17. Saturday, June 23, 2012
SATURDAY, JUNE 23, 2012
B y the time Julia and William dragged themselves out of bed on Kelly and Pilar’s wedding day, it was almost noon. Achy and bleary-eyed, they refrained from reenacting the previous night’s sexcapades and managed a chaste shower together. Afterward, William ceded the bathroom to Julia. When she finally emerged an hour and a half later, she was not surprised to find him already waiting at the table with his laptop open, probably sneaking in some work.
But she was not prepared for how the sight of him in a suit would stop her in her tracks and make her heart stutter so violently. And when he turned in response to her tiny gasp, he reacted similarly – eyes flying wide-open, fingers frozen over the keyboard.
When he remembered himself, he slowly stood, revealing his full glory to her, and drinking in all of hers.
Not once, in all their time together, had Julia seen him in a suit. Suit-William irrevocably spoiled her for Anything-Else-William. Suit-William blew yesterday’s Rehearsal-Dinner-Esquire-Model-William out of the water.
She had never seen anything as beautiful as this tall, fit man in his tailored black suit, crisp white dress shirt, and royal blue tie. He had trimmed his beard without making it too clean; and the beginnings of his loose dirty-blond curls required no product to look perfectly rakish.
As she leered, William’s eyes devoured her in turn, starting with her loosely-curled hair. She had pinned the right side half-up with a beaded clip, leaving the rest unpinned to sweep over her left shoulder.
From there, his eyes took in her rose lip color, then swept over the silver mermaid pendant he had given her long ago, now glinting against her collarbone.
Finally, his gaze stalled on the new dress she had sewn, just for this occasion.
“Julie...” He let out a shuddering breath as he took in her black sheath dress, with its spaghetti straps, darted bodice, and airy overlay of sheer black tulle. But what made it suitable for a wedding, despite the color, were the spring-like pink roses and green leaves scattered all over the tulle. Julia had embroidered them herself. From there, William’s eyes raked down her legs to the rose-colored strappy sandals that showed off her French pedicure.
His forehead creased with emotion, his eyes fixing on hers with something like gratitude. “I've said it before and I’ll say it again: you are the most beautiful woman on the planet.”
Her heart dissolving into goo, she came forward to slide her hands up his chest. “I’m no Helen of Troy.”
He settled his hands on her hips, leering shamelessly at the way the dress hugged her willowy figure, form-fitting but not excessively so. “Helen of Troy’s got nothing on Julia of the Sunset,” he declared, toying with a lock of her copper hair for emphasis on the Sunset.
Julia beamed. Now that she stood this close, she noticed the subtle neat-motif strewn across the royal blue silk of his tie. She also noticed that he clearly had no idea how to actually tie a tie. She fiddled with it a moment, then redid it altogether.
When she finished, she lifted her eyes to his. Her pulse fluttered at the undisguised adoration she found there. She straightened his collar, then smoothed her hands over his chest again.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?” he said, his voice still raw.
She ran his tie lightly through her hand. “For coming back to me. ”
Since he couldn’t kiss her without messing up her lipstick, he ran his fingertips along the line of her jaw. “I could never stay away.”
It turned out Julia was the person most skilled at pinning on boutonnieres and corsages. That’s how she found herself at the church, performing that exact service for the entire wedding party. Of course, she saved the best for last, pinning William’s boutonniere to his lapel while trading secret smiles with him.
“Have I told you yet how handsome you look?” she whispered finally.
His smile widened further. “Nope.”
“What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Good question.”
She laughed. “You look so incredibly handsome today. Not that you don’t always look handsome; but today?” She gave a chef’s kiss, which he returned with a real kiss on her cheek. Finally, straightening his tie and lapels, she whispered, “Knock ‘em dead, stud-muffin.”
Leaving a flustered William with Kelly and the rest of her attendants, she returned to the vestibule. But there was no more time for mingling, because the wedding was about to start. The weather-beaten sixty-something usher offered his arm with a familiar grin, as if he knew her; and after a moment’s confusion, she blurted, “Uncle Frank!”
