by Carol Devine
He traced lines across her forehead, dwelling on her temples. "You sure think a lot, Doc. A lot more than I do, at any rate. But yeah, take the time you need. I won't be going anywhere."
She took his big and calloused hand, folding it between her own. "Me, neither. You understand, don't you, Shane? I believe in forever, too. It needs to be in the right place. I believe that, too. A wonderful place where we feel free to say things that have been private until now. I'm ready to do that. There's no question. The only question is where my voice will carry the loudest."
Shane stroked her cheek. "This is hard for me to say. But while I have you here, being understanding and all..."
"Uh-oh."
"What about Bird? Is he going to be invited?"
She sighed. "Why are you pushing this now?"
"I'm not pushing for or against. But we need to talk about it. He's a reality we have to face."
"Sometimes I pretend he doesn't exist. Sometimes it's too hard."
"Let's table him, too. Bringing it up is enough for now."
"You're not going to make me choose?"
"Choose what?"
"Between what you want and what I want."
"It's not an either/or. He really is just a man, like I am. No better and no worse."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You can't be serious. You're a saint compared to him."
"We're all sinners in the eyes of the Lord. I remember that much from Sunday School."
She scooted back, agitated. "Why are you saying these things? It's almost like you're setting me up to take a very big fall."
"I don't want to disappoint you, Mariah. But I know I eventually will because I'm human."
Mariah couldn't help the tremor in her voice. "What are you saying? That you're stepping out on me or want to step out on me?"
"Whatever it is I'm saying, I'm messing it up real bad. No, I'm not stepping or looking or whatever my voice just said. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not interested in going anywhere. I'd rather die than go anywhere or be anywhere without you. I would never hurt you like that, never hurt you about anything deliberately. But maybe someday, not today or tomorrow or next week, cause we're strong together right now, but someday, I'll forget your birthday or our anniversary or say the wrong thing at the wrong time, or do something you won't agree with, and I need to know you'll forgive me, Mariah, cause I'm not sure if you'll ever forgive Bird, and if you can't forgive him, how could you forgive me?"
She breathed easier. "Talk about thinking ahead."
"Too much, huh? Once I start worrying, it's hard to let go. The baby's got me going, there's you, there's getting married, there's my stables, there's family, there's life. See? I'm already letting you down."
"You're not letting me down. You're building me up. I appreciate the warning. Of course, you're right. Both of us are human and though you say I'm perfect in every way, I'm sure you might find something I could improve on from time to time."
Shane seized the opportunity to change the subject. He resumed tracing her forehead, drawing little circles and loop-de-loos. "Now that you mention it, I did want to complain about something."
"Seriously, Shane. If something I do bothers you, especially sexually, you need to tell me right away."
"Don't know if your ego can handle this one, Dr. McBride." His eyes sparkled with mischief.
"What is it?"
He contemplated the ceiling. "How do I put this?"
"Shane, I don't like suspense any more than surprises."
His finger touched her mouth, outlining her lips. "It's just that..."
Apprehensive, Mariah closed her eyes. The skin around her mouth came alive, shooting sensation to chin through scalp, drizzling down her neck, knotting her nipples and heating her blood.
She swallowed at the wonderfulness of it and heard hoarseness affect her throat, making her voice sound husky. "Okay, maybe I do like a little suspense."
"I'll keep doing it then."
She peeked at him. "But you have to tell me what's bothering you."
His finger centered on her lower lip. "You need to kiss me more."
Her eyes flew open, trying to ascertain if he was serious or not. "Oh, really?"
"Here and now is a perfect example. I am doing my damndest and you're sitting there like nothing is happening."
"Excuse me? Something is happening. Plenty is happening. I'm feeling like it's Christmas and tiny lights are coming on under my skin."
"Interesting visual. Care to tell me more?"
"Are you looking for talk or for me to kiss you?" She kissed his hand, kissed a few fingers, sucked the tips. "Can't have it both ways."
