“This is nuts. All these wedding chapels look alike,” Anna Marie groused, watching the little red arrow directing them down their path on the rented Navigator’s GPS system.
“Hey, there’s Elvis,” Ali grinned, bouncing up and down in her seat.
“Bet we’ll see a few,” Betsy chuckled. “I always wondered if Vegas was as ostentatious as it looks on TV.”
“And?” Anna Marie craned her neck around toward the rear seat, her green eyes twinkling.
“I feel the urge to hump the stripper pole like Elizabeth Berkeley, just because I can.”
“That’ll make a great wedding photo,” Ali snickered.
“It feels weird, not being a bridesmaid,” Emma murmured. “Ororo never said she wanted a small wedding.”
“She never made a big fuss about heirloom lace, either. Did ya’ll get the keep-the-date magnets she sent out?”
“Mine’s on the fridge. The picture was cute!”
“Logan’s so short,” Betsy mused. “But they just fit, somehow.”
“She’s radiant,” Ali gushed. “Man, this is gonna be good. Can’t wait to party!”
“I can’t wait to see the temple they picked,” Anna Marie agreed.
“What time are the guys getting there?” Lorna inquired.
“They said they’d probably beat us there. Remy drives like a maniac,” Anna Marie muttered.
“Everybody does out here.” Ali guided the car carefully through mid-morning traffic. “And again, you’ve gotta love a city that has slot machines at the airport.”
“One more spin, and I would’ve broken even,” Anna mourned.
~0~
Sage gave Piotr’s tie one more tug before smoothing out his lapels with her palms. “Perfect,” she pronounced. “You look good enough to eat.”
“Promise?” He looped his arms around her waist and kissed her deeply, not caring that they were in an open foyer at the chapel.
“Knock it off! It ain’t yer turn today, bub!” Logan growled, looking up from where he was pacing by the altar, wiping his sweaty palms on his slacks.
“Somebody’s gettin’ impatient, non?” Remy drawled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Take it easy, mec. S’gonna go off wi’ dout so much as a hitch, y’hear?”
“You ain’t the one waiting,” he grumbled, but he spared him a half-smile as he sat back on the pew. He was back up thirty seconds later, pacing again. Remy chuckled.
“You’re worse than I am,” Scott nagged good-naturedly.
“Bullshit,” Logan shot back, then covered his mouth haplessly, remembering he was in a chapel, wondering if the same rules applied. “No one was more uptight than you on yer wedding day, Scooter.”
“Anyone would’ve been in my shoes. Saying ‘I do’ was the easy part. The two years of planning, stewing, indecision, insanity and holding myself back from stabbing out my eyeballs with a letter opener whenever Jean mentioned ‘centerpieces’ was hard. No, scratch that “ brutal.”
“That’s m’own definition of hell,” Remy shuddered.
“Yer next.”
“Yer a bunch of flamin’ pussies,” Vic sighed, grinning and dangling his hands between his knees. His long legs wouldn’t fit behind any of the rear pews, so he sat up front with his date clinging to his arm, looking every inch the showgirl in her skimpy red dress and flamboyant eye makeup. He introduced her as Leni Zauber, a Miss Universe contestant who won First Runner-Up. Aliyah stood nearby, poking at an arrangement of silk flowers on the altar before Sage admonished her quietly to stop. She retreated to Piotr’s lap and snuggled close, playing with his cufflinks. Sage straightened the band of ribbons and daisies she’d adorned her pile of moppet curls with and laid her hand on Piotr’s knee. Logan entertained himself by taking potshots at Vic and periodically making Boogey Man faces at Aliyah just to hear her squeal and cower into Piotr’s shirt front, giggling behind her hand.
Scott checked his watch, noticing they had fifteen more minutes before the minister arrived. He’d introduced himself to them, a lean, plain-looking man with dark hair and unremarkable features, but he had a garment bag draped over his arm as he had them sign in. He had disappeared briefly behind the curtain, leaving Logan to brood and pace.
Scott made himself comfortable on the cushioned pew and fiddled with a guest card, doodling on it with th stub of pencil in the slot. He chuckled to himself, wondering how he got where he was at that moment, but mulling that it felt right.
If anyone told him two weeks ago that he’d be showing up at a quickie wedding so soon after the dissolution of his own marriage, when he was in the middle of a divorce that made a root canal look like it tickled, he would have told them to stay out of the Schnapps. Ali had a lot to do with it.
