Soul Rest

by Joey W. Hill

  Marcie looked absolutely mesmerizing.

  The bodice of the corset top was white satin overlaid by lace, the wiring lifting and framing her breasts, but that was where solid fabric stopped. The remainder of the corset was see-through lace to her hips, patterned with intricately beaded appliques. At her navel, the satin backing resumed, but it started in a point and sloped in a widening triangle of solid satin toward her hip bones, leaving translucent lace over her sides all the way to the tops of her thighs. From there satin and more brocade took over, hugging her lower body and backside in a mermaid style skirt that accented the curves of her hips, the graceful lines of her legs. The short train slid over the carpet of white rose petals laid down by her sister Cherry, her flower girl. Marcie's blonde hair was pulled in a smooth, shining twist on the back of her head, a few tendrils teasing her delicate neck, but nothing else was in the way of what she wore there.

  Celeste had seen the collar Ben had given Marcie, because she wore it almost full-time. The stainless steel choker had an etching of three forget-me-nots on it. But she'd made it her only piece of jewelry today. No earrings or bracelets, a deliberate message to her groom.

  As they passed, Lucas escorting her on one side, Cassandra on the other, Cassandra looking a little weepy but happy, the audience was treated to the back of the dress. There was no space between the lacings that held Marcie's body in such breathtaking relief. White satin ribbons tied in a bow at her lower back trailed over the tempting swell of her hips in the snug mermaid skirt fit. The back of the corset was the same translucent lace with appliques, all the way to the dimples above her backside.

  It was as if Marcie was a young goddess, emanating a heady mix of erotic and all-dreams-come-true promise for one man, making that promise far deeper than just the physical. The one last touch she'd added to the back underscored it. Celeste's gaze was drawn to the bare line of Marcie's shoulder blades. At her nape, a temporary tattoo had been applied, flowing script edged with a silver pearlescent ink infused with tiny pinpoints of glitter like the appliques. Always Yours.

  Like the groomsmen and their wives, Celeste knew the significance of the collar Marcie wore, but the words on her back were a statement. They told Ben the collar was more than a commitment to the roles they played in Dom/sub sessions. It was a promise to be his forever.

  Celeste recalled the clasp of the collar Leland had put around her throat. Though it had been temporary, merely functional for their play that night, she'd accepted it so definitively she'd almost forgotten to remove it the morning after.

  Leland's hand tightened low on her hip, and when Celeste looked up at him, she saw all of it, everything she was thinking, everything stirring her up, reflected in her Master's eyes. She laid her hand on his chest, fingers sliding around the tie. When she moistened her lips, she couldn't keep her needs out of her eyes, and the grip of his fingers said he'd received all those messages. Everything she didn't know how to say, she didn't have to do so.

  Trying to contain a tremor, she focused on the altar. As impressed as the audience was, Celeste could tell Marcie's husband-to-be was the one most under her spell. But that was a two-way street, for Marcie was just as enchanted. Her attention was locked on Ben as if he was the only one watching her.

  She didn't break that lock until she reached the altar. Marcie turned to kiss Cassandra and hold her sister in a close embrace. Whether intended or not, it showed Ben the crescent shape of the words delicately scripted on her flesh. His gaze darkened further and he reached out, passing his fingers briefly over them as if he couldn't keep himself from doing so. Marcie drew back from her sister, dipping her head in charming, feminine acknowledgment of her Master's touch before she turned to Lucas. He kissed her cheek, touched her face. Then he offered her hand to Ben, the men exchanging a long look.

  As Dana gestured to the attendees to be seated, Celeste knew she wasn't the only one craning her neck to see that significant instant when Lucas stepped out of the way and Ben closed his hand over Marcie's. Except for that hot kiss at Cafe Beignet, she expected it was the first time they'd touched in a week. The look they exchanged, the way his fingers closed firmly over hers and he drew her to his side, her hand sliding under his arm to hold on, said they weren't likely to let go of one another anytime soon. He leaned in, pressed his cheek to hers, said something. Marcie smiled, then drew back to say something to Matt. Whatever it was, she swept all the men with a glance when she said it, and laughter rippled through the first few rows as a result.

