Her Mate Is The Playboy Professor

"Bella, wake up!" I heard someone tap my shoulder and call my name. Groggily, I opened my eyes, and there sat my roommate, Sandra, beside my bed.

"Bella, you've got to get out of this bed before we head to our morning classes," said Sandra as she rose from the bed. I let out a loud yawn and stretched as the soft morning light streamed through the half-opened curtains, casting a gentle, golden hue across the room.

Let me introduce myself. I'm Bella Curry, a university student and a writer. At twenty-three years old, I'm a she-wolf, and at the moment, I'm single.

You might be wondering why I'm single. It's not because I lack beauty or appeal. The reason is simple: I'm not interested in any guy. Yes, you heard that right. I'm not currently interested in any guy because I'm infatuated with the fictional male characters in my novels. You see, I'm a writer, and most of my work falls into the smut category. The male characters in my novels are quite alluring, and that's the main reason I'm still single. It may sound peculiar, but fantasizing about my own characters is more than enough for me *winks*.

Another reason I'm single is that I haven't found my mate yet. I've been hoping to meet my mate since I turned eighteen, but here I am at twenty-three, and that hope has dwindled. Maybe I'm just not destined to have a mate, or perhaps the moon goddess didn't create one for me. Nevertheless, I find happiness in my life as a writer.

Being a writer is undoubtedly demanding and strenuous, but it's one of the five reasons why I'm still here. I know you must be curious about the other four reasons, but that's a story for another day.

"Bella, will you please get inside the bathroom and take your bath before our morning classes?" Sandra yelled from outside the room, and I let out a soft sigh.

Honestly, I was still feeling drowsy. I hadn't gotten enough sleep because I was up writing all night. This was a regular occurrence for me, as I often found solace in the written word late into the night. I was in the midst of crafting a new smut short story about a high school teacher and his student. The idea struck me in the middle of the night, and I couldn't resist the urge to start writing it. That's the reason why I couldn't get enough sleep.

The door swung open suddenly, and Sandra entered the room. She frowned deeply upon seeing me still lying on my bed.

"Bella, what's wrong with you?" She asked, her arms crossed in anger. "Do you want us to be late for class this morning?"

To be honest, I didn't want to go to the morning class, especially since it was history. I had a strong dislike for the history Professor who made the subject difficult, not just for me, but for everyone else.

"Sandra, I don't want to go to history class this morning," I said wearily, and Sandra gave me a questioning look.

"Why don't you want to go to history class?" She asked as she sat on the bedside.

"You already know why," I replied.

"Because of the history Professor?" She questioned.

"Yep," I replied.

"Well, I think you'll change your mind after I tell you the good news," she said, and I became curious.

"What good news?" I asked, full of curiosity.

"The history Professor has resigned, and we have a new history Professor now," she said, and my eyes widened in surprise.

"Seriously?"

"Yep," she nodded. "And you know the best part? The new Professor is incredibly handsome!"

Sandra exclaimed with a big smile, but her smile vanished when she saw that I wasn't excited about the "best part."

"What's wrong, Bella?" Sandra asked. "You don't seem excited."

"I'm excited, but not because the new history Professor is handsome. I'm excited because we have a new Professor," I replied.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes and got up. "Just get ready so we can leave for class. I can't wait to meet the new Professor."

I scoffed as Sandra walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

"So, you're not interested in meeting this new Professor that Sandra said is handsome?" a feminine voice echoed in my head, and I recognized it as Amelia, my wolf.

"Seriously, Amelia, I'm not interested in meeting this new handsome Professor," I replied as I slowly sat upright in my messy bed. Sheets of paper filled with my writing and ideas were scattered across my small desk. My creative mind had been working tirelessly, chasing inspiration that often visited me during the quiet hours of the night.

"But what if the Professor is even more handsome than you can imagine?" Amelia asked as I dragged myself out of bed, my limbs heavy with exhaustion.

"We haven't seen the Professor yet, so let's not jump to conclusions," I replied as I wore my recommended eyeglasses. "And even if the new Professor is as handsome as Sandra claims, I'm sure the male characters in my novels are far more attractive and captivating."

"But what if he surpasses all expectations?" Amelia persisted, and I groaned.

"Just leave me alone, Amelia," I replied before mentally blocking her out.

To be honest, I still felt like sleeping and not going for history class this morning, but the news about having a new Professor made me change my mind. I was planning to complete my short stories this morning, but I guess I'd be doing that after I return from classes. My world revolved around academia and my passion for writing, and I couldn't afford to miss any more classes, no matter how tempting the allure of my stories was.

In a half-awake daze, I began the mundane morning ritual of undressing myself to prepare for my much-needed shower. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of my pajamas, my mind still partially ensnared in the plotlines and characters that danced within my imagination.

As I dragged myself into the bathroom, I couldn't help but think about the characters in my latest smut story. In this particular tale, the chemistry between the high school teacher and his student was sizzling, and I couldn't wait to delve deeper into their forbidden romance. It might sound odd to some, but creating those tantalizing scenarios and complex characters was my passion.

I walked inside the bathroom and brushed my teeth before stepping under the shower. And as I turned on the faucet, the warm water cascading over my tired body marked the beginning of another day in my life; the life of a mateless she-wolf who dared to chase her dreams while navigating the rigors of academia.

With the soothing cascade of water revitalizing my senses, I gradually left behind the drowsiness of sleep. My mind cleared, allowing me to focus on the tasks ahead. As the steam enveloped me in the shower, I contemplated the day's agenda. My classes were an essential part of my life, and I couldn't afford to let my dedication to writing interfere with my academic pursuits.

After a refreshing shower and the scent of lavender body wash still lingering in the air, I emerged from the bathroom, now fully dressed in my university attire. I had chosen a comfortable yet stylish outfit that was conducive to the long hours of lectures and the impromptu writing breaks I often took in the university library.