“As I live and breathe,” chuckled William’s uncle.
“Oh my God; it’s so good to see you!” gushed Julia. Frank had taken Julia and William out on his fishing boat during their senior year of high school, allowing Julia to interview him about a fading local industry for her school report – while also allowing her and William an opportunity to steal their first kiss.
“How are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.
“Ornery as ever,” Frank confirmed cheerfully. “On my fourth wife now. Nina.”
“I assume you brought her, right?”
“Much to my kids’ chagrin,” he quipped. “They’re all here, too.”
Julia couldn’t help but laugh as he started to escort her to the front pew on Kelly’s s ide. “Well, I can’t wait to meet her. And see all your kids again.”
Since Ann had not taken her seat yet, Julia was surprised to find two people already there. Surprise turned to bewilderment when she recognized one of them as her sister. Sure, Alison had made the wedding cake, but that didn’t exactly entitle her to a front row seat with Kelly’s family. Even Julia had been reluctant to accept their invitation to sit with them, considering how new everything still was between herself and William. Kelly and Ann had to practically browbeat her into accepting.
Julia took in the wraithlike figure beside Alison. His well-worn, too-casual clothing sagged on his frame, as if he had recently lost weight but couldn't afford replacements. For one moment, Julia wondered if Alison had picked up a homeless guy.
Beside Julia, Frank gasped. “Holy shit – Mike? ”
Julia’s confusion turned to shock. Sure, it was partially because Mike had never RSVP’d, so no one had accounted for him in the seating arrangement. But it was mostly because no one who had known Mike before would recognize him now.
Mike Quinn – formerly of the bulky biceps and shredded abs. Plurally-tattooed, lip-licking, lasciviously-grinning haunter of seedy gyms everywhere.
Now, the brittle remains of his dark hair hung in faded wisps over his forehead and sunken temples. His cheeks were hollow; his eyes bugged out of bony sockets. Having recovered somewhat from the initial shock, Julia finally registered the other thing that was missing – the veritable arsenal of piercings that used to adorn his face. He still wore a single silver hoop in one nostril and a single plug in each earlobe, but that was it.
Julia was supposed to be the first into the pew, and then she would scoot over so Ann could sit by the aisle. But since he was here, Mike should be the one sitting beside his mother.
Julia did not want to have to step across him and Alison to get to their seats. “Go around the front,” she whispered to Frank. “I'll sneak in from the side aisle.”
Frank silently complied, his normally-jovial face as sober as a judge; and Julia slid int o the pew, beside Alison. Mike acknowledged both Julia and Frank with a wave and a sheepish half-smile.
Julia leaned into her sister’s ear. “What the hell is going on?”
Alison frowned. “Um... Kelly’s getting married?”
“You know what I mean.”
Slowly, as if Julia were a toddler, Alison explained, “And, um... Mike is Kelly’s brother? So, like... he’s here?”
“And you’re his plus-one.”
“Bingo.”
But now was not the time for further grilling, especially not once the processional music started. She spied Uncle Frank leading Ann to her seat. Clearly even Ann had not expected Mike, because she let out a yelp of surprise, then snatched his hand, unleashing a volley of whispers in his ear. Devastation marred her usually upbeat features. For his part, Mike just looked... embarrassed. Closed off. His shoulders slumped, and he avoided his mother’s worried frown. Gone was the swaggering peacock Julia had known, replaced by this fragile shell of his former self.
But then, a minute later, Julia thought her heart would pound itself right out of her chest as William escorted the maid of honor down the aisle. His eyes flitted to hers, lighting up briefly before darkening when they landed on Mike and Alison. He quickly shifted his focus to Kelly at the front of the church, and Julia followed his lead.
Pilar had gifted Kelly a white linen guayabera with exquisite royal-blue embroidery flanking its front pintucks. Kelly had paired it with a cream-colored blazer, matching slacks, and tan loafers.
