Rocking the Rehearsal
Juliette and Elizabeth are already at the church helping the priest and his assistant corral the wedding party when I arrive. Each of the bridesmaids practices with a small but elaborate bouquet of ribbon bows, all red.
My princess, in her element, hasn't noticed me yet. She’s focused on being the wedding coordinator, moving from person to person, introducing herself to those she doesn't know, answering questions, keeping things on track for the indulgent priest who must have been through this routine at least a hundred times over the span of his career. She's efficient and patient and friendly, with some distance. She's beautiful. And she’s mine.
Even if she doesn’t fully recognize it yet.
The long sheer black skirt of her evening gown swirls around her legs as she moves, highlighting her lithe grace. The bands of the main part of her dress sculpt her body. Her ponytail swings, too, beckoning me to fist it and pull her to me so I can ravish her. The dress is so short and form-fitting it might as well be a swimming suit. There's no way she's wearing stockings tonight. Clothed from neck to toe, she's nevertheless one step away from naked.
I've always sneered at men who complain about what their wives or girlfriends wear at parties or out in public. To me, the women always look fine and are entitled to look sexy if it makes them feel good. Right now I have an impulse to wrap Juliette in her coat. The idea of my brothers, not to mention men who are not in the family, seeing so much of Juliette looking so…shaggable…makes me understand the poor dolts I sneered at before.
Damn. I shouldn’t have thought about shagging. I shift my hips and think of my mother and being in church. Works like a charm. Body back under control.
Juliette works her way around to me.
"Ready to rehearse?" she asks brightly.
She responds to something in my face and comes over to stand beside me. "Everything okay?"
I enfold her in my arms and hold her close, calming my emotions. "You're so beautiful."
"Leo," she says tenderly, cupping the side of my face, her soft eyes gazing up at me. I know I need to stop holding her before the rest of the group gets too interested and before my body doesn’t care it’s in church.
I give a deprecating little ghost of a laugh. "I don't think I can bear to turn you loose."
Thankfully, she doesn't pull away. I feel her slow inhale. "You have such a wonderful man-smell, Leo. It's intoxicating." I'm glad there's something about me that appeals to her the way everything about her appeals to me.
Elizabeth brings us back to the present with a polite cough. "I think we should get started," she says, and turns away.
I let my arms fall and stand beside Tony at the altar, my brother Mick on my other side, and baby brother, Jack, on the end.
When the priest instructs, Juliette, as maid of honor, floats up the aisle first, to stand across from us. She's followed by a cousin of Cleo's—I think her name is Lorena—and Jack's wife, Jillian, is the last bridesmaid. A child of about ten years old, carrying a basket, makes the trek and stands by Jillian. Is she the flower girl? Finally, the elated madcap, in a deep red strapless gown, makes her dramatic walk up the aisle, dragging her proud but beleaguered father with her. I glance at Tony, whose shining eyes never waver from her face.
I’m happy for him. What would it be like to watch the woman I’d finally found to spend the rest of my life with march down the aisle toward me? Ready to make the final commitment to me? My gaze roams over Juliette. Could she be the one?
The rest of the mock ceremony flashes by in fast-forward. We receive a few last instructions and explanations from the priest, who fields a couple of questions, then we're done and it's time to hit the restaurant for dinner. I find Juliette, to kiss her one last time because I can't seem to stop touching her, and we walk out to the parking lot together.
*****
Leo's in a strange mood tonight. If he were a woman, I'd describe it as clingy. In a man I guess the term is attentive, but there's mood with it, not just being an attentive date. We sit beside each other during dinner at the table with the other groomsmen and bridesmaids. It's fun listening to the brothers rag each other, telling stories and teasing, with Jillian jumping in to harass them.
Leo pulls his chair a little closer to mine and holds my hand under the tablecloth whenever we aren't juggling cutlery. When I feel him slide my chiffon skirt up over my knees, I swallow a gasp and make sure the tablecloth is providing enough modesty. I bite my lip when his hand moves underneath my skirt and strokes the inside of my thigh. He swipes a finger across my panty, and I shift in my seat, trying to dislodge him.
It's the first time I've attended one of Events' parties as a guest, and I’m divided all night, checking on things with my practiced eye, yet pulling my consciousness back to focus on the conversation at my table and keeping my attention on what Leo's naughty fingers are up to. Two chairs at every table are empty which allows the bride and groom to visit and invites the group to mix and mingle. My head swims from meeting so many family members. Leo's attentions turn insistent when Tony and Cleo stop by the table. It's challenging to keep conversation going with them while Leo's fingers are bringing me to a crisis underneath the table.
The menu was drafted with mingling in mind—lots of amuse bouche one-bite nibbles on each table during cocktails, then everyone migrates back to their assigned table for a main course of lamb chops in blackberry marsala sauce, cauliflower puree, and roasted asparagus. Finally, platters of petits fours and macarons go on each table encouraging guests to begin milling again through this more informal dessert.
Instead of indulging in cake, Leo offers to accompany me to the ladies' room. A pretty fair notion of what he has in mind, I rise to go with him. We pass the restrooms and go to a door off the hallway. Leo opens it, pulls me into the small office with him. He flips the lock before sliding both his hands up my legs under the chiffon, then pushes the bottom of my dress up, too, until I'm exposed from the waist down.
His murmur sends shivers along my nerve endings. "I knew you couldn't be wearing anything but panties under this dress. So naughty.” Thumbs hook my tiny black lace panties and draw them down my legs.
He stands and unzips his fly. "We'll have to be quick. But I didn't think I could last another minute without being inside you."
"You're wasting time talking," I breathe, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. His laugh is dark and seductive as he buries his face in my neck, then his big, hard cock in my pussy. Lacking a free wall, he backs me up against the side of a filing cabinet and thrusts, hard and deep, straining at the top of each stroke. I am close enough from the endless foreplay through dinner that I climax almost instantly.
He's not fazed. Although he groans in acknowledgement of my release, he keeps thrusting right through my shudders. His only concession is to close his mouth over mine and silence my sounds. His cock is thick, hungry, and demanding. Leo’s lost in his driving need to climax, pulling me hard against him while shoving deep with each thrust. When he gets close, he uses a thumb on my clit to help me to a second orgasm. My spasms clench on him and bring him over the edge to his own release. He pumps longer and stronger than usual, then collapses against me with a drawn-out groan, holding me tight with one arm under my bottom and the other around my waist. We pant from the frenzied exertion.
He doesn't let me go until our breathing has returned to normal. Flexing his knees to connect my feet to the floor, he pulls out of me, causing me to wince. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and cleans gently between my legs, then helps me step back into my undies. He adjusts his clothing and runs a quick eye over me to make sure we're ready to leave our makeshift bower.
My fingers comb through his mussed hair. “What was that about?”
He doesn’t look my way as he finishes cleaning us up. “I don’t know. The time, the place, seeing you working in your official capacity, the week we’ve had. I just needed you.”
A stunning reply. One I’m not sure what to do with. "Feel better?"
"Barely," he grunts, hand at my low back as we rejoin the party. "I'm used to having you all to myself. You've spoiled me, Juliette."
We arrive back at our table. He kisses me on the temple and we sit, I somewhat gingerly. His smile is very private, filled with masculine satisfaction.
The sexy beast.