~0~
“I can’t move my legs,” Scott groaned, running his fingers through Ali’s tousled hair as she stretched herself along his side, plastering her body to his in sated bliss. He was exhausted, and he couldn’t wipe the bleary smile off his face. She drew little pictures against his chest with her fingertip, retracing the same little heart over and over until he clasped her hand to make her stop.
“Then don’t try,” she advised. Her voice was husky and rich as they lounged in his bed in the dark, their bodies faintly illuminated by the moonlight pouring in through the window.
“Sounds like a plan.” Her skin was satiny, begging his touch. He couldn’t stop caressing her. His lips feathered her hairline, and she peered up at him, kissing his lips, sighing with contentment. The faint flavor of Tanqueray still lingered on him, but she didn’t mind.
They’d managed to make it out of Harry’s, and ducked into a small pizza parlor for a quick slice, carrying them outside and devouring them despite nearly volcanic melted cheese and sauce. Ali complained that she burnt her tongue.
“Poor baby,” Scott crooned, and he kissed it better, evoking a moan of thanks and restless tugs on his shirt. She forgot about the raw chafe of the burn as he sucked her lip into his mouth. Ali had ridden with Betsy in Emma’s car, and she didn’t protest when Scott offered his apartment. They caught a cab and merely leaned into each other, Ali half-sprawled over his lap as he kneaded her neck, not wanting to give their driver a free show.
Their strides up his front stairs were quick and sharp. Scott mauled her, backing her against the door of his apartment and kissing her long and hard as he fumbled for his keys. Her hands crept beneath his shirt, stroking his smooth abdomen and making it tremble beneath her touch.
They got inside “ finally! “ and stumbled their way through the Spartan living room. Their lips and bodies met in a hungry, frantic fusion, and they landed against the rear wall, nearly knocking over Scott’s floor lamp as he claimed her mouth, trailing kisses down her cheek and jaw. His tongue swirled and wreaked havoc along her neck, and she clutched at his hair, clawing his shirt out from his waistband.
He was beautiful, even in the dark. His silhouette was lean and tapered, just as she imagined him to be when she saw him in the snug shirt and jeans. His broad shoulders invited her hands to stroke him and twine her arms around his neck as he began to undress her.
“God, Ali,” he rasped in her ear, licking the shell and making her quiver. She moaned even louder when he suckled the tender lobe. Two pairs of jeans hit the floor with a thud, and they nearly stumbled out of their shoes. Scott hauled her flush against him, grinding his pelvis against hers wantonly, determined to get closer, deeper…more. He hooked his hands behind her knees and wrapped her legs around his waist, carrying her to his bedroom down the hall. Her steamy kisses landed on his face in the dark, and he made short work of their respective underthings as she sprawled back onto the sheets.
“Scott,” she breathed, stroking him with her hands, tongue, lips and teeth, repeating his name as he thrust into her, rocking in and out in an irresistible rhythm, wanting to climb inside of her. She was slick and hot, wrapped around him like silk, and she squeezed him, convulsing around him with the glory of him filling her. All thoughts of Jean flew out the window as she sang a different song this time, one of want and need. Her cries filled the darkened room, music to his ears. They didn’t talk. They communicated with touch and hearing each other moan and gasp, their bodies straining together in near-perfect sync. Ali’s first climax nearly undid him. Before she could catch her breath, he grasped her ankles and flipped her to her stomach, kissing a blazing path down her back, licking wicked circles over each rounded, supple cheek of her ass. She gripped the covers in her fists and moaned as his plump head probed her moist heat and entered her again. Her mouth dropped open as he continued his assault on her senses, jerking her hips to meet him. Her nipples were abraded by the tangled covers beneath her, and her body tingled as she began to once again reach her peak. He was swollen, turgid and straining within her for release, and she reveled in his hoarse shout when he reached his pleasure, spasming and tightening his grip on her, never wanting to let her go. They collapsed and spooned together as she wiggled her backside into him instinctively. His kisses on her nape were one of the last things she remembered before she drifted off to sleep.
She’d dozed an hour before she felt him stirring to life again against her rump. She faced him, easing back into his arms and rolling on top of him, taking her time exploring his body and tracing his features with her lips. Not a single inch of his body escaped her scrutiny. She kissed an old appendix scar across his belly and laved a tiny birthmark on his thigh with her tongue, making him balk that it tickled. Ali fought back the urge to kick herself when this was over.
There was no way this would lead to anything else. She wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. She took him again, reveling in the blissful groans that issued from his throat as he came, the fact that she caused his reaction powerful, heady and addicting.
