Page 5 of The Omega Project

I roll my eyes as I knock, and at Langston’s summons, push through the door. It’s a typical campus office with large windows looking out over the quad, wooden furniture bought more for longevity than style, packed bookcases with a few mementos on display, and a pair of parched potted plants. I’ve been here a dozen times before, but I can’t tell if anything has changed, since the room has never made much of an impression on me. Which is to be expected, since Professor Fall has the kind of presence that gives me instant tunnel vision.

“Ms. Nash. What a delight to find you in my doorway.”

As I step further into the room, I try to limit my gaze to his face, but it’s an impossible endeavour. Langston Fall is a god on campus, and for good reason. His career success aside, he’s a dominant alpha with an edgy appeal in a world of soft academic bodies. Big and broad with muscular forearms and a full beard, there’s a hint of wildness in his eyes that always calls to me. Without fail, when I’d turn up to one of his mentoring sessions,my heart would go into hyperdrive, and I was sure he could smell my arousal, even though I only have a faint beta scent.

As to his welcome, it inspires mixed feelings. On the one hand, he looks genuinely happy to see me. But on the other hand, he called me Ms. Nash. And I thought we were way past this kind of formality, given the way he’d left me drenched in his pheromones the last time we were together.

“Is it?” I ask, ignoring the visitor chair he nods towards. “Why didn’t you answer any of my emails or texts?”

So much for playing it cool, but the rejection feels painfully fresh now I’m standing in front of him.

A shadow passes over his expressive features. “I’m sorry, but I told you I was going to be out of the loop for a while.”

“For three whole months? I understand that you couldn’t mentor me, but I thought…”

My voice trails off and I bite my lip. Where is that sassy, daring girl who just got off with her boyfriend in the library bathroom? Like always, Langston’s mere presence makes me feel like the ground is shifting under my feet.

“As I said in my text, I very much want to pick up where we left off,” he says, eyeing me from across his desk. Langston isn’t just an alpha, he’s aloungingalpha. One of those big guys who lets his body mass spread out over all available surfaces, like he’s staking a claim on the furniture. Right now, his feet are kicked up on the edge of his desk, and he’s lying back in his chair, his arms up behind his head, and his fingers laced at his nape. In the bee world, he’d definitely be a queen.

But as our gazes lock, he drops his feet to the floor and splays his hands out on the white blotter. I can’t help but stare at them, since the way they felt around my waist on that ballroom dance floor is still etched on my brain. Wide, tanned, and far too rough-edged for an academic. And when he cupped my cheeksduring our kiss, I swear I felt supernovas going off under my skin. “Tell me, Ms. Nash. How’s the thesis coming along?”

The question hits me like a bucket of cold water.Of coursehe’s talking about continuing our professional relationship. I might be obsessing over a half-hour interlude that happened three months ago, but he’s all business.

“I have a new mentor,” I say through stiff lips. “He’s great. Very knowledgeable. And really… available.”

God, did my voice have to crack right as I attempted a carefree shrug?

But Langston isn’t smiling. In fact, he’s pushing to his feet and stalking towards me, his thick brows lowered over his eyes. They’re a striking shade of Paul Newman blue and getting them to twinkle at me used to be the highlight of my day.

“Well, that’s nice for him, but I’m back now,” he says in a tone that makes the hair prickle on my nape. “He can shove off back to the hive, or wherever the hell he came from.”

He stops only a foot away and I’m back to clutching the edge of the desk as his scent swirls around me. To my beta nose, most alphas smell like musk or meat, but Langston reminds me of the sweetest nectar. Maybe I’m just projecting, but ambrosia was considered the food of the gods for a reason.

But as much as I want to fill my lungs with his scent, I force myself to tip my head back and give him a cool look. “The ocean, not the hive. He’s a marine biologist. Professor Downey.”

Langston looks like I’ve slapped him with a limp fish. “That puff of empty air?” His blue eyes narrow and his beautiful lip curls in the thickness of his beard. “The guy’s a hack, Emily. He spends more time surfing than researching, and his last paper was so lacking in insight, even the fish and chips refused to be wrapped in it.”

“What?” The laughter that bursts out of me is an appalled squeak. “You can’t say that!”

“Why not? Academics rip their students apart every day. It’s good for us to have the tables turned now and then.” He steps closer and gives me a lazy smile through his golden scruff. “Or desks, if you want to try that out on me sometime.”

I narrow my eyes at the lazy invitation I see in his gaze. “Professor Downey’s been really helpful, actually. He has all sorts of great advice, and he even took me out on his boat a few weekends ago…”

Langston lifts his hand and plasters it across my mouth. I gasp into his palm, but he just cocks a brow and nudges me back against the desk, his big body crowding mine. “You’re gonna want to stop right there, Emily.”

I blink as his fingers twitch against my lips. “I might not have stayed in touch, but I had plenty of time tothinkwhile I was away.” He presses closer, his hips nudging mine. “And do you know what sprang to mind every time I let it wander? My pretty little bee mentee, and how close I came to fucking her in the Hilton ballroom.”

I gasp into his hand, heat washing over me in a heady wave. I fantasised about that exact thing too many times to count, but he must see the doubt in my eyes, because his hand slowly loosens its grip, drifting down until his thumb is pressing against my bottom lip. “I wanted to, more than anything. But a friend needed me, and I had to give his recovery my entire focus. I didn’t think it was fair to start something with you when I was distracted.”

He grimaces, like he’s unhappy with his explanation, butmyentire focus is on the way the pad of his thumb feels against the tip of my tongue. I’m not sure if he’s stroking me or I’m licking him, and I’ll later try to convince myself it was… well, a slip of the tongue. But the truth is, I’m dying to taste every inch of Professor Fall. And it’s worth the smug heat that fills his eyes, because it’s like licking sex-infused sunshine.

“You’remymentee, Emily,” he growls, gripping my chin hard enough to send a vibrant ache through my body. “And I plan to make that very clear to Dickhead Downey, along with every other man who thinks you’re free for the claiming.”

“I’m dating Derek! And we just had sex in the library!” I don’t know why I spew my private business into the charged air between us, except that I’m in complete sensory overload. Langston’s flavour is on my tongue, his scent short-circuiting my brain, he’s touching me, and growling at me, and talking aboutclaiming… and all I can wonder is:where the hell is the nearest Hilton ballroom?

Derek. Derek. Derek.

That’swho I have to cling to now, not some unobtainable fantasy about my professor.

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