Samson (The Boundarylands Omegaverse Book 3)

by Callie Rhodes

  And their brief interactions certainly didn't cause a visible reaction in him.

  It wasn't surprising. Alphas were meant to be with omegas. That was the natural order of things. Sure, they could have flings with betas, sate a few carnal needs. Friday nights in Evander's Bar were proof of that. But that was it. There could never be anything more.

  "I'll be fine," Cassidy said lightly. "Mia personally invited me, so technically, I'm a guest under Ty's protection."

  Cassidy glanced up and saw that Samson's mouth was still flattened in a hard line. Obviously, her words didn't reassure him as much as she'd hoped, though she had no idea why.

  Though Boundaryland laws were considered cruel and violent by most betas, they were sacred and unbreakable among alphas. Being under the bar owner's protection all but guaranteed Cassidy safety.

  "Who's the man you drove in with?" Samson asked, changing the subject.

  A royal pain in her ass.

  "Ian Wilkerson," she said. "He's another of Dr. Cheung's students. This is his first visit to the Pacific Northwest Boundarylands. He has only been to the Southern Atlantic before."

  Samson stared assessingly at Ian across the room. "You don't like him," he said after a moment.

  That was the understatement of the year. Cassidy took a deep breath and focused on calming her pulse. She'd forgotten how easily an alpha's sharp senses detected and interpreted every emotional cue.

  "He's my peer," she said. "We don't have to like each other. We just need to work together."

  Samson ignored her diplomatic words.

  "You don't trust him," he went on, his expression hardening into a terrifying glower. He leaned in a little closer, seemingly taking up all the air around her. "Why are you afraid of him? Has he hurt you?"

  "What? No." Without thinking, Cassidy reached out and wrapped her hand around Samson's wrist. She could feel the tension radiating out from him—the coiled strength of his muscles, the surge of his hot blood, the fury pulsing through his body. It was almost overwhelming. "Ian's just a garden-variety asshole. He thinks he's better than me, and he likes to make my life difficult."

  Just like every other misogynistic bastard Cassidy had ever met.

  Samson kept his eyes on Ian for another long moment before letting his gaze slowly drift down to his wrist…to the spot where Cassidy's hand still rested.

  The moment she realized what she was doing, Cassidy snatched her hand away and bent her head toward the floor.

  "Please accept my apology. I wasn't thinking," she said, her voice trembling. "I hope you enjoy your night, Mr. Turner."

  Before she could make another mistake—or worse, spark a brawl—Cassidy turned and headed toward the bar.

  Chapter Two

  "You made it!"

  Cassidy brightened at the joyful, feminine voice that greeted her from behind the bar. She turned to see Mia's smiling face beaming at her, and the tension faded from her body.

  "I finally got permission," she confirmed. "Though I had to fight like hell for it."

  Mia wiped her hands on a towel behind the rail and waddled over to meet Cassidy at the side entrance to the bar.

  "Oh my God," Cassidy said, grinning at the sight of her friend's swollen belly. "You're getting so big."

  Mia pretended to be offended. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to say that to a pregnant lady?"

  "I thought those were the only ladies you could say it to," Cassidy joked, before giving the omega a long—and decidedly unprofessional—hug.

  As soon as they pulled apart, Mia inclined her head in Ian's direction. "I see they sent you with a chaperone."

  Cassidy shrugged. "The faculty is still certain that a woman can't be trusted on her own up here."

  "So they sent that guy?" Mia raised her brows skeptically.

  Cassidy turned to see what Ian was up to. Not surprisingly, he was leaning against a pool table, talking up one of the working girls while simultaneously looking down the neckline of her dress.

  And she was the one who needed supervision?

  "You're not the only one who doesn't like him," Cassidy said. "Samson didn't think much of him either."

  Mia laughed. "So, that's why the floor rumbled."

