Samson (The Boundarylands Omegaverse Book 3)

by Callie Rhodes

  Not even one of his closest alpha brothers.

  "You done?" Samson asked, his voice deadly calm.

  For a moment, it seemed as though Ty was going to continue arguing. Instead, he shook his head in disgust and stepped back.

  "Good," Samson said, "Now it's my turn."

  Pulling himself up to his full height, he took a step forward and looked down at his friend. Samson knew he was larger and stronger than any other alpha in their part of the Boundarylands, but he'd never been one to use those attributes to his advantage…until now.

  "You don't like what’s between me and her? Okay. You think it's unnatural? Fine," he continued. "As long as you keep your mouth shut and your bullshit opinions to yourself, I don't give a damn what you think. But if I hear you say one more disparaging word about Cassidy, I'll make sure it's the last sound you ever make. We clear?"

  Ty didn't answer, but his eyes narrowed, and the line of his mouth tightened.

  Samson took that to mean they were finished here. There was nothing more to be said.

  He started toward his car—toward Cassidy—refusing to look back.

  Samson knew his words had created a rift between him and his friend—one that might never be bridged. Just like he knew this wasn't the end.

  Far from it.

  There were a whole lot of alphas out there who would see the situation the same way Ty did. Those who believed it was fine for an alpha to spend his Friday nights fucking one of Nicky's girls to the point of exhaustion just as long as it didn't mean anything.

  For all Samson knew, he was probably alone in believing he had the right to want a beta woman who wanted him back. To take her to his home. To make her his.

  His brain told him he was asking for trouble.

  But every cell of his being told him to fight for her.

  "You're making a mistake," Ty called out as Samson threw open the driver's side door.

  "It's mine to make."

  * * *

  Cassidy didn't look at Samson when he climbed into the truck and slammed the door. She could tell how he was feeling without seeing his face. Frustration and anger poured off him in waves.

  She heard him jam his key in the ignition, but he didn't turn it. After a second of tense silence, she glanced over to see him staring straight ahead, his massive jaw set and his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

  Cassidy didn't need alpha-level hearing to catch what had passed between Samson and Ty. Their voices had been loud enough to hear through the car windows. She'd caught every word, and for a moment, she had been afraid the argument would come to blows.

  Cassidy didn't want to provoke Samson in this state, but she didn't want to be the biggest mistake of his life either. She refused to be the reason that the two friends were torn apart.

  If he wouldn't listen to Ty, maybe he would listen to her.

  Unlikely—but still, she had to try.

  "Ty is right," she said, her voice tentative. "You shouldn't call me your woman. Not even as a joke. You know nothing can happen between…an alpha and a beta."

  She had almost said between us. But no matter how much she wanted there to be an us, saying the words out loud felt like a dangerous indulgence.

  A growl started deep in Samson's throat and reverberated through the cab of the truck. "I'm getting really tired of everyone telling me what I know."

  Samson turned the key and revved the engine before heading out on the road. For the first time, Cassidy found herself leaving neutral territory and traveling deeper into the Boundarylands.

  She rested her forehead against the cool glass of the passenger window, watching the shadows of towering trees whipping past. Starlight dappled the patches of sky between the gaps in the canopy.

  There weren't many of her kind who had ever seen this place. Beta society had long ago ceded the natural world to the alphas. Instead, they lived in densely packed cities and only slightly more spread out suburbs. They believed in safety in numbers and trusted in the security of computers and steel.

  There was none of that out here. The most technologically advanced thing for miles was the truck she was riding in now, and it had to be at least fifteen years old.

  Maybe more, going by the dings and scuffs that peppered it inside and out.

  "Can I ask you a question?" Cassidy said when the silence had grown too heavy.

  "Again, have I ever told you no?"

  "Why are you taking me home?"

  Samson turned his head slightly and gave her a look that revealed the gold flecks glowing in his eyes. "I think you already know the answer to that."

  "Sex is one thing," Cassidy said, shaking her head. "If that's all you wanted, we could have found a spot off the road near Evander's like all the others. Allowing me on your property is...unprecedented."

  The lines around Samson’s eyes tightened as he focused on the road ahead. "While you're in the Boundarylands, I want you safe with me."

  God help her, that's all she wanted too.

  He made it sound so simple…but it wasn't.

  Still, a part of her couldn't help wondering what it would be like to be with Samson. Really be with him, and not just for one wild fuck that would ruin her for every beta guy who came afterward.

  Cassidy's mind gave in, and, for a second, she imagined what it would be like to be Samson's mate. His wife. To love and be loved by him. To stay with him always, protected…safe…cherished.

  No. Cassidy shook her head, her face burning in shame.

  Samson glanced over at her, his expression unreadable, and she turned her head and stared back out the window.

  She couldn't think that way. She couldn't allow herself to pretend for even a moment. She'd drive herself crazy, dreaming the impossible.

  Nature didn't work that way. Alpha law didn't work that way.

  Alphas mated with omegas, and betas mated with betas. That's how it had always been and how it would always be.

  And the sooner Cassidy accepted that fact, the better.

