"I won't tell your professor if that's what you're worried about," he said.
The tension in her shoulders eased.
"Thank you," Cassidy said. "It just sucks that I have to constantly be on my best behavior. I have to do twice as much work as everyone else and be twice as accurate, just to keep my place in a program that I've earned my way into. Meanwhile, Ian can run off in the middle of a research trip with a prostitute, and that's just fine."
Samson crossed his arms over his chest, trying to quell his anger. So this was about that little shit that Cassidy had shown up with. The one who reeked of jealousy and contempt. If he was the reason Cassidy was upset, then Samson would be more than happy to correct his behavior.
"Do you want me to find him and bring him back?" It would be easy enough. Even now, he could smell sour traces of the beta's spent lust in the wind.
"God, no," Cassidy said. "This might be my only chance to get away from him all weekend."
"Then what do you want?"
Samson didn't need to see Cassidy's face or hear her words to know the answer.
It was written all over her. In the way the smooth skin along the column of her neck heated and flushed. In the heady scent of desire pooling between her legs. In the way her knuckles went white from her tight grip on the wood rail in front of her.
She wanted him.
Cassidy was usually so guarded, so perfectly composed, that he'd never been able to completely see past her façade. Now, the whiskey had lowered her defenses, and Samson could see, smell, and feel inside her inner fortress for the first time.
And what Samson found there made him harder than ever.
This was more than just simple attraction. This was need. This was want. Hot, and primal, and urgent. This was a language that Samson understood perfectly.
He stepped away from the wall, stopping just inches behind her. The heat of her body called out to him, pulling him in, but he resisted the urge to press himself against her.
After all, he'd waited sixteen months for this moment. He was determined to stoke this fire until it roared.
"Tell me," he said again.
Goosebumps rose up along the column of her neck as she leaned back toward the sound of his voice.
"I want…" Her voice trailed off, far away and dreamy. The muscles in Samson's jaw flexed at the sultry sound.
A gust of biting winter wind whipped through the trees, stirring up dried leaves and reaching into their clothes. Cassidy shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, the icy blast shocking her out of her reverie. She stood straighter and ran an awkward hand over her flame-red bun, smoothing the loose strands.
"I want you to answer some questions," she said quickly. She was all business suddenly, digging in her bag, intently avoiding his gaze. "I'm sorry. That was rude. What I mean is that I was hoping you wouldn't mind answering some questions."
She pulled out a notebook, the same worn black one she always carried. She flipped to the back, then held it in front of her chest like a shield.
Which was exactly what that damn notebook was. Cassidy was frantically trying to raise her defenses again. But something had changed, and the wall she put up wasn't as strong as before.
"You want to ask me more interview questions?" Samson echoed, stepping a little closer.
"Only if you don't mind."
"Have I ever told you no?"
"Thank you," Cassidy said nervously, her gaze everywhere but on him. "No one was able to give me much time tonight."
"I promise not to stop until you're satisfied."
Even in the moonlight, Samson could make out the blush that flooded her cheeks.
"You're trying to embarrass me," she protested, as if naming her emotions would somehow lessen them.
Samson shook his head. "No."
He was trying to seduce her. To turn up the flame underneath all that simmering desire until her pot boiled over. Until she couldn't hold back anymore, and told him what she really wanted.
"Good," she said firmly—though not firmly enough to cover the slight tremor in her voice. "Because it wouldn't work. I have too much riding on this research trip to be held back by shame."
"Then ask me your questions, Dr. Carr."
"Don't you want to go inside?" She looked longingly at the door. "It might be more comfortable."
"No."
Cassidy's eyes widened, and her breath caught as she looked down at her notes, as if hoping to find an antidote there to her own desire.
"All right," she said, after taking a second to compose herself. "Then perhaps you'd like to take a few steps back, to give yourself some space."
"Nope." Samson shook his head. "I'm right where I want to be."
That wasn't entirely true—where he really wanted to be was buried between her thighs. Being this close to her heat and sweet, desire-filled scent, he doubted there was a force on Earth that could make him move away.
"Or maybe—"
"Ask me your questions, Cassidy."
Her eyes flashed up, then darted away. She took a breath. Another. Then…
"How do you make love to a beta?"
Samson's blood surged. All it had taken were eight little words to make his cock harder than it had ever been before.
"Is that what you asked Zeke and Troy?"
The thought of Cassidy asking that question of another alpha made Samson angry beyond reason. Jealousy and possessiveness raged through his bloodstream. Suddenly, Samson wanted to find his alpha brothers and tear into them.
"No." She shook her head as her gaze nervously flicked back and forth across the page. "I didn't have the chance to get to these questions with them."
She was lying. Samson could hear it in her voice. Not about asking the questions, but about why she hadn't.
Samson had a feeling there had
