The Alpha's Chosen Bride

Patrick Vance saw her well before she ever knew he even existed. It was Wednesday and he'd been using the weight room at the recreational center where he worked, his own alma mater, Mitchell College. He wasn't working out because he enjoyed it, but because he didn't like becoming soft and that's exactly what had been becoming of him lately. His marriage, his desk job, his lunches with colleagues and the dinners with his family had left him just that--soft. It was nothing too pervasive yet, but he noted his other co-workers and their expanding waistlines and decided that he didn't want to become "that guy". That guy that was pudgy in the middle and had a "dad bod". He shuddered at the thought of becoming "that guy." He had never been soft before. He was the running back for his high school football team and then his college team. While neither team was especially successful, they made a decent showing. After college, he married Nicole, a pretty cheerleader that he'd dated for the last two years of college. Her father was wealthy and well connected. Her mother was on all the desired charitable committees. Nicole graduated with a degree in elementary education. She was kind and while she wasn't what he'd call sexually adventurous, she had a great body that she kept in perfect shape. He took a job at university which put to use his natural charisma and sought donations. He was popular, well liked and good-looking. He organized fundraisers, meet and greets, reunions, and every conceivable function that could turn a profit for the school. They bought a historic Victorian home not far from his work that needed some fixing up, but was in an enviable neighborhood. It was a good investment and with some help from his dad who was a carpenter by trade, the house was soon worth well over what he'd paid for it. He did well and with little effort. He was also bored. He was bored with all the same people, the same parties and the same jokes being told repeatedly. He woke every morning and did the same thing. More importantly, the truth about what he was stayed hidden. It was hidden in upper class, boring society dinners and in the drudgery of being "the perfect couple" and having the "dream". That would all come to a crashing end if the truth was known. No, he'd blocked all his family, except his father who, oddly, understood why he refused his heritage. His words had been, "I denied it too, you know. We all want to be normal. The problem with that is that when you deny what you are, you take not only from yourself, but those who would love you for everything you are. I would never have accepted your mother and my family had I not realized it in time. It is your life, though, and you must live it. I can not do it for you." This would have been fine for most men and even for him, but this little part of him quietly screamed for something more. It made him stay to watch the football team practice, made him park all the way out on the edge of campus instead of using the staff parking space. It's what made him refuse to sell his old Mustang for a more sensible Audi or Mercedes. It's what kept him from agreeing to have children. Most days he felt the walls of his life closing in on him and the thought of adding a child into that already shrinking space was terrifying. It made him want to run and then keep running towards...freedom. The freedom to be himself. The thought of his freedom, even temporary freedom, was too much to resist and he left his office most afternoons for the rec center. The facility, which had once been only a few rooms with some weights, a few cardio treadmills and locker rooms, was now state of the art, thanks to the donations he had drummed up. It now had both indoor and outdoor pools, a running track, all new equipment, yoga rooms, ballet rooms, a rock climbing wall and a security system that required fingerprints to enter. He was proud of all the changes his work had wrought, but underneath it all, he was aware that the university always wanted more. Always. Still, he didn't let the pressure of his job impede his enjoyment of his afternoons of freedom. He lifted weights absently, his headphones thrumming out Soundgarden and Incubus. It filled the empty spaces of his mind and took him back to the time before he met Nicole, not that Nicole was something he regretted. She was beautiful and possessed an intelligence that was subtle enough that it never threatened him. She steered him calmly through the waters of everything with s*x, laughter and direction that at the time he thought he needed. If he was honest, he knew that without her, he could still be drifting through life letting it happen to him, instead of reaching goals. Then a tiny voice in his head needled him and asked, "Would that have been so bad? Are these your goals anyway?" He always shook the voice off, but it was true. All the goals he had achieved were the goals that Nicole had set for him. She had chosen the house and encouraged him to take the job that he didn't mind, but didn't love either. It was all very normal and all very boring. Now she wanted children and he felt the last vestige of himself was under siege. It was at that moment when the voice had begun its barrage of questions that she appeared. He saw her as he was going towards the locker room and she was coming out. She was in pink and white, soft but still strong with muscled legs that were lightly tanned and disturbingly covered in bruises. She wore no makeup, and her caramel-colored hair that shimmered with blonde highlights was caught up in a high ponytail. Despite the ponytail, her hair hung down her back to the top curve of her generous backside. She looked down at her tennis shoes, her teeth chewing absently on her bottom lip, which once again was full, but not remarkably so. She would have merely been pretty until she looked up at him with huge, dark eyes. At that moment, the sun chose to come out from behind the clouds and streamed over both of them. They gleamed with a golden radiance and their feet kept moving towards each other until, quite by accident, their bodies collided into each other for a brief moment, his body slightly damp with sweat, hers was fresh and smelling like powder. His mouth opened in surprise. He breathed out something unintelligible and she looked at him as if she was unsure if he was speaking to her. Normally, Patrick was immune to beauty. His wife was beautiful, he was beautiful and their families were beautiful. It was unremarkable to him and was, to him, as ordinary as breakfast cereal. This woman's beauty was different and as he watched her walk away, slightly embarrassed for no reason he could discern, the full impact of her hit him like a sledgehammer. She moved with sensual grace that wasn't too obvious or deliberate. It was simply s****l, despite her "girl next door" prettiness. Her bottom in the pink workout shorts swayed with every step and her generous breasts bounced, all the while her ponytail swung back and forth. Swish, swish. Her breasts pushed against her T-shirt and he could see the outline of her n*****s clearly through the fabric. He watched, still open-mouthed, until the woman disappeared around the corner towards the cardio room. What should have been just another pretty girl on campus was transformed into something more. He followed her, thinking for a moment that he could chat her up, before belatedly remembering that he was married, there were staff that knew him and knew his wife. His wife. This woman was completely different from her in every way. He chose a treadmill in the middle of the room so that, unless she suddenly changed course, he would be able to see her. She wasn't tall and thin like his wife, no, she was petite and rounded. He watched her make her way through to hop onto a stair stepper. She slid on her headphones and adjusted what he assumed was her phone. She closed her eyes as the machine began to move, the steps moving slowly and she took them blindly, knowing that each foot would land exactly where it should. Her closed eyes allowed him to watch her unfettered by the worry that she might notice his focused attention. He stared surreptitiously at her the entire forty-five minutes as she climbed the stairs until her phone rang. She opened her eyes, looked at her phone and immediately turned off the machine. She answered and began moving towards the women's locker room, passing him by without noticing him. He heard her say very soothingly, "I'll be right there. Don't worry." He wondered who she was assuring, who was so important that she would leave everything and what that person meant to her. He wanted to follow her and listen more, but sanity returned to him almost as suddenly as it had left him. He was going to be late getting home and Nicole would be put out. He hurried from the gym, only stopping to get his gear, but he couldn't help but notice the woman once more as she got into her Mustang Shelby. He smiled from ear to ear at that sight. He couldn't help himself.