His arousal was hard against her thigh. "When you put it that way, the decision is already made."
She teased his towel open. "You know what's going to happen next? I'm going to kiss you all over, make up for this lack you're experiencing. I'm going to torture you with kisses. I'm going to kiss your mouth and your chest and that tender place right behind your...
"Don't say it or I'm liable to explode here and now."
"Ear. I was about to say ear. My, what a dirty mind you have."
"What's next? After the ear, I mean."
"I think I'd rather show you. That is my main area of expertise. I'll leave the talking to you. In fact, feel free to tell me exactly what to do since, clearly, my kisses have been unsatisfactory to you."
"A love slave. Is that what you're offering?"
She skimmed the hair on his chest, drawing her name. "Your personal love slave. I trust you to take full advantage of the offer without making me regret it."
"Man, you don't know what you're in for. You trusting me like this is better than an aphrodisiac."
"Is this what you meant when you said I needed to prepare myself to forgive your transgressions?"
"Exactly what I was talking about. I'm going to make you sorry you ever offered to be my love slave."
"How are you going to do that?"
"The plan is, about halfway through, I'm going to turn the tables on you. I'm going to force you to make me your love slave. How about them apples?"
"I definitely like them apples."
"Like Adam and Eve, only without the serpent devil."
She drew the towel away.. "I think the serpent devil might make an appearance."
"Geez, woman. Enough talk. You promised to show me."
"Tell me what you want. You must have had something special in mind when you started bellyaching."
"Love slaves aren't real common in these parts. My imagination isn't quite as good as yours. I need some... hints. Maybe you should tell me what you want to do and I'll be sure to agree."
"I have an idea. I'm going to butter you up."
"You've been doing that. I'm ready for the big finale."
She stood up and started unbuttoning her blouse. "We have a new box in the fridge."
Shane lifted his head, startled. "Are you talking real, creamery butter? Stage a scene from an old x-rated film?"
"Sounds like we saw the same film. I'm sorry if that's a sin to you Presbyterians. You'll have to forgive me."
His eyes gleamed with mischief. "I'll forgive you if you forgive me for asking if we can commit the same sin again sometime, and watch something x-rated in the privacy of our bedroom."
"You don't have time to watch TV, remember?"
"If you pick the movie, I'll make the sacrifice."
"Such a gentleman."
"A few minutes ago I was the devil himself." He amplified his voice. "Be a slave to my desires and I'll shower you with gold."
"Dear me. I think I may have unleashed the beast within."
"If I'm the beast, then you're the beauty, Mariah. Your neck is so graceful. And the little hollow you have at the base of your throat. Sometimes I can see your heart beating there. It's very sweet."
"I'm glad you think so." She shrugged off her blouse. "Can we get back to business now? Order me to the kitchen. I'll even take the rest of my clothes
off if you want me to run around the house naked."
"First say thank you for my excellent compliment."
"Very well, my prince." She bowed her head. "Thank you."
"When I say you're magnificent you have to say... what?"
"Thank you."
"You're wonderful." He waited. "Come on, you promised to obey."
"Thank you. You're wonderful, too."
"No qualifiers, but thank you all the same. I can't wait to see you with our baby. You're already a fantastic mother, the way you take care of yourself, eating right, doing your yoga and getting eight hours of sleep."
"That's a little overwhelming in terms of volume, but thank you."
"I'll go smaller. You have the cutest nose."
"Thank you."
"And your eyes. Have I ever told you how your eyes change color with your mood? There's this silver around your irises I love..."
"Thank you."
"It tells me something is happening inside your body. Something sexy and surprising and sexy and it really makes me want to--"
"You're laying it on too thick. Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"Thank you, Shane." She showed her impatience by giving him a thorough once over, taking in the sight of his whole naked body. "Is it time to turn the tables yet?"
He began to outline her nipples with the tips of his fingers. "Not yet. I'm going to find a new way to torture you."