Xavier and Zach processed in turn behind William, each escorting a taller, adult bridesmaid, much to the guests’ amusement. After Kelly and Pilar’s final attendants escorted each other down the aisle, the music swelled, and the guests rose in anticipation.
With her parents flanking her on either side, Pilar embodied the definition of “radiant.” She wore her burgundy-dyed hair in Sisterlocks, curled and rolled into a forties-style half-up. A filmy veil floated down her back from a tiara pinned in her hair.
Through the illusion lace against her décolletage, the sweetheart neckline of Pilar’s white dress offered a hint of cleavage. The lace extended to her shoulders, cap sleeves, and halfway down the tulle overlay that drape d her baby bump. A lacy, gauzy cathedral train trailed behind, and she carried a simple bouquet of white roses.
Delfina’s chin quivered, and Sergio was the picture of paternal pride as they escorted their daughter down the aisle. As during the rehearsal, Pilar beamed down the aisle at Kelly; and Julia had never seen Kelly smile so widely. Grinning beside her, William offered his misty-eyed sister a handkerchief and rubbed her arm fondly. Then he caught Julia's eye and held it as they shared a small, secret smile.
Even though she barely knew Kelly and Pilar, Julia found her eyes pricking with tears. She had no idea what these two women had endured to be together, but the love and acceptance their families offered today was beautiful to witness.
Pilar seemed determined to stand through as much of the ceremony as possible, even though it quickly became clear that it would be a long, mostly-traditional Catholic wedding, celebrated alternately in English and Spanish. The Unitarian-Universalist minister must not have cared which denomination’s liturgy they used. Of course, there were times when Pilar and Kelly were supposed to kneel; but Pilar sat instead, with Kelly kneeling alongside her.
During the vows, Julia’s heart turned somersaults when she caught William watching her again. His blue eyes gleamed as he held hers unflinchingly. The corners of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. Warmth blossomed behind Julia's sternum, and the scene before her shifted. It was only a moment – a split second in time. But during that second, their surroundings disappeared, and it was just the two of them, together at a wedding.
Their wedding.
Smiling wider, he slowly blinked. She knew he saw it, too.
And then it was time for him to retrieve the wedding rings from his pocket, and the spell was broken.
With the dances over, the cake cut, and the bouquets and garters dispensed with, it was time to see Kelly and Pilar off to their new life. At last, after saying their goodbyes, William and Julia made their escape. Every nerve ending in Julia’s body vibrated with delicious anticipation as William placed a hand on her lower back, steering her toward his Jeep.
Until a voice called out William’s name, stopping them dead in their tracks.
Julia felt William stiffen and heard him swear under his breath. Just as they both turned, she realized who it was.
Sure enough, Mike cautiously approached on the sidewalk. Alison stood a ways down the sidewalk, illuminated by the corner street lamp, scrolling through her phone.
William stood rigid beside Julia, waiting for Mike to speak. She gestured toward her sister. “I’ll just go–”
“No. Stay.” William stopped her with a hand on her arm, his steely gaze never leaving Mike. “This won’t take long.”
Mike cleared his throat, shuffling on his feet. “Um – hi, Will,” he said quietly, and once again, it struck Julia how unprecedented quiet was for Mike. Then he turned a faint smile on her. “Hi, Julia. Good to see you.”
Before Julia could respond, William barked out, “What do you want, Mike?”
Mike flinched, understandably. William’s sharp tone even took Julia aback.
Mike scratched his nose, unable to meet William’s glare. “Um... I was hoping we could talk privately, but if now’s not a good time–”
“Are you using?”
Mike blinked. “Wh-what?”
“I said are... you... using? ”
The way William snarled the question through clenched teeth made Julia’s stomach quiver. Evidently she had underestimated his anger toward Mike. Maybe even William had.
After a moment to digest his brother’s question, Mike’s face reddened, and a hint of a frown etched his brows. He lifted his hands and took a step or two backward.
“You know what? Forget it.”