  Cassidy took a seat at the barstool at the end. "He seems unusually aggressive tonight. It must be the increased testosterone caused by the promise of so many willing sexual partners."

  Mia lifted a single brow, smirking. "Is that what you think?"

  "It's the most likely explanation."

  Cassidy pulled her notepad out of her bag, the same one she'd been bringing to the Boundarylands since day one. All of her field notes were in that battered notebook, every bit of work she'd ever done, and it was almost full. She had to flip nearly all the way to the back to find an empty page.

  "I asked around last week, and Zeke and Troy said they were willing to sit down with you and answer a couple of questions."

  Cassidy scribbled the names down. She was familiar with one, but not the other.

  "Only a couple?"

  Mia shrugged. "It's the best I could do. Like you said, priorities shift on Friday nights. Everyone has something better to do."

  "Of course."

  That was okay. Cassidy would take what she could get, and paring down her interview sheet to only the essential questions shouldn't be too difficult. Maybe when she ran into Samson again, she could ask him to fill in a few of the blanks.

  "I did get one of Nicky's girls to say she'd talk to you, as long as you kept it short," Mia said.

  Cassidy nodded. It made sense—the woman was on the clock. "I don't know how many clients she usually sees per night, but please tell her I'm happy to compensate her for half an hour of her time."

  Mia let out a huge laugh. "Oh, sweetie. I'd almost forgotten how it is with beta men. These girls won't be seeing multiple clients tonight. Each one will be with one alpha until nearly two o'clock in the morning."

  Cassidy glanced down at her watch. It was barely nine o'clock.

  "That's five hours from now."

  Her amazement must have sounded in her voice because Mia laughed again.

  "Oh, I'm well aware."

  Well, that was…interesting.

  Cassidy was about to ask how much time of that time would be spent in active intercourse when the front door opened and a cold blast of air whipped inside. She swiveled on her stool to see a group of women entering the bar—fifteen girls in all.

  One for just about every alpha in the bar—Mia's mate Ty excepted, of course.

  Mia flagged one of the women over.

  "I'm Hannah," the woman introduced herself, shaking Cassidy's hand. She was pretty with bright eyes, red lips, and a full, curvy body.

  "Can I get you a drink before we get started?" Cassidy offered.

  While Mia poured Hannah a vodka tonic, Cassidy explained a little about herself and her research.

  "Your answers will be very useful in helping us better understand intimate interactions between alphas and betas," she told her.

  "You mean how they screw?"

  "That's one part of it," Cassidy said evenly as Mia placed the drink in front of her "Why don't we go over to a table, where we'll have a little privacy."

  Hannah waved her hand, dismissing the idea. "There's no point in that. Alphas can hear everything. You should have met me over the boundary if you wanted privacy."

  Fair enough.

  Cassidy pulled two hundred-dollar bills from her purse and the interview questions out of her notebook.

  "Ready to get started?"

  * * *

  By ten o'clock, Cassidy's mind was spinning.

  She felt as though she'd been through an interview speed round. In a little over an hour, she'd sat down with three subjects—two alphas and one beta prostitute. She'd fired off questions about intimate relations and furiously scribbled down answers.

  But just as she feared, each of her interviewees had wanted to cut the discussion short. They had other, fa
r more pleasurable—or lucrative—things to get to.

  Not that Cassidy had anything to complain about. Even though the discussions had been brief, they'd been incredibly useful. She'd filled three pages with notes and made arrangements to speak more in-depth with each of the subjects in the future.

  As research trips went, this one was a stunning win.

  And it wasn't over yet. Cassidy still had plenty of time—almost four hours—to observe the rest of the social interactions that would take place that evening.

  "Are you having a productive night?" a deep voice asked from behind the bar.

  Cassidy glanced up to see Mia's mate Ty addressing her, and immediately tilted her gaze back down again. Even though she knew the alpha and would characterize her relationship with him as friendly, it still wasn't wise to meet an alpha's gaze for more than a second or two.

