Emily
I grin at the way they scramble to follow me, but the wind goes out of my sails when we reach the Anthropology building and find a line of students at Lang’s office door. Soren is still a little wary about being around so many strangers, but when Creed suggests we head home, I decide to wait. There’s a row of chairs along the wall, and I slip into one while his students shuffle closer to the inner sanctum, their voices pitched low as they discuss everything from his clothing choices to his love life. Some of it’s amusing, but a few of the more brazen students have my teeth on edge by the time Lang opens the door and peers out at me. His double-take would be amusing if I wasn’t feeling so possessive.
“You should have told me you were out here, sweetheart,” he says, ushering me into his office. “I would’ve told those last few to come back another time.”
“And get my eyes scratched out?” I stalk towards him, twirling a curl in an exaggerated fashion. When I reach his desk I turn and pop a hip, gazing up at him with sultry eyes. “Oh, Professor Fall. Could you please go over your key points on mating habits with me again? I’m especially interested in the bit about how big strong alphas choose their mates…”
Lang swoops on me before I can flutter my lashes, his mouth fierce as it claims mine. “Why lecture when you can demonstrate?”
My insides melt on cue, but I wiggle free, slipping around his desk to lower myself into his seat. It smells like him – all sugar and musk – and I lick my lips as I pat my lap. “Take a seat, Professor Fall. I have some questions for my mentor.”
He studies me for a moment, then moves around to perch on the desk right in front of me, his booted foot hooked around the leg of my chair to pull me closer. It puts me in tantalising proximity to the growing bulge in his jeans, but I tip my head back, focusing on his face. “What do you know about switches and soulmates?” The hesitation I’m watching for is there, and I huff out a breath. “I heard you and Derek talking on the beach. And then you send the author of the Soulmate Phenomenon my way, so are you really surprised I’m asking?”
His lips twist in a wry smile. “No. Your observation skills have always been top-notch.”
“Then give me your insights. I told you I thought compatibility had something to do with switching, but soulmates? How does your scientific mind explain that?”
“I’m not sure it can, but my alpha likes it.”
“Your alpha? Are we talking about Finn here?”
His lips twitch, but I see that flash of hesitation in his eyes again, like he’s not sure how much he should say. “Yes and no. Finn’s a firm believer in soulmates, but I’m referring to the part of me that works off instinct, not reason.”
I’m pretty sure I know what he’s getting at, since I’ve felt a similar primal force inside me ever since I switched. I’ve decided that it’s another part of the biological system in charge of our most basic responses, also known as the six Fs: fight, flight, feeding, fear, freezing up, and fornication. “You mean your lizard brain?”
He chuckles and shrugs at the same time. “Sure. It might not have a long Latin name, but it’s just as real as the spark I feel in my chest now we’re bonded. I don’t know if that’s my soul’s energy or a simple chemical reaction, but I believe we’re a lot more than just compatible, sweetheart. I think we were destined to meet, mate, and make a home together.”
My heart thuds so loudly, I’m surprised it doesn’t knock me out of my chair.
“Are we talking about fated mates?” I’ve heard the term used in werewolf folklore, but never in a million years would I have applied it to myself. “Seriously?”
He takes my hand, peeling my fingers open so he can press a kiss to my palm. It’s a sweetly romantic gesture that’s matched by the adoration in his soft blue eyes. “What is fate except the meaning of life we find in each other?”
I blink at him. “What ancient destiny cult did you pull that line from?”
He turns my hand over and brushes my knuckles with his lips, which curve up into a full-blown smile. “That’s just me speaking from my soul, sweetheart.”
“Hmm.” I’m not sure if that’s true – he’s an anthropological expert, after all – but my toes are tingling too much to argue with him. “Okay. So we were meant to find each other. Then why did you run away when we first kissed?”
The soft affection fades from his face and is replaced by lashings of guilt. “Because I’m a dumb arse.”
I can’t help but snort. “Is that your official diagnosis?”
“I’m thinking about putting it on my business cards.” He sighs and runs his finger over the bite scar on my wrist. Instead of flinching away, like I usually do, it just reminds me of how right his mating mark feels on my throat. “I just wanted you to have a choice, which is ironic, I know. But it was just happening so quickly, and you didn’t have all the facts…”
He’s right. If they told me we were fated mates before my heat, I would have probably run away, too. Lang and I have debated pre-determinism, entangled systems, and dark matter in the past – the subtext of which is just dawning on me – but there’s a big difference between scientific theory and the plot of a raunchy romance novel.
