Bride of the Alpha(7)

“What’s Running and Claiming?” I demanded.

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.” He flashed me a taunting grin.

No, I wouldn’t. I’d be calling for a ride soon enough, I thought, feeling oddly disappointed. Whatever Claiming was, I had a feeling that I wouldn’t mind having Maxwell do it to me.

“So what are we doing now?” I asked, as we headed down the road in his truck.

“Well, normally, we’d go introduce you to everybody, then we’d have the ceremony in front of everybody, and then we’d commence with the next part of the marriage ritual. “

Which involves what, for heaven’s sake? I wanted to scream.

“Given how your uncle acted this morning, I’ve decided on a change of plan. We’re going to get married right away. That way your uncle won’t get the chance to change his mind,” Maxwell said, pulling up in front of a log cabin style building . A white gravel path led to the front door, and there were pretty flower beds lining the pathway.

Yeah, yeah, wouldn’t want the business deal to go south, I thought, as he rushed me inside.

“Aren’t there a bunch of people waiting for us?” I protested.

“Yep. I’m the Alpha, it’s my wedding. What I say, goes.”

“Won’t they think it’s kind of weird? I mean, I don’t want to be rude…” The thought of actually going through with this fake wedding suddenly filled me with panic. It would really have helped f Maxwell hadn’t been turned out to be Mr. Sex on Four Legs, and also if he hadn’t just saved my butt from a psycho.

“I’m a maverick. I do things my own way. They’ll just think I was overwhelmed with passion and wanted to rush the ceremony.” Again, he flashed me a wicked grin.

The pastor’s secretary looked puzzled as Max ushered me into the office. She stared at my dress as if I were a space alien, then looked questioningly at Max.

Great. I most definitely should have had the charm conjure up a pair of jeans and a t shirt instead of a fancy wedding dress.

“I’d like the pastor to perform the ceremony now,” Max said.

“Now?” she echoed.

“Right now,” he said firmly. “Right here.”

She got up and left the room, clearly bewildered. “You’re going to get married barefoot and shirtless?” I asked.

“Why, you don’t think it’s a good look for me?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed. “It’s not a terrible look,” I conceded. Understatement of the century.

The pastor, an older shifter with thick silver hair parted on the side, came rushing through the door into the office a minute later, adjusting his tie. “Maxwell! You don’t want to go to the reception hall first?” he asked, confusion wrinkling his face.

“We want to get married right now, Reverand,” Maxwell said firmly.

The pastor forced a smile. “Of course. Young love. Well, let’s get you hitched, then, shall we?”

The wedding ceremony itself was pretty anti-climactic. It literally lasted about two minutes.

The pastor went through what sounded like a typical Alpha ceremony to me – I’d been to a couple of Alpha weddings at home. Respect the Alpha’s authority, love and support your mate, never publicly challenge your mate because it undermines his authority, put the pack first at all times, honor, cherish, and so on. The Alpha had to promise he would love, honor, cherish, protect, never let anyone disrespect his bride, and so on, and so forth.

I was barely listening, mechanically uttering my “I do’s” at the right moment.

I was in a daze. Nothing was going how I’d planned it today.

“I now pronounce you Alpha and Bride,” the pastor said, jerking me out of my reverie.

Maxwell reached down, swept the illusory veil off my face, placed his hand behind my head, and kissed me passionately.

At the touch of his lips on mine, I felt a bolt of desire shoot straight down my body, ending up in the cleft between my legs. My panties were instantly soaked. His lips were soft, but his grip was firm and strong. He placed one hand on my chin, cupping it, and I felt my lips part for him. His tongue probed my mouth and he tasted like maple syrup pancakes and passion. Our mouths melted together, and I stifled a low moan.

His tongue swirled around mine, deeper, leading my tongue in an intimate dance.

Then I realized we were making out in front of a pastor, and I pulled away from him in shock. As I did, my body cried out in protest. More. I wanted more.

“Um, we’re in a house of God, making out in front of a man of God. Lightning might strike us or something,” I said.

“It’s okay, honey,” he smirked. “We’re married.”