  Chapter Six

  The scent of Cassidy's want and shame filled the cab of Samson's truck. By the time he pulled off the road and onto the dirt path that led to his front door, the conflicting mix was overwhelming.

  She might be confused about what she was feeling…but Samson was not.

  Need, desire, want—not just for his touch or simple sexual pleasure, but for something deeper and more profound—that's what Cassidy ached for…and what she was afraid of.

  But as they traveled farther up the drive, a new emotion emerged, brighter and stronger than all the others.

  Curiosity.

  This was nothing new. The gorgeous beta woman sitting beside him was always humming with a need to know more. He'd noticed it in the air around her the first day she'd walked into the bar. It had been the only emotion that had been stronger than fear.

  Curiosity and a love of learning were as central to who Cassidy was as pride and independence were to Samson.

  The light in her eyes when she discovered something new was one of the things that drew him to her. The way her brow furrowed when she was trying to understand some new fact or resolve a puzzling inconsistency.

  He remembered the time he'd caught her chewing on her pencil, the point of her pink tongue darting out, as she read her notes. That sight alone had helped him get off for two full weeks after.

  By the time Samson hit the brakes in front of his house, her curiosity had pushed every other emotion to the side. She was practically buzzing with it.

  She didn't even wait for his permission to leave the truck. She'd jumped down to the ground and was halfway to the porch before realizing she'd left him behind.

  The second she realized what she'd done, she stopped dead in her tracks.

  "I'm sorry," she said, still stealing glances at his simple log cabin as if it were the most exciting thing she'd ever seen in her life. "I've always wanted to see this place, but I never dreamed I'd get the chance."

  Samson
shot her an amused look. "If I'd known you'd been so desperate to spend the night with me, I would have brought you here a lot sooner."

  Cassidy ducked her head, trying to hide a blush, but she shouldn't have bothered. Even if he hadn't been able to see the heat radiating off her cheeks, he would have picked up the shift in her scent.

  "I didn't mean it like that," she mumbled.

  Samson pushed away from his truck and stepped toward her. "Then tell me what you did mean."

  "No researcher has ever been inside an alpha's cabin," Cassidy said. "Hell, most betas who find themselves on alpha property don't survive to tell the story. That means no one in my field has ever documented the real-world environment that you live in every day."

  "You're the first," he said.

  A joyful smile spread across her face at his words. It was a look he'd seen before, and, just like always, his cock stirred to life at the beautiful sight.

  Samson led her up the wood steps of his porch and opened the door he'd carved from a single slab of redwood. There was no lock on his door—anyone stupid enough to come here uninvited would face the consequences long before they had a chance to make it inside.

  "This is my home," he said gruffly, standing aside for Cassidy to enter.

  She lifted her head the moment she crossed the threshold, greedily taking in the large main room.

  She seemed to forget he was there as she moved slowly through to the adjoining kitchen. She peered closely at the jars on the shelves, the copper pots hanging from iron hooks, the dovetail joinery of the pine cabinets. She bent to admire the tiled hearth, the caning of his rocker, the tooled leather carrier he used to bring in wood, taking care not to touch anything.

  When she saw the pen-and-ink sketches of birds in frames cut from burnished madrone wood, she could not contain herself. "These are amazing," she said. "Who's the artist?"

  "Me." Samson was surprised that wasn't obvious—like every alpha, he'd made or built nearly everything in his home. There were a few exceptions. A few luxuries like sinks and faucets had been purchased from beta merchants, and he'd enlisted the help of friends on a couple larger projects.

  "You draw?"

  Samson shrugged. "Yeah. I own a toothbrush, too."

  Cassidy looked stricken. "I didn't mean to imply—"

  "I know," he said with a half-smile, before tilting his head toward the rest of the cabin. "Keep exploring."

  It only took her a second to drift away again, growing bolder as she explored his bathroom—the hammered metal tub fed from a hot spring further up his land, the stone sink. He stayed out of her way, observing from a distance…until she opened the door to his bedroom and went inside.

  Samson followed her. Crossing his arms, he leaned his shoulder against the frame, filling the space. He watched her glance over his possessions. Her scent shifted as her gaze lingered on his bed, but it wasn't until she turned around to find him blocking her way that the desire simmering in her veins came to a raging boil.

  Still, just like every time before, he watched her try to tamp it down.

  "Thank you for allowing me into your home," she said formally.

  "You're welcome," he said, tilting his head slightly and letting his temple rest against the jamb. "Now, take off your clothes."

  * * *

  What?

  Cassidy's eyes widened. Her heart sped.

  She knew she'd heard Samson perfectly, but somehow her mind refused to accept the words. She opened her mouth to ask him to repeat what he'd said, but was too shocked to speak.

  Shocked…and burning with desire.

  And who could blame her? The way that Samson was looking at her right now, with the focused stare of a wild animal, it was amazing that she was managing to stay upright.

  He pushed away from the door when, after a few seconds, she still hadn't managed to move.

  "I said, take your clothes off." He didn't break eye contact as he slowly advanced. "Or do you want me to rip them off you?"