She shivered. "Oh, goody. Can't wait. What's going to happen next?"
"Tell me one of your fantasies and we'll act it out."
"I didn't think this could get any more disturbing but you hit a home run with that one. You want to plumb the depths of my imagination?"
"Save some of the good stuff for later. One fantasy is enough for now. Make it short if you're feeling a little shy, at least to begin with. This old cowboy might not be up to swinging from the chandeliers like Christian Grey."
"It sounds like that was one movie you didn't see. Swinging from chandeliers was hardly their thing."
"Ana talks about him like he's the real deal. I just hope, whatever your fantasy is, I'm up to the job."
Mariah pushed him down on the sofa. "Oh, you're up to the job, take my word for it."
"In that case, begin thy fantasy, my slave."
She straddled him and guided his hands to her waist. Her hips moved in provocative ways, a hula dance on his naked lap. She cupped her breasts and went glittery-eyed, focused on pleasure, his and hers, flicking her nipples, offering them. "Your wish is my command."
He kissed her proffered flesh and slid his hands under her ass, massaging it. He probed with his fingers, finding the opening of her sex, separating for full exploration. His repositioned her and his cock did the honors, making her wet, making her hot, slickened to the point where she couldn't control herself.
She drew breath in and gyrated, literally screwing him in tight. It was perfect. She was perfect, raining kisses from every orifice possible, slick with her mouth, slick on his lap. Tongue behind his ear, lapping along his jaw, a salve on his chin, her lips closing on his lips, kissing deep.
The drive to completion surged through him. He gripped her hips, forcing her to be still, then drove into her. She arched, making room for all of him, kissing his throat, his sideburns, lips to his ear.
"Love you," she whispered. "Love all of you."
He came harder than any explosion. It was the climax to end all climaxes. It refused to end. He groaned and strained against her, and she gripped him tight, gripped shoulders, biceps, forearms, gripped him deep inside her body. The feeling went on and on, dizzying him, vertigo to the max.
She collapsed, groaning, too. She wiggled her hips like she was drawing her orgasm out. He was afraid he'd hurt her but she relaxed against him.
"That was a good one," she said.
* * * * *
Outside the stone church in a special tent set up for the wedding entourage, Shane and Bird stood together, dressed for the ceremony.
Bird was standing in front of Shane, concentrating, making a concerted effort to pin a boutonniere on Shane's black satin lapel. Chin down, Shane eyed the long pin Bird wielded like a miniature sword, made shaky in his hand from withdrawal.
Bird finally managed it. He stepped away, swiped his eyes. Roughened from chain-smoking cigarettes, his voice choked up. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be invited."
Shane made short work of pinning Bird's boutonniere. "Just don't blow it, Bird. I promised Mariah to watch you like a hawk and keep you sober for the day. Think you can manage it?"
"Sometimes it's second by second. I'm doing my best."
"I know you are. You clean up good, Bird. Make her proud."
"That's a pretty tall order."
Bird sounded more and more nervous which didn't help Shane's nerves at all. Dressed in a black and white penguin suit, about to get married, he hardly knew what to do with himself. Every muscle in his body was thrumming with electricity. He couldn't sit still much less stand still.
Who came up with the dumbass idea of the groom not seeing the bride ahead of time? He'd feel so much better if he knew for sure Mariah was on her way, dressed from head to toe in white and ready to hit the stage. Instead, he kept picturing her SUV, racing out of town at two hundred miles per hour.
The minister stuck his head inside the tent. "Time to take your places inside the church, gentlemen."
Shane turned to Bird for the tenth time that morning. "Do you have the ring?"
"Yep, in the same pocket that I had it in the last nine times you asked. Here I am, thinking I'm nervous. Didn't think you would be."
He wasn't nervous. Petrified was a better word. He didn't know what he'd do if she didn't show up. Kill her, probably, then gear up for another ten rounds of "I Love You to Pieces."