She didn’t want to speak. There was little she could say that wouldn’t break the spell.
“I’m working NOC shift tomorrow,” he murmured. “I’d like to take you out to lunch before I go in.” She snuggled more deeply into his chest as her breathing began to match pace with his. She purred happily in agreement.
“I’d like that.”
“This is nuts.” She leaned up and peered down at him, noting the quizzical look in his eye. He traced her lips lazily with his fingertip. “I didn’t expect this.”
“I danced at your wedding. Badly, as I recall. You don’t have to tell me twice, Scott.”
“You weren’t that bad,” he smirked, shifting her against him and stroking her back. She framed his face between her palms and kissed him sweetly, realizing how habit-forming it had become.
“Hey. It’s called an open bar, Summers. Give a girl some slack.”
“I’m not even that mad anymore,” Scott mused. “Well, I’m mad, but for different reasons.”
“You loved her.”
“And I trusted her. I trusted ‘Tro, too. It’s just that…”
“Scott, you were the best thing that ever happened to her.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
“Her problem. You’re an amazing man, Scott Summers.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” He cradled her tenderly, nuzzling the top of her head. “You were great tonight.”
“Thanks.”
“Really, really great.”
“Thank you.” She beamed.
“What’d Jean say when you followed her?”
Ali held her breath, then exhaled it on a sigh. “She’s pregnant.” She heard Scott’s breath catch in his chest. “And then she told me to fuck off.” His hand paused mid-stroke, and she peered up at him again. “You probably didn’t need to hear that.”
“Are you kidding?” He shook his head, grinning. Then he began to laugh. Ali stared at him as though he was demented.
“Right. She tells me to fuck off, and he starts busting a gut.”
“Heh. Sorry.” She collapsed against him again, covering them with the blankets, and he smothered another snort. “I was wondering why she looked so green around the gills.”
“Don’t hold back, say how you really feel.”
“I just feel like I dodged a bullet.” Ali felt a quiver of panic in her gut.
“…oh.”
“We wanted to have kids eventually. Don’t get me wrong.” Ali felt some of the tension ease. “But if she’d gotten pregnant with me, with my child while she was running around and keeping secrets…imagine the train wreck.”
“Better yet,” she murmured, “let’s not.”
“Okay,” Scott agreed. His eyelids were heavy. “That’s not how you start a family. Or a marriage.”
“Speaking of which…Scott, Logan and ‘Ro are tying the knot.”
Silence.
“She invited me to the wedding. They’re flying out to Vegas.”
“How nice for them.” His tone was resigned.
“She doesn’t have anyone to give her away.”
More silence.
Then…
“…I’ll call Logan in the morning.” Ali smiled in the dark.
~0~
Scott stirred from his musings when multiple sets of high heels clattered into the chapel. Betsy trotted inside, her face flushed.
“We’ve only got the chapel for a half an hour,” Logan griped. “Ya look nice,” he amended.
“Still grumpy,” Anna Marie muttered to Ali.
“Let’s go check on the bride.” Scott caught her eye and winked. “One sec.” She broke away from Anna and strolled to his pew. She shucked her jacket and laid it on top of his.
“You’re late,” he chided her, even though his eyes traveled over her flouncy chiffon dress that revealed her tanned, lithe legs and skimmed over her curves.
“I’m worth the wait, right?” She bent down and stole a kiss, grinning at him as she wiped a smudge of her lipstick from the corner of his mouth. He pretended to take a bite out of her hand before releasing her.
“We’ve got a bride to marry off, Al!” Anna hissed. They tottered off to the bride’s changing suite and rapped on the door.
“Can we come in, shoog?”
“Give me a minute,” she carped from behind the door.
“She sounds stressed,” Ali observed.
“Bet she’s about ta burst,” Anna giggled.
“Okay,” Ororo called out. “Come on in.” She steadied herself and turned away from the vanity just as they let themselves in. Their mouths dropped open in awe, and Ali’s eyes instantly welled up.
“Oh, ‘Ro…” She fanned herself, only making her eyes glisten with more tears. “You look SO beautiful!”
“Yer gonna knock his eyes out, sugah, that’s fer sure.” She grabbed a generous handful of tissues from the box and handed one to Ali, who impatiently held out her hand for another as she dabbed her cheeks.
“I’m shaking. Look at me, I’m shaking!” Anna gripped her hands fondly.