  Celeste glanced up to see Leland grinning. Since he didn't suffer from the female sensibilities that had sucked her into the romance of the moment, he could fill in what she'd missed. Men were useful for such things.

  "'Pay up,'" he told Celeste. "That's what she said. Matt and the guys had a bet going that Ben wouldn't show up."

  Celeste's mouth dropped open. "How could they--" Then she caught the gleam in Leland's eye.

  "The proceeds from the bet are Ben's wedding gift," he said. "They all bet against him because of it."

  That backhanded male way of telling him they knew he would show up. It was the K&A men's show of faith in Ben. She curled both hands around Leland's arm as he settled his hand on her leg, thumb teasing the seam between her thighs, a gesture that spoke of the sexual intimacy between them, but more than that as well.

  The wedding was simple and sweet, Dana administering the traditional vows. Throughout the entire ceremony, the bride and groom's eyes remained on each other, all four hands clasped together. She'd never seen Ben so absorbed, so unaware of anything else in the world. Marcie's brown eyes were so full of him, Celeste couldn't stop a couple of tears from rolling from her own. Leland gave her his handkerchief, put his arm around her, pulled her close and kissed the top of her head as Dana pronounced them man and wife. The kiss began as a lingering press of lips, Ben's hands coming up to cup his new wife's delicate jaw, her hands resting on his sides inside his jacket. In a blink, the heat level accelerated, him folding her into his arms and turning it into a demanding embrace, Marcie melting against him and her lips parting underneath his. Applause and whistles broke out, until Dana swatted Ben on his shoulder with her Bible.

  "Consummation is not at the altar," she said severely. "Bunch of damn heathens."

  The audience burst into laughter. Marcie put her arms around Dana and hugged her. While Dana hugged her back, the minister completed the ceremony in a tone of fond exasperation. "Friends and family, may I introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Ben O'Callahan."

  Celeste joined Leland as they rose to their feet with the rest, whistling and clapping. She noticed Marcie's eyes were wet as Ben took her hand and they proceeded back down the aisle together. Each of the groomsmen took the arm of his respective wife, and Marcie's brother Nate brought up the rear with Cherry, Talia and Jessica following behind, all of Marcie's siblings wearing happy faces.

  "Now to the best part of a K&A wedding," Leland told her as she blew her nose. "Free food and alcohol. Enough of this mushy shit."

  "Jerk," she said, and stabbed him in the side with her elbow to reinforce the point. But she noticed she held on to his arm as they followed the rest of the audience toward the reception, and he seemed just as reluctant to let go of her. Mushy shit, indeed.

  SS

  A screened pavilion tent had been set up on the lawn to shelter the food and bar areas, with tables scattered around a dance platform. Ben and Marcie did a waltz to Christina Perri's "A Thousand Years," and followed it up with a Cajun fast step to Mindy McCready's "This Is Me," which drew everyone else out on to the dance floor. The men tried their best to get Leland to sing, but were unsuccessful until the bride intervened.

  Marcie stepped up to the microphone and pinned Leland with her doe brown eyes. "No one says no to the bride on her wedding day, Sergeant Keller. It's the law, and I know you respect the law."

  Celeste had to chuckle at his pained expression, but then he dutifully did as Marcie demanded. He chose to sing John Michael Montg
omery's "Rope the Moon," which brought all the married couples and lovers back out on to the floor with the newly wedded couple. When Leland finished, he gave Ben a direct look. "And you keep her believing those lyrics, else there'll be a posse of us to lynch your ass with that rope."

  Matt took the stage then. While Ben had acknowledged Leland's comment with a quick salute, he and Marcie went back to dancing in a slow sway to their own music, not a breath between their bodies. Marcie pressed her face into his throat, one hand on Ben's chest. She reached back with the other one to tangle fingers with the hand he had spread out low on her hip. His grip shifted to her wrist, holding her that way, arm pulled behind her, pressing her body more firmly into the angles and curves of his own. It was a less-than-subtle gesture of the Dominant/submissive relationship between them, and when he lifted his head to meet her gaze, her lips parted and their fingers tightened together, their bodies obviously responding to those overt nuances.

