I squeezed his hand back, enjoying (too much) the feel of his calloused palm against mine.
When the registrar asked me to repeat the words, Jared kept holding my hand and I repeated the words without a hitch.
“Now, turn to each other, please.”
We did so and I reached for Jared’s other hand so we held them between us. I gave him a mischievous smile that lightened his expression for a brief second.
“Jared, repeat after me …” She declared the words for Jared to repeat.
His big hands tightened around mine, and I found myself staring at his mouth as he said in that rumbly delicious voice of his, “I call upon these persons, here present, to witness that I, Jared McCulloch, do take thee, Allegra Emma Howard, to be my lawful wedded wife.” His fingers squeezed harder around mine upon the wordwife. I dragged my gaze off his lips to meet his and there was something intense in his eyes I couldn’t quite decipher. A shiver skated down my spine.
A few seconds later, I found myself repeating, “I call upon these persons, here present, to witness that I, Allegra Emma Howard, do take thee, Jared McCulloch, to be my lawful wedded husband.”
Husband.
This man was seconds from becoming my husband.
Holy shit.
My stomach flip-flopped so aggressively, it stole my breath.
The registrar offered us the rings. I took the gold wedding band I knew had been Jared’s grandfather’s and tried not to get emotional about it for him. When he’d presented them to me last night, he’d told me the rings belonged to his grandparents and that they’d suffice for the ruse. I’d asked him if he was okay with that, and he’d just shrugged and said aye. I wasn’t so sure, but we didn’t have any other options.
I trembled as Jared slipped his grandmother’s simple gold band onto my finger. And a possessiveness I knew I had no right to feel swelled in my chest as I slid his grandfather’s gold band onto his. Both of the rings were a little big for us, but it didn’t stop the weird primal urge to jump him at the sight of the symbol of our marriage.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Mr. McCulloch.”
Oh shit.
Yeah, I forgot about this part.
He gave me a questioning look and I returned it with a barely perceptible nod.
Then he kissed me.
And I mean, he KISSED me.
He released my hands to wrap one of his around my nape, yanking me none-too-gently against his hard body before pressing his lips over mine.
I gasped in surprise at the move, allowing his tongue to lick over mine.
Desire flooded me, my skin burning hot, my fingers curling into his suit jacket as I returned his voracious kiss. Jared McCulloch kissed like it would be his last. It was the kind of kiss that made you want to fuck.
His hand tightened on my neck seconds before he pulled back, gentling the embrace, and he released me with a shivery brush of his mouth over mine.
My lips felt swollen and I was pretty sure the strapless bra I wore just barely concealed my pebbled nipples.
Holy fuck.
Had I ever reacted to a kiss like that in my life?
Nope.
No.
In fact, kissing had always been low on my pleasure scoreboard when it came to sex. I’d always preferred the main event.
Until now!
