Mary eyed the knee-length, mint green dress with suspicion and deepest loathing. It was strapless and fitted from chest to hip before flaring out into a silky skirt which meant she would be wearing a bustier beneath it and since she hadn't tanned since twelfth grade and her dress was knee length she would be pairing the too-tight to breathe bustier with a garter belt and thigh high stockings. She was in hell.
Marshall re-tied his bow tie three times before he got it just right. He fastened a mint green cummerbund in place and finished the look with a well cut black jacket and smiled at his reflection in the full length mirror.
The hotel ballroom was lavishly decorated in shades of baby pink, mint green and snowy white. Ninety-seven chairs circled fourteen cloth covered tables, each with a bowl of roses at its center. A jazz quartet warmed up on a low stage in front of a wooden dance floor. In the hotel kitchens three cooks and a dozen wait staff prepared roast beef and chicken parmesan and prepared trays of champagne and hor d'oeuvres.
No expense was being spared. Everything would be perfect.
In a traditional, stone and stained glass church three blocks away Mary Shannon hugged her sister tightly. "Congratulations Squish."
"You're going to make me cry." Brandi fanned her eyes in an attempt to keep her mascara from running.
Jinx had wisely forgone mascara. Which was the only reason she didn't have raccoon eyes. She'd been crying since breakfast.
Mary on the other hand was completely dry eyed as she handed out tissues like candy and avoided looking in the mirror. If it weren't for the restrictive undergarments and hideous dress she might even have been mistakenly called giddy. That is if the person calling her giddy was three states away and wearing full body Kevlar.
At three minutes after one the ushers pushed open the double doors to the sanctuary and one by one Brandi's three bridesmaids walked sedately down the aisle. Mary, the maid of honour, was the last to step out.
She kept a smile on her face as she walked at the achingly slow pace of a proper maid of honour. She scanned the crowd, taking in the smiling faces of several dozen strangers before her eyes stopped at the front of the church. Marshall Mann stood two men to the left of the groom, his hands resting relaxed at his sides, his blue eyes fixed on Mary's face and a half smile curling the corners of his lips. Mary faltered in her walk but recovered quickly. It should be illegal for a man to look that sexy in a church.
The string quartet changed from the soothing sounds of Mozart to the familiar chords or the wedding march. Everyone turned to the back as Brandi and Jinx stepped into view. Jinx had managed to quell her tears and beamed from her daughter's side. Brandi looked stunning in the floor length drop waist, strapless ball gown.
Mary watched her sister with a mixture of pride and anxiety. Peter was a great guy, Mary liked him a million times more than any of the other men Brandi had brought home over the years, but marriage after a year of dating seemed hasty and Mary couldn't shake off her good friends paranoia and distrust.
As her sister stepped up to stand across from her fiancé and Jinx took her seat in the front row Mary's gaze returned to her partner. She wasn't blind, she'd always known Marshall was a beautiful man, but she'd known it in the way a sister knows her brother is a stud. He was her best, only, friend and she had loved him in her own way for years, but today something was different.
It might have been the fact that she was about to give responsibility for her sister's care to someone else for good, or the fact that Jinx had been successfully in her own and sober for eight months, or the drastic contrast between Marshall's sharp featured good looks and Peter's cousin's beer belly and handlebar moustache... But something had definitely changed. And now that it had Mary wasn't entirely sure what to do about the warmth pooled in her belly or the slight stutter of her pulse when he winked at her before turning his attention to the happy couple.
The ceremony passed in a blur, Mary managed to move at the right times, handing Brandi the ring for Peter, signing her name as witness on the contract, but she did so without thought. Her mind was caught in a closed circuit loop, replaying Marshall's blue eyes, half smile and perfectly fitted tuxedo. Somehow her geek of a partner had become a vision in black, white and mint green, if she'd bothered to have anything to eat or drink today she might have suspected drugging.
The priest announced the new couple and the wedding party filed out of the church in pairs. Mary didn't see Marshall again until they were crammed like sardines into the town car that would take them to the Rio Grande Botanical Gardens for pictures before finally letting them out at Hyatt Regency Albuquerque for the reception.
Mary had been in the Hyatt Regency once before, two months earlier with Brandi and Peter when they came to test the food and view the three different options for the reception hall. In the end Brandi had fallen in love with the Franciscan ballroom and even Mary couldn't find fault with the food. Today, decked out in wedding white with a small bouquet of pink roses on every one of the round tables, it was breathtaking. The guests applauded and Peter and Brandi made their entrance and the wedding party took their seats along the head table. At Mary's insistence, she and Marshall were side by side at one end of the head table. She anticipated a long, boring night and she wanted to be as close to the exit and the bar as possible.
