Tempted (Two Marks 1)

I’d taken biology when I was a student. I didn’t remember much of it, but I was damn sure it wasn’t nearly as interesting as Caitlyn’s class.

She launched into an extremely coherent lecture on genetics, with slides and entertaining tidbits to help students remember important facts that would be on the quiz she was giving Friday. Caitlyn was truly in her element—comfortable at the lectern, enthusiastic yet authoritative with her material. I got a hard-on just listening to her. She was in charge here and that was arousing, especially when we’d turn her into the submissive once we got her back between us.

The best part, though, was when she peppered her lecture with stories of her own research interest—wolves.

Landry leaned forward in his chair.

“Recovery of the grey wolf—who can tell me the Latin name?”

“Canis Lupus!” someone shouted out.

“—Canis Lupus, very good Mr. Ingram—in North America has depended on several factors. One, minimizing human-caused mortality. Two, assisting wolves in migrating to suitable habitat presently unoccupied by wolves. What has artificially transplanting wolves to new areas done to the genetic variation of the wolves, though? This is why we’re examining the genetic variation of naturally colonized wolves versus transplanted wolves, to determine the effects on reintroduction projects.”

Caitlyn went back to her material, then wrapped things up by asking for questions.

“Anything unclear? You understand what you need to study for the quiz?” She scanned the lecture hall, then froze. “Oh.” She caught sight of us. She was speaking into a headset so she could be heard easily in the large lecture hall, so her little expression of surprise was picked up by everyone.

Landry lifted his hand in a small wave.

I just grinned.

“Um…” She stared for a moment as her cheeks went pink. “Ah, that’s it for today, everyone. Quiz Friday, ten percent of your grade.”

The students collected their things and began to leave.

She removed her headset and jogged up the terraced aisle to reach us, weaving around departing students. If I’d had any doubt about how happy she’d be to see us, it was erased.

“Auditing my class?” Her smile was so brilliant, it hurt my chest. And it was aimed at us.

“Yep.” Landry settled a hand on her hip, as if to show every horny college boy in the lecture hall that she belonged to him—to us. The thing about scent-matches was that we didn’t get jealous of each other. It was why I hadn’t wanted to claim her on my own that night I met her at the bar. It hadn’t felt complete without Landry. We were programmed to mate in pairs—some quirk of evolution to preserve the survival of our time during more difficult times, I supposed.

Maybe Caitlyn could figure it out.

That thought landed in my head and took hold.

Yes. That was exactly what we needed to do. Redirect Caitlyn’s passion for wolf science to the study of shifter genes. The Two Marks pack’s very particular genes. Only Cord McCaffrey, the shifter doctor, had done any study on why we were different, but she was an expert, had a doctorate on the subject.

Maybe it would be as fulfilling to her as the research she’d have to abandon. It would ease the blow of giving up on the research that meant so much to her.

Because that’s what we needed her to do—abandon her research. Stop tagging wolves, studying the data. Sharing it with the world.

Let sleeping wolves lie.

We didn’t want real numbers of any kind of wolf—canis lupus or our variety—getting out into the world. We couldn’t let that happen.

“We wanted to know more about what you do here,” Landry said as the last of the students left.

“And we missed you,” I added, reaching up to stroke my knuckles down her cheek. I couldn’t help myself. And neither could my wolf.

Caitlyn’s nipples protruded with arousal, visible even through her bra and blouse.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Her laugh was breathy. Sexy. “How did you even find me?”

“I’m pretty good with a computer,” I admitted. I didn’t need to tell her I hacked into the college’s records last week when I was researching her to get her schedule. “You were great up there. I wish I’d had professors like you when I went here.”

“Yeah, but how would you concentrate on the subject material?” Landry’s hand started roaming up and down Caitlyn’s side now that we were alone.

Caitlyn’s smile was knowing, like she already understood she had us both wrapped around her little finger. My wolf loved that.

“So how much do you teach? I thought you were a researcher?” Landry asked, glancing around the empty room.

“Usually just one class per semester. I am primarily a researcher, with funding for my job provided by a grant, like I said. But the teaching is supplemental income, which is what I need right now. Do you guys want to see what I’m doing with the trackers you helped me place?”