Biological Choice

By M.A. Freeman

Lorelei: Lorelei Sapelo is perfectly content with her life, thank you very much. She has a job she loves, owns her own house, and is fulfilled by being surrounded by books. Home has been what she has created for herself by herself. And, while she may feel a nagging sense of something missing, it doesn’t stop her from creating her idea of a perfect life.

Connor: Connor Dwyer is perfectly happy moving from place to place. Meeting new people, exploring various places, and being content with his own company. The concept of home has been for other people, for families, something he’s never had. And, while others might have that need, he hasn’t worried about stopping long enough to see if it’s something he lacks.

Two lonely hearts on a collision course that will change their lives in unexpected ways. Yet, in the shadows, there are those watching, interested in a bond that shouldn’t exist.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: May 21, 2021

Book preview

Chapter One

Connor

Connor Dwyer puttered around the kitchen, putting away his cast iron pots and pans, as considered what a gem Eaton was turning out to be. It was a sleepy little town in the foothills of the mountains and home to his new employer, Travers College. As a consummate nomad, he had to admit this was probably the best employment package he had ever received as a lowly adjunct professor.

He opened the refrigerator and frowned at the sparse contents. A trip to the grocery store was in order. In the meantime, maybe now would be a good time to explore his employer a bit more. Maybe grab dinner in the dining hall. With a glance at the clock, he saw it was getting close to the dinner hours.

The living room was still full of moving boxes he hadn’t gotten around to, but Connor ignored them. There would be enough time to unpack them. The important part -- the kitchen -- was done. He grabbed his cell phone, wallet, and keys out of the blown glass bowl by the door before heading out.

As he wandered down the path, he passed a few people. Students, if he had to guess. A few older people he assumed were other residents of the development. It was nice to see so many people out on a balmy afternoon. There was a sense of wellness among them Connor hadn’t even realized he was lacking in his life.

It didn’t take him long to clear the woods. He popped out between the three-story Victorian where alumni affairs were housed and the bland institutional brick building of administrative offices. He crossed the parking lot shared by both buildings until he stepped onto the well-maintained grass of the open quad.

Connor had to admit he was impressed. Not only had the school offered him a generous employment package, but the campus was quaint. He could understand why the graduation rate was so high. True students, the ones who wanted to learn, would flock to a place like this.

The grass gave way to a patio dotted with benches, tables, and planters. It led up to the glass entrance to the student union. He froze in place as a scent like no other filled his nose. The beast within rumbled through his chest. The sound surprised him. It was one he had learned to control at great cost, following his nightmarish puberty. It should have warned him to be cautious, but the scent was a siren song he couldn’t resist.

Molten rock. Freshly tilled earth. Night-blooming jasmine. His lungs could not get enough. Connor wandered around a healthy-looking planter and his eyebrows rose at the little nook behind it where a bench hid but also offered an unobstructed view of the quad. The scent was strongest there, where she obviously spent a lot of time. There was no doubt it was a she. Possession and desire were twin flames in his bloodstream.

He examined the small space, large enough for two if they were cuddled together. The fragrance was strongest around the planter. Something glinted in the setting sun, a flash of metal set in a groove on the lip of the planter.

Interesting, he thought, as he picked up the old-fashioned fountain pen. His girl was tactile. He rubbed his thumb over the metal tube, noting the places where the metal was worn away. She liked to feel things, hold them in her hands, but accepted vintage things. A traditionalist, he bet. One who read physical books for the tactile sensation.

Can I help you?

Connor wrapped his fingers around the fountain pen in a protective gesture he didn’t quite understand as he registered a curious female voice. On the other side of the planter, close to the entrance to the student union, was a pretty redhead.

Hello. No, I’m just here for dinner.

The redhead smiled. I’m Alane, president of the student council.

There was something. A sense tingling his instincts. An indication he needed to be wary, as if another predator were about. But there was only sweet-faced Alane, with her pleasant smile.

Nice to meet you, Alane, he said to better to put them on a student-teacher footing. He was not interested in some flirty coed when there was a woman out there who called to him. I’m Professor Dwyer, adjunct for the Ecology Department.