  "Yes, definitely," she said. "Thank you again for the invitation. I'm in your debt."

  "No debt," Ty said simply. "Your friendship makes Mia happy. That's all the payment I need."

  Cassidy couldn't help but smile. That was just the kind of sentiment she wished that the rest of the beta world could hear—evidence of the real and mutually supportive love between an alpha and his omega.

  "Do you want a drink?" Ty asked.

  Want? Yes.

  Would she have one? Hell no.

  "Unfortunately, I shouldn't while I'm working," she said.

  "If you're worried about your babysitter," Ty said, "he's already left with one of the girls."

  Cassidy's head snapped up. "What?"

  "About ten minutes ago, while you were busy talking to Zeke. I saw him hand over a wad of cash to Nicky and slip out the side door with a girl."

  That little shit.

  Cassidy had been on her best behavior from the moment she'd set foot in Evander's tonight. She knew Ian was scrutinizing everything she did and said, on the lookout for any little slip-up. The bastard was hungry for anything he could use to discredit Cassidy and her work when they got back to the university. But while she had been drinking soda water in an attempt to keep her head clear and her reputation pristine, Ian was literally fucking around with their subjects.

  Hypocrite.

  She scribbled the last note so hard the tip of her pencil broke.

  "Want to rethink that drink?" Ty asked, grinning.

  Yes, she did.

  "I guess a shot of something wouldn't kill me."

  "Anything in particular?"

  "Whatever's best for keeping homicidal thoughts at bay."

  A second later, Ty thumped a bottle down on the bar in front of her. "I've always found this to do the trick."

  A shiver ran up her spine at his serious tone. Sometimes it was easy to forget that alphas didn't joke around.

  Cassidy took the brimming shot glass he pushed in front of her, the contents sloshing over the side.

  She did her best not to shudder as she swallowed the liquor down, but dear God, it burned. Like holy fire—harsh and searing and full of fury. Cassidy had never tasted anything so strong.

  "Thank you." She managed to choke the words out as she slid the empty glass back to Ty. She reached into her purse to grab a few bills, but Ty stopped her with a wave of his hand.

  "It's on the house."

  "I appreciate that," Cassidy said, knowing that she'd only insult him if she protested. Instead, she looked around the bar. "Have you seen Samson?"

  She figured now was a good a time as any to see if he could help her out with some of those unanswered interview questions.

  "He left a while ago."

  Cassidy's stomach dropped.

  She didn't ask if Samson had left in the company of one of the girls too. She was certain Ty would be able to detect the disappointment in her voice if he had. Disappointment she knew she had no right to feel.

  Samson was a man. An alpha. And it was Friday night.

  He'd come in search of company. Not to see her.

  Cassidy wondered who he'd left with. Maybe Hannah, the woman she'd interviewed. The one who said that being with an alpha for hours on end was exciting but exhausting.

  Cassidy flipped back a page in her notebook and looked down at the exact words the woman had spoken.

  They ride you so hard that you end up sleeping the whole next day just to recover.

  Was that what Samson was doing to Hannah now?

  Cassidy didn't want to think about it, but the image refused to leave her mind. Samson's naked body glistening with exertion under the light of the full moon, hammering into Hannah's voluptuous body. His hands cupping her full breasts. Her moans filling the air.

  Shit.

  Why the hell was she allowing her mind to take her down this path? Cassidy knew it would only make her feel worse, but she didn't know how to stop.

  Well, that wasn't exactly true.

  She did know one way.

  Cassidy pushed the empty glass in front of her forward an inch.

  "Any chance I could get another taste of that magic potion?"

  Ty splashed another measure into the glass without hesitation.

  "Be careful," he said. "It's more potent than it seems."

  Cassidy couldn't imagine how that was possible. She downed the second drink just as quickly, and it burned just as hot.

  But as she already knew, alphas didn't lie.