Half an hour later the toasts were completed and the catering staff began bringing out steaming plates of food and Mary was finally able to talk to her partner without the entire wedding party looking on. She'd seen the looks the other bridesmaids were casting in Marshall's direction, like he was the last piece of chocolate cake and they hadn't eaten in weeks. Although judging from the size of their waists, that last part might be true. Either way, she was glad to have several people between Marshall and the piranhas.
She eyed her plate dismally. It was still half full of perfectly pink roast beef, creamy potatoes and surprisingly delicious asparagus, and she couldn't bring herself to eat another bite. "Damn corset" she snarled, picking up a mouth watering forkful and then setting it back down.
Marshall raised one eyebrow. "Corset?"
"Yes, pervis." Mary flushed and looked down at her plate. Smooth moves Shannon.
Marshall stabbed an asparagus spear with his fork and ate it. "Delicious," he announced, reaching for another.
Mary slapped his hand. "Eat your own damn food."
"I already did." Marshall gestured to his empty plate.
There were days Mary wondered how he didn't weigh 200 pounds. The man could pack away enough food for ten men some days. Of course she was usually right there with him. Damn tight, strapless dress. Damn corset that made breathing difficult, forget devouring food. "Fine." Mary pushed her plate towards her partner.
"You ok?" Marshall asked, fork hovering like an expectant bird over her plate.
"I'll be better when they open the bar," Mary said with a grin. In deference to Peter, dinner was served without Alcohol. Mary was counting the seconds until dinner was completed and she could indulge in several ounces of Tequila at the cash bar.
Anything Marshall might have said in response was cut off by a chorus of clinking glasses. The newlyweds obliged their guests with a kiss and the wait staff took that moment as their cue to begin clearing away the remnants of dinner. On the stage the band began to assemble. Mary was out of her seat so quickly she almost knocked it over, but her progress to the bar was cut off by Marshall's hand on her arm.
"What?" She glared down at her partner.
"Easy on the tequila, you're going to want to remember this night." His expression was unreadable, his voice low and gravely.
Mary cursed the butterflies in her stomach that took flight in response. Brandi's wedding, she reminded herself sharply, that was the only memorable event he was referring to. "I always remember." She said with a quick smile.
Several shots of tequila, a first dance and a wedding cake ritual later Mary found herself alone at the head table, watching her partner dance with some redhead friend of Brandi's. He was surprisingly good on his feet, clearly the mambo lessons he'd taken all those years ago had paid off. The redhead looked like she'd won the lottery, smile stretched from are to ear, eyes attempting to devour Marshall whole.
After seven years together Mary should have been used to women hitting on Marshall. He was an attractive, intelligent man and a lawman to boot, but she'd never managed to feel anything but contempt for the many women who threw themselves shamelessly, and ultimately unsuccessfully, at him. It wasn't until today, lulled by lack of oxygen, sudden freedom and good tequila into a sense of peaceful, honest contemplation, that she realized why. Idiot.
Abandoning her last shot of tequila and her uncomfortable shoes at the table, Mary made her way to the dance floor.
She reached them as the music changed from an upbeat jazz number to a waltz. "Mind if I cut in?" She asked, fixing the redhead with a look that promised pain if she refused.
The redhead glared back, but only for a moment before stepping back, "Nice to meet you, Marshall." She said, giving him her best flirtatious smile. "Call me."
Marshall held out a hand and Mary slid hers into it. As she settled one hand on his shoulder and he settled his on the small of her back, Mary tilted her head so she could look him straight on. "If you step on my toes I will shoot you."
Marshall chuckled and pulled her closer. "Maybe you should just stand on my feet. Keep both of us safe."
"What am I five?"
"No, you're at least an eight and a half."
Mary swatted him on the back of the head.
He responded by pulling her closer and wrapping both arms around her waist. They barely moved, swaying in time with the music. Mary rested her head against his shoulder and toyed idly with the hair at the back of his neck. Marshall's thumb tracing slow circles on the bare skin above her dress.
They stayed that way, not talking, not needing to, until the band took a break and upbeat, recorded music took over. Mary stepped back slowly, reluctant to leave the comforting circle of his arms. When she met his eyes they were impossibly dark. "Drink?" she asked, her voice foreign to her ears.
He nodded.
They walked close together and Mary allowed him to steer her through the crowds with one hand on her back. When they reached the bar she ordered for both of them, because even with butterflies in her stomach she was still Mary. Mary, and carried her own drink back to their table.
Marshall sat beside her and for the first time in years the silence between them felt awkward. Mary sipped her tequila sunrise slowly and watched Brandi, Peter and a few dozen stranger dance the Macarena. She should have been making fun of it all, that was usually her role at these events, the sarcastic observer with Marshall, the voice of reason, ever at her side, but she was drawing a blank.