Spinning on his heel and shoving his hands into his pockets, he strode back to Alison, who looked up from her phone in shock. Before Julia could see more, William steered her away with a hand on her back .
Julia walked briskly to keep up with his long strides, but she waited until they were safely in his Jeep before speaking. Even then, she held off another minute as he locked the door and draped his forearms over the steering wheel, pressing his forehead into them.
He said, “He’s still using.”
Gently, Julia asked, “Are you sure?”
William sighed. It wasn’t an exasperated sigh; just an exhausted one. Sitting up, looking her in the eye, he explained, “The weight loss, the sores on his face... Trust me when I say I know an active meth user when I see one. Thanks to Jimmy, I learned to be hypervigilant.”
Guilt coiled around Julia’s heart. “I know. I’m sorry.” Reaching over the console, she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “I can see you're still really angry, with both of your brothers.”
William frowned thoughtfully. “I guess you're right.”
She stroked his hair before adding, “You should absolutely keep those healthy boundaries, and also... just don’t forget what you said in your best-man speech. About being a family who loves with fierce loyalty.”
William’s frown slowly unfurled as her words hit home. “’We screw up, we hurt each other, and sometimes we even take a break. But we always come back to love.’” He reached over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, then clasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Yes, I wrote all that. But Julie, it was you I was thinking of when I wrote it. And this is exactly why.”
Julia tilted her head. “ What is?”
Leaning across the center console to clasp her face in both hands, he whispered, “You always guide me back to myself.”
Without waiting for her reply, he captured her mouth with his. With a murmur of surprise, she clasped his face and kissed him right back. Their tongues swept together frantically, their breaths crescendoing until William abruptly broke the kiss.
“You are so fucking gorgeous tonight, Julie,” he said, his voice raw. “I don’t want to talk or think about anyone but you right now. I need to take you home and taste every inch of you.”
“Oh my God, Will,” Julia said with a breathy laugh, her thighs clenching involunt arily. “When you say things like that, I don’t know if I can wait that long.”
“You can and you will,” he ordered, cranking the Jeep’s ignition and throwing it into gear. Casting her a playful sidelong grin, he added, “But only because I can’t lay you out like I want to in here.”
William sped home as fast as traffic and safety would allow. But once he got her inside his apartment, he found the self-control to take his time with her – self-control that had eluded him last night, their first night together in a month.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he bunched the skirt of her dress around her waist, exposing her black lace panties; then tugged her into his lap, straddling him. They shared lazy, sensuous kisses as she relieved him of his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. He reached behind her, found the top of her zipper, and slowly dragged it down her spine. With his palms, he swept the spaghetti straps from her shoulders, then peeled the bodice down her torso, revealing her strapless black lace bra. He broke their kiss long enough to admire the view, then looked into her eyes, his forehead furrowing with raw emotion.
“You are everything ,” he rasped out.
Heat bloomed red over her skin. Her eyes drifted shut, and she tipped her head back with a murmur of longing. He responded by pressing warm, wet kisses to her throat. She had forgotten how to breathe, or even move. She could only savor the way every nerve ending answered his touch with a shower of sparks.
As his lips traveled to her collarbone, he tugged at the clasp of her bra. It was a sturdy contraption with three hooks, so she reached behind herself to assist, popping it open. Tunneling beneath the cups, he scooped her breasts into his warm palms, sending the bra tumbling to the mattress.
The hands gripping her trembled with restraint as he leaned forward, flicking his tongue first to one nipple, then the other. Sucking them into his mouth, lavishing equal attention on both.
“Your nipples are my favorite things to put in my mouth,” he said after, his breath hot against her skin. Then, putting his lips to her ear, he whispered, “Besides your clit, I mean.”
She unleashed a ragged moan, grinding like a feral thing against the impressive bulge in his pants, making him hiss with pleasure. Still, he took his time undressing her the rest of the way, almost reverent with each new part of her body he uncovered. Laying her down on the mattress, he seized her dress, still bunched around her waist, and tugged it down her legs, discarding it on the floor.