Her smile dimmed at his cool tone. Nice to meet you too, Professor. The dining hall is just inside. Enjoy your dinner.

After she had flounced off, he brought the pen to his nose and inhaled deeply. The odd blend of scents was deep into the metal. She used this pen often. Possibly it was even a favorite, which meant she would want it back. A rumble in his chest -- the beast agreed. Connor would return the pen to her. Get to know her. Stake a claim. Possess her.

Plan in place, Connor placed the pen in the breast pocket of his slouchy blazer. His stomach was growling. Dinner first. Then he couldn’t wait to start the hunt.

After all, wolves loved nothing better than to give chase.

* * *

Lorelei

Mondays were the worst. This one, even more so than usual. Several things were vying for the spot of frustration number one as Lorelei Sapelo reported to her job. First day of classes with demanding, entitled students. Her car had some ominous glowing light on the dash that probably meant an expensive trip to the mechanic. And her favorite fountain pen was missing. She had the vaguest hope it would turn up when she got a chance to turn her office upside down but wouldn’t count on it.

Hello, Ms. Sapelo.

Lorelei fought the urge to roll her eyes. His smarmy voice was not attractive at all. The upperclassmen were all the same, but this one was more persistent than most.

Mr. Jernigan, are you lost? The library is across the quad. Lorelei’s eyes narrowed slightly. She was in no mood for his stupid come-ons. It wasn’t like the archive was an extension of the library. They were housed in a completely different building. It was tucked out of the way from the main quad thoroughfare.

Just getting a jump-start on the optional reading list for my Lit class. Thought I’d pop in to see if you have any recommendations. He moved closer to the counter and leaned against it in what he probably thought was a coy, come-hither manner.

What a pack of lies. Lorelei fought the urge to roll her eyes as she moved farther behind the counter, so not only was it between them but the computer was as well. His pursuit was beginning to verge on harassment, something she would not tolerate. If this continued, she would have to lodge a formal complaint. This was the part of her job she hated -- playing babysitter, especially to the ones who did not appreciate the historical culture they held in their hands. Each book, each artifact was a valued piece to be appreciated and treated with respect.

The message chime on her computer interrupted her mental tirade. She had never been happier to hear that annoying tone in her life. It meant she had to work to do which meant Mr. Jernigan had to leave. She didn’t care what the message said. It was going to get her out of this tedious interaction.

She clicked on the alert and frowned as she quickly read the opened window. Well, Lorelei had wanted an excuse for denying Mr. Jernigan access to the archives. Here it was in nice Calibri font. The Kyoko Foundation, her employer, wished to conduct a full audit and inventory.

I’m sorry, Mr. Jernigan, but the archive is going to be unavailable this semester. Lorelei looked up. What an ugly expression. Someone didn’t like not getting their way. It seems the Kyoko Foundation will be conducting an audit and inventory. I’ll be sure to send out the communication email notifying the campus by the end of the day.

It was plain she wanted him gone. She wasn’t trying to hide it. It must have come across because he stormed out when he didn’t get what he wanted. Pleased, Lorelei returned to the message to read it in more depth. They were sending a representative to perform the audit while she completed a full inventory. Great. Either this rep was going to know nothing of the subjects collected here, or they were going to know too much to interfere with the process she had perfected over the years for acquisitions and loans.

Lorelei glanced back toward her office. She gazed specifically at the stacks of boxes she had been meaning to convert into the new digital system. So much dust. Her allergies were going to go berserk. She could only hope mice hadn’t gotten into those records. She did not like rodents.

Further information provided in the email let her know she had a week to complete the conversion. Doable, if she worked late with a minimum of interruptions. She had to have everything in order considering she was soon taking a short leave for medical reasons.

Excuse me.

Lorelei glanced up and was stunned. It was as if the entire world paused. A moment of revelation and acceptance and longing she didn’t even know she was capable of flashed through her. A moment that could be summed up in a single word: mine. All mine, from his pelt of black, grey, white hair like the coat of a wolf to his sun-kissed skin from time outside. Icing on the cake was his lean, hard body encased in a slouchy jacket, button-down shirt, and tailored jeans. All of it, topped off by a pair of ice-blue eyes watching her with the same possessive fervor.