  Within a minute, her head was starting to spin. All of her angry impulses toward that prick Ian were gone… though, unfortunately, all her thoughts of Samson remained.

  If anything, her imagination was serving up even more vivid and detailed scenarios, while her body responded by losing all coordination. Cassidy had to make several attempts before she was able to successfully stuff her notebook into her bag and pull the strap up over her shoulder. She stumbled as she got up from the barstool.

  "I think I'm going to go outside and get some air," she mumbled, clutching the bar to steady herself before heading to the side door.

  "Told you," Ty called after her.

  If Cassidy didn't know better, she would have sworn that his words were laced with humor.

  Chapter Three

  The night was clear and cold enough that Samson could see his breath. He kept a jacket draped across the bench seat of his truck, but he wasn't about to go get it. Somehow the assault of freezing air against his skin felt right.

  He'd been hoping that the sting would be enough to distract him.

  He should have known better.

  Nothing was enough to distract him from her.

  Samson was leaning against the side of the bar when the service door swung open. His mood was too foul for company. He only hoped that whoever was stumbling out that door was smart enough to sense it.

  But the figure was small—much too small to be one of his alpha brothers. Samson stiffened when he realized who it was. He didn't need to see her face. He'd memorized her scent long ago.

  Sixteen months ago—the first time Cassidy Carr had ever set foot in Evander's Bar.

  Samson had never paid much attention to her boss, the beta sociologist who came around from time to time to conduct research. None of them did. Just like every other beta who came to the neutral territory of the Boundarylands, the man was welcome as long as he remained respectful, stayed out of the way, and knew when to leave.

  But then one day, this unremarkable beta showed up with another researcher, one of his students.

  A woman.

  A tall, willowy woman whose red hair was piled up in a thick bun at the back of her head, a few strands escaping to brush against her creamy, pale neck. Who smelled of paper and tea leaves. Who Samson couldn't take his eyes off of.

  Just like her professor, Cassidy Carr was careful to conduct herself appropriately at all times, her behavior and speech both submissive and respectful.

  Unlike the professor, however, she went out of her way to make personal connections with the alphas she encountered. She remembered little details from her interviews. Like the
time she asked about everyone's favorite childhood snack from the beta world and then brought them on her next visit.

  Even her questions were different from the professor's. Less focused on generalities and more on intimate details. The first time they'd talked, she had asked him why he came to Evander's most nights…if there was anything he missed about the beta world…

  If he ever felt lonely.

  Samson wasn't blind. He saw the attraction in her eyes on the rare occasion she allowed her gaze to meet his. He caught the shift in her scent when she spoke to him, the increased heat, the simmering desire.

  This woman wanted him, but she never let it show outwardly. Every interaction, every conversation, remained controlled and reserved.

  Not tonight, though.

  Tonight, Cassidy had almost fallen when she stumbled out onto the bar's patio. She didn't even notice Samson standing behind her as she caught herself, wrapping her hands around the thick wood rail for balance. She let her head fall back and drew in a deep breath.

  "I am a goddamn idiot," she mumbled, appearing to address the bright, full face of the moon that was shining down on her.

  The sharp scent of grain alcohol hung in her breath.

  "We both know that's not true, Dr. Carr," Samson found himself saying.

  Cassidy started at the sound of his voice, almost tripping over her feet as she turned around. Samson reached out and steadied her before she could fall.

  Just like every other time he'd touched her, he hoped for the blinding surge of deep, primal desire that would signal a change in her nature from beta to omega.

  And just like every time before, he was disappointed.

  Once Cassidy was steady on her feet, Samson stepped back into his shadowy corner.

  "You scared me," she said. "I didn't think anyone was out here."

  Samson cocked his head, bemused. "Where did you think I'd gone?"

  "You know…" She twirled her finger in a lazy circle, and Samson knew it wasn't the cold that turned her cheeks bright red. "Wherever it is you guys go on Friday nights with Nicky's girls."