When his fingertips hooked into the waistband of her panties, she shuddered in anticipation. And then he was inching them down, his eyes riveted between her thighs where she ached almost painfully. He made her feel powerful and sexy, his pupils blown wide as they drank in the evidence of her desire.
Grasping her knees, he gently pried them wider, his heated stare still fixed between her legs. Then he crawled backward off the bed and simply stood at its foot, raking his eyes across her naked, exposed body. He bit his clenched fist, his gaze tinged with awe and disbelief. His suit trousers were utterly useless to conceal the massive erection straining against them.
Nearly all the blood had vacated her brain, but she cobbled together two brain cells and pretended to pout. “No fair. I only got your shirt halfway undone.”
Laughing softly, he answered her with a maddeningly slow striptease. At last, he stood there like a well-endowed Michelangelo sculpture in the flesh, his arousal on full display.
“I want to touch you,” she whispered, sitting up, reaching for him.
But he crawled over her and gently urged her back down. “Soon,” he promised, kissing her lips, “but first, please let me be selfish. My mouth has been watering ever since you came out of my bathroom wearing that dress. I can’t wait another second.”
His words alone had her arching up off the bed. She couldn’t fathom how her body would react once he followed through on his promise. “Please do it, Will.”
As he kissed his way down her stomach, she drew a sharp breath through her teeth – a hiss of anticipation. His hands swept along her curves, lifting he r body to his lips. She trembled as he knelt between her legs, his eyes locking on hers.
With the first swipe of his tongue, her legs quaked violently. To her astonishment, she was already on the razor-sharp edge of an orgasm, shouting as stars gathered behind her pupils.
But just as quickly as he got her there, he ripped the proverbial rug out from underneath her, denying her the sweet relief she chased.
The sadist actually had the nerve to grin up at her as she panted, writhed, and cursed him. When her explosion was no longer imminent, he dove in again – sucking and nibbling, licking and feathering. Dipping, swirling, and tapping. Careening her right back to the edge before once again pulling up short with a smirk. She lost track of time as he repeated this dance over and over, leaving her sweating, writhing, and pleading for release.
And all of that was before he even added his fingers.
When he finally did, her raucous orgasm snatched her right from this plane of existence, wrenching her body inside-out. Powerless to stifle the shrieks tearing out of her, she thrashed in the wake of each tsunami of pleasure.
When the last wave finally ebbed, leaving her a whimpering puddle, she couldn’t even open her eyes. She grew heavy, sinking into the mattress, while at the same time lighter than air, floating up to the ceiling. Never in all her thirty-six years of life had she experienced a more powerful, transcendent, life-altering orgasm.
She wanted him to give her that every day, in their shared bed. In their shared home.
Every. Single. Day.
The epiphany hit her like a clap of thunder. But before she had time to process it, he was climbing up her body again, his heavy-lidded gaze dark with need.
Still, he was in no rush, settling alongside her and turning her so they faced each other on their sides. His relentless erection prodded her thighs as they shared languid kisses, their hands roaming each other. Finally, she reached between them, wrapping her hand around him, and his resounding groan broke their kiss.
Slinging her leg over his hip, she opened herself to him again, caressing the most sensitive part of herself with his tip. His unrestrained grunts and moans told of his own pleasure, rocketing her within seconds to another orgasm.
He was shaking now – positively vibrating with need. She nudged his chest, rolling him onto his back, throwing her other leg over to straddle him. He was an absolute vision beneath her, his blue irises eclipsed in pools of black, his short curls wild from her fingers. A sheen of sweat set the tattoos on his arms aglow and highlighted his beautifully carved chest as she raked her fingernails through the hair there. He put one hand on her hip. With the other, he reached between their bodies, guiding himself to her.
“I’m going to marry you, Julie,” he gritted out, his voice hoarse with longing.
“I’m going to let you,” she murmured, sinking down onto him. Sharing his pleasure, compounding it, and making it more than the sum of their two bodies.