt small and inadequate there. Like it did not belong on the same wall. I stared at my dark canvas. I had painted a stark, shadowed courtyard at dusk. I had focused on the harsh, sharp angles of the cold stone benches and the oppressive darkness slowly creeping in from the very edges of the wooden frame. There were people painted into the background, but their features were blurred. I used thick strokes of dark grey

ADRIAN'S POV The crystal glass of scotch in my hand was sweating. The ice already melted. But I could not bring myself to set it down. I needed something to anchor my grip. If I let go of the glass, I knew exactly where my hands would end up. I hated every single second of this night. I hated the polite noise of this hall. I hated the tailored suit that felt like a straightjacket across my shoulders. But more than anything, I hated myself for agreeing to this brutal plan. When Ronan and I sat in my office and decided the only way to protect Nirvana was to freeze her out, it sounded completely logical. We were dangerous men running a motorcycle club, and the closer we kept her, the larger the target on her back became. Pushing her away was supposed to be the ultimate act of protection. I promised her brother I would maintain my distance. I was an arrogant fool to think I could actually do it. Ignoring her was tearing me apart from the inside. It took every ounce of my discipline