Sandra, my diligent and organized roommate, was a stark contrast to my artistic and imaginative nature. She had already prepared a quick breakfast, knowing that I was often too preoccupied with my writing to eat a proper meal in the morning. The aroma of scrambled eggs and toast wafted through the air, inviting me to partake in the morning sustenance that I often overlooked.

With my stomach satisfied and my backpack filled with notebooks and a laptop, I was ready to face the day's academic challenges.

Sandra and I strolled together to the university campus. I always found the bustling academic atmosphere captivating. Students hustling to and from classes, the lively chatter in the hallways, and the fresh scent of newly mowed grass in the courtyard reminded me of the opportunities higher education offered.

Sandra and I walked side by side until we reached our class. Let me give you a brief overview of my university. It's called Briarwood University, known as one of the finest in the world. This university had both humans and us werewolves as students. However, the humans had no inkling about our true identities, and we sincerely hoped they never discovered the secret.

You might be wondering why werewolves attended the same university as humans. Did we not have our own pack and university? Well, our pack, the Blood Moon pack, was attacked decades ago, long before I was born. The pack members had to flee to the human world. Back then, my parents and Sandra's parents were just kids, so our grandparents made the difficult choice to move to New York City, along with some other werewolves. My parents grew up in New York and later gave birth to me, and ever since, we've lived among humans without them ever uncovering our true nature. I hope this clears things up.

Bella and I entered the history lecture hall, where discussions about the new history Professor filled the air. The lecture hall buzzed with its usual commotion as students settled into their seats, flipping through textbooks and chatting with friends. The arrival of a new Professor had everyone's attention, and the excitement of a fresh academic encounter was palpable.

Sandra and I took our seats next to each other, joining in on the conversations about the new Professor. However, I quickly grew bored of hearing others describe him as handsome, sexy, and all sorts of irrelevant things that didn't interest me. I decided to take out my favorite black laptop from my bag and resumed working on my smut story.

Suddenly, the door at the front of the room swung open, and the collective noise in the hall hushed to an immediate silence. It was as if someone had hit the mute button in the room. All eyes turned to the newcomer, their gazes fixed on the striking figure that had just entered.

I, like my classmates, was caught off guard, but her reaction was unlike any other. My eyes widened with shock as I beheld the Professor. A rush of emotions surged through me, and my heart raced. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

The new Professor was a vision of beauty and handsomeness that surpassed any expectation. Tall and confident, he exuded an air of charisma that was simply magnetic. His chiseled features were accentuated by a perfectly groomed beard, and his piercing eyes seemed to hold the secrets of centuries. I can't believe I'm even describing him right now.

The Professor first glanced around the room like he was searching for someone, then his gaze landed on me. My internal world was in turmoil. I was a writer, and my vivid imagination often painted elaborate scenes in my mind, but nothing could have prepared me for this moment. I felt as though my very essence was stirring, as if a dormant part of me awakened with a fierce intensity. My instincts, primal and visceral, whispered something she couldn't quite grasp.

I continued to stare at him, almost dumbfounded. It was as if time had frozen for me, and the rest of the world had blurred into insignificance. My wolf howled and stirred within me, a primal recognition that defied all reason. I felt a strong connection that I had been yearning to feel since I clocked eighteen. I felt the mate bond, and I found it hard to believe that this new, handsome Professor is my mate.

And then, as if to deepen the inexplicable connection that I felt, the new Professor's gaze met mine. His eyes, those enigmatic, magnetic green eyes, locked onto mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. And then, to my shock, he winked at me.

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt a rush of heat coursing through my veins. The class may have been silent before, but in that moment, it felt as though the universe itself had held its breath. I struggled to regain my composure, but my heart raced, and my thoughts swirled in a tempest of confusion.

"Oh my goddess! I can't believe this!!!!" My wolf, Amelia, yelled excitedly in my head. "We've finally found our mate, Bella. We've found him!!!!"

I could tell Amelia was really happy, so was I. And I was still shocked by the fact that my mate is the new Professor.

As he walked to the front of the room with a casual grace, he was a spectacle to behold. I was captivated by his presence, and an unspoken enchantment seemed to hang in the air.

The Professor, who was now standing at the lectern, smiled warmly at the class. "Good morning, everyone," he began, his voice a deep and soothing resonance that seemed to resonate with the very walls of the lecture hall. "I am Blake Hemsworth, your new history Professor."

As the lecture began, I couldn't focus on anything but the enigmatic presence of Blake Hemsworth, my new professor. The idea that he is my mate was a surreal notion, and the inexplicable connection between us left me in a state of bewildered fascination.

As Blake continued his lecture, my fascination with him only deepened. His charisma and the commanding presence he held over the room were undeniable. The subject of history, which had often seemed mundane, suddenly became captivating under his guidance. I couldn't tear my gaze away from him. He was more than just handsome; he was a magnetic force.

The lecture continued, with Blake imparting his knowledge with an enthusiasm that was infectious. His words seemed to hang in the air, drawing the students in like a moth to a flame. I was lost in his words, entranced by the way he made history come alive.

Amid the lecture, I was so engrossed in watching him that I didn't notice when Blake directed a question at me. My mind was still swimming in a sea of fascination, and the words didn't register. It wasn't until my friend, Sandra, who sat beside me, discreetly tapped my arm that I was jolted back to reality.

Sandra leaned in and whispered, "Bella, he's asking you a question."

My eyes widened with shock. I turned my gaze to Blake, who was indeed looking in my direction, awaiting my response. My heart raced, and a flush of embarrassment crept over me. This was an opportunity to impress my new, handsome Professor, but I had been so absorbed in his presence that I had missed his question entirely. What do I do?