Shane glanced at Bird and, in that moment, hated the guy. What a number he'd done on Mariah. He barely had a clue, and since Shane was pretty sure sobriety would be a distant memory by the time the wedding reception was over, Bird would soon forget any clue he did have.
But deep in his gut, Shane also knew it was important for Bird to be there. For understandable reasons, he didn't get the privilege of walking his daughter up the aisle. That honor went to Jose Garcia, Ana's dad, who'd been more of a father to Mariah than any other man.
But Shane figured Bird could handle official duties of some sort. Since his behavior on the day of the wedding had to be closely monitored, best man seemed like a natural fit, as long as what was expected of him was only providing the ring. Shane's brother, Ian, understood his role as untitled best man, which meant the Youngblood brothers and family were united in the plan.
Just in case Bird couldn't handle any official duties, Shane had another backup plan. The actual ring, the simple gold band Mariah had chosen for herself, was in the breast pocket of his tuxedo jacket. Shane might be willing to give Bird a chance to attend and play a part, but Bird certainly wasn't going to have a chance to screw anything up.
Called by the minister, Shane hid his nervousness under the guise of a take-charge bulldogger, ready to give the audience a rocking good time. He strode up the aisle to the front of the stone church where green grass grew around the chiseled granite of a century old altar.
More grass grew where wooden pews had been, but now it was like a grass field, crowded with family and friends seated in white folding chairs. The congregation was split down the middle by a red carpet that formed a wide aisle, ending at the altar where they would stand when saying and taking their vows.
He took in the sight and sound of the four person string quartet sitting on music benches, stroking their fancy instruments in what was once the church choir section. Apparently, Ivy League graduates with advanced degrees believed classical music provided the gravitas necessary for a wedding staged inside a ruin of a stone church, roofed by brilliant blue sky.
Shane had to confess, the shafts of sunlight warming his shoulders were a pretty miraculous touch. He r
ecognized native blue larkspur in the tall vases of bright wildflowers flanking the altar. He worked to stay steady on his mark, facing the congregation. Bird waited by his side, looking wide-eyed at the sea of faces, but standing rock solid which was something of a surprise.
The music paused, then changed to Mendelssohn's Wedding March. The seated guests stood and turned to face the back of the church.
Ana stepped through the entrance first, wearing an ice-blue dress that complimented her coloring, especially her smoky brown eyes and jet black hair.
She floated down the red carpet in slow motion, making Shane feel the pounding anticipation in his chest. Once she reached the altar, she slipped to the bride's side, directly opposite Bird's position. Everybody returned their attention to the open doorway at the back of the church.
The music rose higher, louder. Mariah stepped through the entrance, ushered by the distinguished Mr. Garcia. His salt and pepper hair and dark gray suit complemented her ivory gown. It was elegantly simple, free-flowing over her burgeoning belly but with a surprisingly low dip in the neckline, revealing décolletage, swollen by pregnancy.
Her willingness to bare that much of herself impressed Shane no end. The upper curves of her breasts were beauteous in their bounty. Her head was covered by a cascade of lace that framed her arms like the wings of swans, as poetic a thought as he ever got. Her hair was unbound, loose and softly curled, an unusual and sensually unsettling sight. Under the sun, strands picked up the sheen of spun gold.
The vows he'd written on the note cards tucked in his sleeve became inadequate, small scratches on paper, not big enough to describe what he saw in her or what he felt.
He fought the urge to drop to his knees and say what was likely to be multiple and tumbling thoughts, far worse and incoherent than what he'd committed to paper. But the impulse nevertheless remained, sending tremors through his legs.
Mariah, for her part, was grateful to have Mr. Jose Garcia at her side, wise in the ways of the world. He offered a steady arm.
She probably would have weaved back and forth otherwise, mindless about her path because her eyes were on Shane and Shane only. Tall and broad-shouldered, he was suited in a formal tuxedo that fit him so well, Mariah was tempted to cover her mouth to hide a fit of nervous giggles. Getting him into the tux had taken some doing.