He touches my chin, turning my face up to his so I can see the resolve gleaming in his eyes. “If you can forgive me for the biggest lapse of judgement in my life, I promise I’ll never leave like that again.”
Instead of answering, I reach up and pull him down into the chair, changing positions so I’m sitting sideways in his lap. It’s not quite straddling him, but I cherish the closeness, and the omega living in my lizard brain seems to like it, too. “But how does fate work in a pack?” I ask when we’re settled, and his arms are firmly around me. “We’re all different people, right? We can’t all be destined for each other, can we?”
“Why not? Our bonding bites link us, don’t they? And maybe you’re the piece that makes us fit in the best possible way.”
I hum as I consider that. “Like we’re honeycomb.” When he cocks a brow, I take a stab at a theory. “Bees secrete wax from their abdomens to produce round, tubular cells. When those cells get forced together, they flatten out into hexagons because that’s the most efficient arrangement. You can align them into any frame, like a shoebox, but if you press against the edges, they will fall into a hexagonal grid. It’s just the most stable and effective use of space.”
Lang rubs his beard on my temple and makes a thoughtful sound. “I’ve been thinking we’re puzzle pieces, but I guess the thermodynamic stability principle applies, too.”
I grin up at him. “I’m so glad fate hooked me up with the biggest nerd on campus.”
“Biggest, hottest nerd,” he clarifies, returning my smile, “and I could make the same claim.”
“So, what now?” I ask him, wiggling a little on his lap. “We go home and have a big claiming orgy?”
His eyes pop wide, and something long and hard starts to swell under my butt. “I’m not familiar with that ritual,” he says slowly. “Please explain, mentee.”
“Well, if all our mating bonds are inevitable…”
“Fate doesn’t rule out choice,” he says gently. “You still get to decide who, when, and how.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding. “Good. Because I told Creed and Soren to take care of business before I let either of them off their sex ban.” When his eyes widen even further, I wave a hand. “We chatted about it in the library.”
“And here I was thinking you went there to study,” he says silkily, his fingers drawing a slow circle on my bare knee.
“We did, but Creed had all the bathrooms mapped out in case we needed a break.” I give him my most innocent look. “Personally, I prefer the privacy of Professor Fall’s office.”
“You do?” His hand slides up my thigh and under the hem of my skirt. “So we can debate free will and random chance some more?”
I waggle my brows at him. “I was thinking more along the lines of letting our lizard brains out to play.”
His chuckle is smothered against my lips, his tongue dipping into my eager mouth. We make out until his heady flavor has me moaning and rubbing against him, my hands clutching the soft leather of his jacket. “You’re warm,” he says when we come up for air and presses his hand to my forehead. “Feeling okay?”
I nod, even though there’s a familiar itch growing under my skin. “Is it a heat spike, do you think?”
“Most likely, but I should check.” He lifts me off his lap and places me on the edge of his desk, a question in his eyes. “The door’s locked. Are you okay if I touch you?”
“God, yes,” I moan, opening my thighs as far as the denim skirt will allow. “Inspect away, Professor Fall.”
He gives me a predatory look as he slides a finger past the edge of my lace underwear and swirls it between my aching folds. When he pulls it out and sucks the smear of slick coating the tip, I bite my lip to hold in a low moan. “Heat sweet,” he confirms, a matching fire igniting in his eyes. “Want me to take you home to your nest, or should I take care of you right here on my desk?”
“I wasn’t kidding about liking your office,” I reply, dropping back and propping my booted heels on the arms of his chair. “Maybe I should leave my mark on your desk since I never got to roll around in your leather collection.”
“Well, that’s something we can fix.” He peels off his jacket and lies it across his blotter, hitching me up until I’m cushioned by the soft material. When he’s done, he stares down at me with hungry eyes, his erection pushing against the zipper of his jeans. “You look delicious, sweetheart. So open and ready for me.”
“Then don’t make me wait, Alpha,” I beg, reaching for his belt.
He strips it off with gratifying speed, then pauses to look down between my thighs. “You’re not too sore from your heat?”
“I’m perfect,” I pant, lifting my hips to squirm out of my skirt. “But take my tee off, okay? It’s my favourite band, and I don’t want to ruin it.”