  Matt coughed into the microphone, loud enough to cause feedback, drawing their attention as a chuckle rippled through the crowd.

  "Thank you. It's almost as difficult to get him to pay attention in a meeting."

  Ben snorted. "Because I'm always ten steps ahead of you guys. You have to catch up to me."

  "No, it's because he's sexting Marcie and doesn't have time for work," Lucas called out from where he was sitting with Cassandra, arm behind her chair, his legs stretched out in front of him. "Time to fire his ass, Matt."

  "I would do that, but then he and Marcie would have to move back in with you and Cassandra."

  "Not with what I'm paying her to keep her out of your clutches," Savannah tossed out.

  A grin wreathed Matt's handsome features. "Marcie?" He dropped his voice to a dramatic stage whisper. "Just FYI, we offer better maternity benefits than Tennyson, when you and Ben decide the world is ready for little replicas of you."

  Tucking his tongue in his cheek at his wife's dagger look, he drew an envelope out of his suit coat, waving it at the crowd to hush the laughter. "We've already given Ben his wedding gift. Of course, every wise man knows what's hers is hers and what's his is hers, so technically you could say we've already given her a gift too. Nevertheless, we wanted to officially give Marcie something as well."

  Pulling out his phone, he glanced at it, then crossed his arms, tapping his toe as more titters ran through the crowd. "Just a few more seconds."

  Celeste became aware of the purring sound of an engine. Looking around, she didn't see anything, but Matt nodded, apparently receiving the cue he needed. "Some time ago, Ben put his car up for auction for the battered women's shelter we support. Richard Lewis bought it and funded the shelter's operating costs for a year." He pointed to the man in question, who raised his glass, amusement in his expression. Ben turned, gave him a quizzical look, and then he and Marcie brought their equally curious glances back to the stage.

  "There were many reasons Ben decided to do that. But the most important one was that he is a good man, with a good heart, who deserves the love of the woman he's holding right now. All of us"--he nodded toward the table where Peter, John and Lucas sat--"and the women we're lucky enough to have as our own, fully agree on that. We have no doubts. You understand?"

  Ben's expression grew still, and Marcie ran her hand over his shoulder, lifting on her toes to touch her lips to his throat as he held her.

  "We love you both," Matt said seriously. "And so you understand that we have no doubts, and to remind yourself of that whenever necessary, we decided this was the best gift for us to get Marcie. But I do emphasize"--he waved the envelope--"this is for her. You can't play with it unless she says it's okay."

  Another laugh from the crowd, and then Matt extended the envelope toward her.

  Marcie approached the stage, holding Ben's hand so he came with her. She released him only when she needed both hands to open the envelope. As she unfolded the piece of paper inside it, her eyes widened. "Oh my God."

  The engine sound became a revving noise. Everyone shifted toward the open side of the tent as a silver sports car emerged from behind the house. With Max at the wheel, the Mercedes-Benz McLaren Roadster carefully bumped over the lawn, coming to a halt at the fringe of outdoor tables arranged outside the tent. A large white bow was tied over the gleaming hood.

  Marcie squealed in delight. Ben tossed Matt a narrow look, though a smile flirted around his mouth. "I hope Lewis charged you full price," he said darkly.

  Marcie flew through the crowd, holding up her skirt, revealing she'd ditched her shoes some time back, so she was now in bare feet as she ran to the car. Max was getting out of it, unfolding his large frame from the bucket seat. When he dropped the keys into her palm, she embraced him enthusiastically and then whirled toward Ben. "This is almost worth marrying you," she called out over the whistles and cheers.

  Despite her teasing, when Marcie stretched out her hand to her husband, there was no doubt that he was the only man she wanted, the one that filled her shining eyes with love. Celeste didn't think any man in the world would have been able to resist her, let alone the man who loved her best of all.

  As he caught her fingers in his, Ben drew her close, putting his arm around her waist and pressing the backs of her legs against the car when he bent and kissed her throat. Marcie slid her arms around his shoulders, but as her lips parted, Celeste thought she detected a shudder. She had a feeling Ben had just told her in concise detail what he planned to do to her on the hood of that car.