Marshall shifted beside her, his leg brushing hers under the table as he shrugged out of his jacket. Mary shivered at the contact and Marshall slid his coat around her shoulders.
Not bothering to correct him, Mary pulled the jacket tightly around her already warm shoulders. The scent of Marshall filled her nostrils and the butterflies in her stomach turned somersaults.
Brandi and Peter made their exit at 10 and the reception dwindled quickly from there. Soon there were just a few couples on the once crowded dance floor. Mary and Marshall among them, his jacket still draped over her shoulders despite the heat in the room.
When the band packed up at 11 and the rest of the guests made their way home, Mary took Marshall's hand and without saying a word led him to the elevators.
Marshall paused on the threshold when Mary stepped into the elevator. "Mary," it was a question, and a warning.
Mary smiled and tugged at his hand. "Marshall," an invitation.
His lips were on hers before the elevator doors closed. Soft and tentative at first but in seconds he had one hand in her hair and the other on her hip, holding her close. Mary clung to his shoulders, breathless and light headed. He tasted like scotch. Smooth, and peaty, and completely delicious. Why didn't we do this years ago?
The elevator doors slid open on thirteen with a ding. Marshall released her and took a step back. His face was flushed and Mary could see her own reflection in his dilated pupils. She fumbled the keys three times before finally managing to unlock her room. Marshall's hot mouth on the nape of her neck didn't help her concentration.
By the time they reached the bedroom Mary's much hated green bridesmaid dress was in a crumpled heap on the floor along with Marshall's jacket, tie and cummerbund and Mary had managed to free most of the buttons on his shirt in one swift tug. They fell onto the bed in a tangled mess of limbs attached at the lips.
Marshall moved slowly down Mary's body, running his hands over her satin corset, teasing the patch of bare skin between it and her panties with his tongue and teeth before moving down to the garter straps at her thigh. With fingers that trembled just a little he freed the clasps holding her thigh highs in place. Slowly, lips following fingers, he rolled one nylon off and dropped it on the floor. Mary squirmed restlessly as he moved to remove the second nylon. She could feel his smile against her skin as he sucked and nipped his way down to her ankle. "Jesus, Marshall," She moaned.
He hooked two fingers in her panties and slid them off as well. The cool air on her skin did nothing to lessen the wet heat between her legs and Mary spread her legs almost involuntarily in invitation.
Marshall ran one finger down her center, pressing just hard enough on her clit to cause Mary to arch towards him in a desperate attempt to satisfy her own throbbing need. He chuckled and she used both hands to pull him down into a punishing kiss. Her teeth nipped at his lip and her hands dug into his scalp eliciting a groan as he settled himself over her. Too many clothes.
With surprising strength, Mary flipped them over so she was over top of her partner and straddled his hips. He didn't object. Instead he grasped her firmly by the hips and ground her against his erection. Even with his boxers and dress pants between them she could feel his heat.
Mary made quick work of his fly and pushed his dress pants down to expose plain black silk boxers tented by his rock hard cock. She removed the boxers in short order and wrapped one hand around him. The skin was smooth and silky beneath her fingers and Marshall's gasp of arousal caused a flood of wetness between her legs.
Mary repositioned herself over him so she was straddling his abs, his cock pressing against her ass and slowly, one hook as a time, removed her corset.
Marshall watched her, slack faced with desire. He reached one thumb between their bodies, dragging the work-roughed pad across her clit. She bucked against him as her corset fell away.
"Condom?" She gasped.
"Wallet." He replied, breathless.
Mary slid to the floor and fumbled for his wallet. She found the condom and tore the wrapper open. With practiced hands she rolled it over his length. Both hands on her hips, Marshall guided Mary until she was hovering over his erection. She locked eyes with him and dropped down, taking his entire length into her body in one swift motion.
For a few seconds they were both still, Mary lost in the feeling of him inside her and the fathomless depths of his blue-black eyes. Then they began to move. Slowly at first, Mary pulling almost free before thrusting down again, until Marshall flipped them over and took control of the pace. He pounded into her, hard and fast, erratic and perfect.
Mary clung to him, digging her fingers into his shoulders and met each thrust until she came with a scream of pleasure. Marshall followed with a shuddering cry and collapsed beside her. When he had disposed of the condom, Marshall climbed into bed beside her and pulled her against his chest.
In the morning there would be discussion, It was inevitable, Marshall is such a girl. But for that night there was no outside world. Mary settled her head against Marshall's chest and let the steady thump-thump of his heart lull her to sleep.