He grunts, but he doesn’t hesitate to peel me out of my clothes until all I’m wearing is a silky red bra and my cherry-red boots. “What a gorgeous picture,” he mutters, tearing at his own shirt and bringing his naked chest into glorious view. His voice is lust-soaked gravel as he runs his hands down my thighs and grips the tops of my boots. “This is one work memory I want permanently etched on my brain.”
A quip rises to my lips, but the next moment he’s wrapping my legs around his waist and sinking into my needy core. I’m not as hazy as I was during my full heat, and as he slides deeper, the stretch fires up every nerve ending. It also makes my back arch, and Lang is there to capture my breasts in his hands, a growl echoing in his chest as he sucks my nipples through their veil of red lace. “My perfect mate. You’re taking me so well.”
The compliment sends a shudder through me, our mate bond singing like a windchime. “You feel so good, Lang. Don’t stop.”
“Never. Your sweet pussy is never getting rid of me now.”
I groan and push up off the desk, trying to take him even deeper. Every thrust is rattling the drawers, and the thought of one of his eager little students walking by and hearing us puts a smug smile on my face. Lang, of course, notices, and arches an amused brow at me. “You look like the cat who got the cream.”
“Just marking my territory,” I reply, lying back and rubbing myself on the soft leather of his jacket. It smells like Lang, with just a faint trace of my own perfume, and I rub harder. “I want our scent to leak into your walls, so no one ever forgets that the PILF is all mine.”
“My possessive bee mentee,” Lang hums, and I can taste his satisfaction on the air as he curls his hands around the globes of my arse. “I should carry you around campus like this…” He pushes forward with a grunt, and I open my thighs wider, fireworks starting to sizzle in my chest. “Walking around with you sitting on my hard knot like the perfect little mate.”
“Ah…” I’m not sure if it’s the image or the fact his knot is pushing inside me that tips me over the edge. But I come in a gush, his swollen base locking us together a moment before I feel the flood of his cum. It’s hot and thick, the mark of a powerful alpha, and it ignites a purr that has Lang staring down at me with adoration in his eyes. “How did I get so lucky?”
“The board of admissions,” I pant, then push myself up and wind my arms around his neck. It brings my tingling nipples in direct contact with the patch of hair on his chest, and I rub myself against him as he falls back into his chair. We’re both liberally coated in our combined fluids, and I rake my hands through his copper curls as he takes my mouth in a hungry kiss. I can’t help biting down a little, marking his bottom lip with my teeth, and he chuckles. “Greedy.”
“Insatiable,” I reply, squeezing his knot and smiling at another trickle of his cum. He’s trapped in the best way, and I hum as I cover his face in kisses. “And I’m the lucky one.”
He holds me tighter, and for a while we just sit and make out. His hands roam over my skin, like he can’t get enough of me, and I squirm as he throbs inside me. “Guess it’s just as well your office hours are over,” I finally quip. “How long do you think we might be stuck like this?”
“Long enough to give you this,” he replies and opening his desk drawer, pulls out a small square box. “Courting gifts usually come before bonding bites, but… I’ll do better at Christmas,” he promises, handing me the box.
I run a finger over the satin lid, those fireworks now a soft, warm glow in my chest. “I usually make beeswax candles for Christmas. Do you think Finn would be okay if I set up a little workstation somewhere in the packhouse?”
“It’s your home, Em. You can do whatever you want, and if you need supplies, I’ve organised a credit card in your name.”
“I don’t need much,” I protest, but my eyes go wide as I remove the lid and stare at the golden bee on the bed of velvet. “Wait. Is this… an origami bee?”
“You left it here the last time you stopped by, so I sent it to a jeweller friend who used it as the basis of the design.”
“Wow. Derek gave it to me.” I brush a finger over a golden wing and gulp past the tightness in my throat. “I didn’t know where to keep it because I was kind of between homes at the time…”
“Well, you’re not anymore.” He studies my stricken face with a flash of regret. “If it’s too much, you can leave it here as a paperweight…”
“No! I love it!” I place the gift carefully back in the box and throw my arms around his neck. Lang gives a relieved huff a second before he captures my lips and I realise it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him I loved him, too. Which is crazy, because it’s way too much, way too fast. We might be bonded, but I haven’t even said it to Derek yet…
But as he cradles me in his arms and I stare down at his perfect gift, something tells me those three little words are as inevitable as a thermodynamic hexagonal grid.