  "If the two of them get any more combustible, they're going to incite an orgy," Leland commented.

  Celeste slanted him a glance. "Would that be a problem, Sergeant?"

  "Private property and out of my jurisdiction. None of my business." He shot her a smile, sliding his arm behind her, then lower to caress the top of her buttocks, his fingers playing in the seam between them through the thin cloth of her dress. "I'm just counting the minutes until that after-party."

  Though she was enjoying the festivities, at the look in his eyes, she had to agree. The worries she had about what might or might not happen there seemed far less important than the desire she had to be even closer to her Master than she was right now. Ben and Marcie's obvious desire for one another was a contagion, and she was already feeling fever symptoms.

  SS

  When the reception concluded, there were several hours to endure before the after-party. She had graphic visions of the things Leland might do to pass the time in the privacy of the guest bedroom, but instead he left her with a hot kiss on the front porch, his possessive hands sliding over her hips as he gazed down at her.

  "I have to go check on some things with Matt and the others. I'd recommend a nap. I left you a gift, if you decide you want to wear it tonight."

  She raised a brow, but he bent to kiss her again. She met him eagerly, doing her best to convince him he needed to come back to the bedroom with her, her body rubbing against his until he untangled her arms from his neck and gave her a mock-severe look.

  "Behave, woman." But he ran a thumb over her lips and his warm look said he wasn't displeased with her. It occurred to her then she hadn't been feeling that push-pull inside her she often had with him. Maybe weddings were like Christmas, bringing out a person's better side. If that was the case, she wanted Leland to reap the full benefit of that. His body against hers, the firm pressure of him against her stomach, the way his hands gripped her, made her desire all the more acute.

  She thought of Marcie in that beautiful dress, Ben's eyes hot on every inch of her. The love that had woven itself around all that desire made the day perfect for them in every way. She needed Leland to assuage this ache, a tangle of lust and need as well. She couldn't bear another moment. There was too much pressure building inside her, and she didn't know how it would manifest tonight, in front of other people. She might do things she couldn't take back, things she couldn't control.

  Okay, maybe weddings didn't help. Or they brought out the brat in a different for
m, because she could feel the shift inside her from pleasurable yearning to fierce insistence, whatever else was happening right now be damned.

  "Celeste. Darlin'." He caught her nape in a firm grip, snapping her attention up to him. She met golden-brown eyes that held that steady calm, that implacable look. "Settle down."

  She jerked away, turned and left him. She needed to breathe. Needed to get a grip. What was the matter with her? She went back into the house, up the stairs and to the guestroom. She'd forgotten what he'd said about a gift until she was there and saw the slim gray velvet box on the bed, tied with a silver bow.

  She sank down next to it, rubbing her forehead. She'd been fine until she'd let her thoughts run away with her. Sometimes she thought her quicksilver moods happened because of some dark trigger inside her. If she was too happy or content, it sprang like a trap, dragging her back into the shadows. Today everything was about light, good, love. Suddenly she felt out of place here, and she knew she shouldn't feel that way. She wasn't isolated. She wasn't alone. She just kept making herself feel that way.

  Setting her jaw, she put the box in her lap, untied the bow. Removing the lid, she pulled back a thin piece of tissue paper to see what lay on the white satin beneath.

  Everything whirling inside her came to a portentous halt.

  She sensed him in the doorway. Though she hadn't expected him to follow her, she'd hoped he would. That was what he did to her. He made her hope, and he kept making her hope, because he kept doing things she didn't expect. Like being there when she needed him, knowing what she needed to make a bad feeling better.

  "It's beautiful," she said in a small voice.

  He came into the room, a big man who made the floorboards vibrate as he walked. If they lived together, she would always know where he was, would always feel his presence vibrate through her physically as well as emotionally.

  Dropping to one knee beside her, he unhooked the string of black-and-silver beads around her throat, a piece of costume jewelry that worked with the dress. Then he lifted the necklace out of the box. "Let's see if I have the measurements right."