What a crazy thought. It snapped her out of whatever trance she had fallen into. You couldn’t own another human being. Maybe her friends were right -- she needed a break. Although it would have to wait until after this audit.

Yes? May I help you? Her mind finished the rest of what she wanted to say. Help you take off your dapper jacket? Unbutton your crisp white shirt? Pull those jeans -- Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Lorelei blinked a few times and forced her brain off the X-rated track it was on. Jesus, what was wrong with her? He was a fine-looking man who ticked all her boxes, at least for now, but here she was, quivering like a schoolgirl.

He approached the information desk with long strides, while the energy between them seemed to spike the closer he got to her. Never in her life had she felt anything like it. Judging from the slight flush across those high cheekbones and the rapidly dilating pupils of his eyes, he felt it too.

I’m Connor Dwyer, the new adjunct. He reached into the inside breast pocket of his jacket. I believe this is yours. I found it on one of the stone planters in the quad.

Lorelei gaped at her favorite fountain pen held in his long-fingered hand. Oh, my God, thank you!

He handed it over. The brush of his skin was a shock. He was the one. Yet there was something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something about him that belied the usual male-female attraction. Something making the attraction much more intense. The urge to get close to him, to touch him, was almost overwhelming. Suspicion made her frown. She thought she might have snatched the pen out of his hand in a somewhat brusque manner.

Connor’s lips curved slightly, obviously not offended. You’re Lorelei Sapelo, correct? The archivist?

Lorelei gripped the pen tightly and shivered. He had kept her pen close in the days since he’d found it. She could tell. She could always tell. An invaluable skill which anything donated or bought for the archive was the genuine article. Yes, but the archive is restricted until a full audit and inventory have been completed. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.

That’s okay. I’ve come to ask you about the pen. Connor’s mouth widened into a full-blown grin. Now that we’ve met, I also want to ask you out.

* * *

Connor

The slightly stunned look on her gamine face was a bit of an ego killer. God, she was even more beautiful than he had imagined. With soft blonde hair bundled up into a messy bun, as if she needed it out of the way but didn’t care how it looked. Those suspicious dark blue eyes made him think of the lakes of the far north where snow was always present. But it was her body, a full, womanly body that called to him the most. She would have several pleasant handfuls, and it was all showcased nicely in a grey high-waisted pencil skirt with a tucked-in peach blouse.

Well? Connor hoped she was a runner. He loved a good chase.

Her expression darkened at his prompting. Mr. Dwyer, surely you don’t think I’d agree to a date from a man who wandered in here off the street? How do I know you’re who you say you are?

Clever minx. He saw the game she was playing. It was a chase. He felt his blood surge through his body at the prospect, while the beast inside gave a stretch. It was in tune with his thoughts to such a degree he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. The beast was usually a law unto itself. He’d have to think about this more later. Right now, he had more pressing issues.

Connor reached back into his pocket to pull out his wallet. Casually, he held it out to her. Feel free. My staff ID card is in there, as well as my driver’s license, credit cards, cash, as well as assorted other information you might be interested in.

Her eyes narrowed, but she still took his wallet out of his hand. He watched as she removed everything to lay out on the counter in full view. This was a matter of trust, a test both would pass. Connor was nothing if not honest. The fact that she didn’t hide what she was doing when going through his possessions indicated she was too.

Lorelei did have a hell of a poker face, though. He briefly wondered if she played the game before focusing on what she was doing. She counted out all his money, laid the three credit cards aside as if she didn’t really care. His identification cards got more scrutiny.

Well, are you satisfied I am who I say I am? Connor leaned forward. The fragrance from the pen, more potent because it was warmed by her body, stunned him. The molten rock was more heated metal while the fresh-tilled earth and jasmine were hothouse humid. It took all his self-control not to lean over the counter. To bury his nose in her neck, where he