  Somehow she managed to shake her head. Doing the walk of shame over the boundary early in the morning was one thing. Doing it in shredded clothes was another.

  "Good choice," he said, the words rumbling deep in his chest.

  He reached past her, to the oil lamp on the bedside. Once the wick was lit, a soft golden glow filled the room.

  "That's better," he purred. "I want to be able to see every part of you."

  Goosebumps spread across Cassidy's arms as his words washed over her.

  She couldn't pretend that she didn't know this was going to happen. She'd known from the moment she'd slid into his truck. Shit, if she were honest, she'd known from the moment she'd given in and kissed him.

  And, even though this was exactly what she'd secretly dreamed about for months, she still found herself resisting.

  Old warnings, some that had been pressed into her head since childhood, protested vehemently inside her.

  She needed to be professional. Blameless. A good girl.

  Who was she kidding? A good girl would never have come to the Boundarylands in the first place, let alone an alpha's cabin. A good girl wouldn't have fought to get into a university program that didn't want her or presume to study a subject off-limits to women.

  But with sudden, overwhelming clarity, Cassidy realized that she never had been and never would be a good girl.

  She was a woman who wanted an alpha so badly she ached inside.

  If Ian hadn't interrupted them on the patio, she would have taken Samson inside her right then and there, clawing his skin and screaming for more.

  Here in this room, in this isolated house in the woods, there was no one to stop them. No reason to hold back.

  Cassidy lifted her hand and flicked open the top button on her blouse before pausing. She forced herself to push past the fog of desire that was clouding her head and speak.

  "What happens tomorrow?" she asked.

  "I'm not interested in tomorrow."

  Easy for him to say. "But—"

  "No buts." He took one last step toward her. The hard expanse of his chest pressed into hers with every breath. "The only thing that matters is now."

  He lifted his hand and wrapped it around the back of her neck. His fingers tangled in her hair, loosening the last of the pins she'd used to secure her bun. They pinged against the hardwood floor at her feet as they fell.

  A low growl rumbled deep in Samson's chest as he pulled her close. He touched her like he owned her, and—God help her—Cassidy wanted to be owned. To be exposed to him, offered to him, filled with him.

  Samson pulled his hands down an inch, forcing her chin up and exposing her neck.

  Cassidy sucked in a ragged breath as his lips pressed against her skin. She squirmed as he grazed her with his teeth. A rush of need rocketed through her body, and she let out a moan she couldn't stifle. Didn't want to stifle.

  But a second later, the sound changed to a cry of disappointment when Samson abruptly pulled away.

  She could barely breathe as she looked up at his hungry and predatory gaze.

  "Now," he commanded. "Take off your goddamned clothes."

  Chapter Seven

  At first, Cassidy's hands trembled as she fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, but her nerves didn't last long. There was something about the way Samson's eyes changed as he watched her slowly undress. The way they narrowed. Focused. Zeroed in on her and her alone.

  The intensity in his gaze made her feel like she was the only person in the world. The only thing that mattered.

  There was something thrilling about the realization.

  Thrilling…and powerful.

  Cassidy soaked in the sensation. She deliberately slowed her hands as she pulled off her bra. She reveled in the way he licked his lips when she exposed her breasts. Her excitement only grew as he growled possessively when she inched her pants down to the floor. His hands clenched into fists as her panties followed.

  But she should have known that an alpha wouldn't
let her keep this control over him for long.

  The second she stood naked before him, Cassidy suddenly found herself swung up in the air. She barely had time to wrap her arms around his neck before he laid her down on his bed.

  Need surged inside her at his show of strength. She tried to curl her legs around the wide breadth of his hips and draw him against her, but he refused to comply.

  Instead, he reached between her spread legs and kneaded her vulva with his huge hand.

  Cassidy cried out at the raw sensation of a single finger sliding inside her. Her body tightened around him. How the hell was she on the brink of orgasm with a single touch? A rush of hot, wet desire crashed through her.

  Too hot. Too wet.

  Cassidy bit her lip and closed her eyes, as shame roared through her. Above her, Samson suddenly stopped.

  She opened her eyes to see him staring down with a possessiveness she had no idea how to react to.

  "This," he said, holding his drenched fingers above her bare chest.

  "I—I can't help it, I—"

  "This is mine," he said. "Your slick is mine. You respond to me."

  Cassidy found herself nodding, the shame vanishing like a puddle in the hot sun replaced by an unfamiliar level of excitement.

  "Any man who has taken you before has not taken this," he went on.

  That was an understatement. Cassidy had never been this wet before. Not even close.

  Clasping both his hands around her wrists, he pinned her hands above her head and angled his hips between her legs.

  She found herself panting with need, desperate for his touch, even as he stayed maddeningly just out of reach. Eventually though, she managed to lift herself high enough to grind her pussy against him.

  Cassidy's eyes widening at the astonishing size of his rock-hard shaft through the denim of his jeans. Knowing all about the size differences in their natures, reading the statistics in books hadn't prepared her for the reality of feeling the outline of his cock sliding against her.

  It was so big. So long. So…perfect.