“Yer man got all dolled up for ya, kiddo. Looks pretty damned gorgeous. Remy only had ta knot his tie three times before he was happy with it.” She circled Ororo and fluffed her veil. Ororo giggled nervously before she wrung her hands.
“I’m going to be Mrs. James Logan Howlett,” she breathed.
“And he’s gonna be the happiest man on earth. And if he’s not, I’ve got a rolling pin and some brass knuckles wrapped up as a wedding gift that says otherwise.” Ali breathed deeply, turning off the waterworks.
“That’s why I love you,” Ororo beamed, her own eyes beginning to mist as she hugged them tightly.
“I’ll get Scott.” Ali departed first. Anna straightened her dress in the mirror, the jade twin to Ali’s. Anna let him in when he knocked. His smile nearly made her lose it.
“I almost don’t want to give you away! You clean up nice!”
“Ali’s rubbing off on you,” Ororo observed.
“She’s contagious,” he grinned, the look on his face almost sappy.
“Don’t breathe on me!” She threaded her hand through the crook of his arm. Anna preceded them out the door and stood at the back of the chapel, waiting.
“Wait for it,” she murmured restlessly. Three endless minutes ticked by as Ororo fidgeted. Scott squeezed her hand.
Inside the chapel, Logan stood stiffly, fighting the urge to tug his tie lopsided and give himself some air. The air inside the snug little annex felt charged with nervous energy, engulfing him as he waited for the woman he planned on spending the next fifty years with, hoping, praying, BEGGING that it wasn’t a practical joke. That God wasn’t planning on pointing down at him and yelling “PSYCHE!” That he and ‘Ro wouldn’t hit another roadblock…
“Look alive, runt,” Vic murmured. Remy laid a steadying hand on his shoulder, even though Logan straightened his posture even further, puffing out his chest. He wasn’t demonstrative, he thought.
“It’s go time, mon frere,” Remy reminded him.
“Ain’t like I’m gonna fall apart an’ start cryin’ like they do on the TV, bub,” he huffed back, but his stomach was full of butterflies.
The opening strains of “Love Me Tender” floated to the back of the chapel, and Ororo took a deep breath, tightening her grip on the silk bouquet as her feet moved of their own volition down the ornate, red and gold tapestried aisle runner. All eyes were on her as she made her way toward the altar, her gaze pinned distracted initially by the most flamboyant Elvis impersonator she had ever seen. White jumpsuited, glittering Elvis, star-spangled cape and all, sideburns gleaming and topped with a fluffy pompadour. He performed a hip shimmy and broadly gestured her and Scott forward. He raised his hands, beckoning to the tiny gathering to stand. Ali, Anna Marie and Lorna aimed disposable cameras and snapped pictures madly while Betsy caught footage with a digital camcorder.
“We are gathered today to witness joining of this lovely, lovely lady to this hunka-hunka burnin’ love right here,” crooned the King, reaching for the missal as Ororo made her way to join Logan, smiling at the pretty picture she made.
Remy without even staring at Logan’s face, Remy reached out to steady him as his knees momentarily buckled, and muttered “S’alright, mec. Just breathe.” He heard Logan’s choked cry and a ragged sniffle and chuckled under his breath.
“Not gonna cry, my ass!” Vic snickered, before Leni elbowed him sharply to stop. He leaned over and nuzzled her wolfishly behind the ear, enjoying the spectacle of one of his oldest friends stumbling headlong out of his bachelor days and too many late nights.
“Hi, baby,” Ororo whispered, her voice catching in her throat. He stood tall and elegant in his white tie and crisply tailored black tux, Stacy Adams shoes gleaming, looking so handsome her heart clenched.
“Leggo of her, Summers, I can take it from here,” he rasped, and Scott pecked Ororo chastely on the cheek, stepping aside to let her switch hands with her bouquet and go to Logan. “Hey, darlin’.” He could hardly speak. His hand gripped hers firmly, and she finally breathed deeply, releasing a fist-sized knot of tension nesting in her chest, suddenly flush with heady excitement of what was to come. This was the beginning of something special with someone she was born to love.
And he was currently sniffling up a storm, making the backs of her eyes prickle. She reached up with her lace-gloved hand to mop at his cheeks. She was radiant, filling him with pride, eclipsing everything and everyone surrounding them. Despite the camp simplicity of their ceremony, Ororo had chosen a gown that her friends would comment on and remember for years to come, a white silk shantung princess-cut gown with a full-length, bustled skirt that swept up in cascading puffs, overlaid with sheer, iridescent chiffon. The train and sweetheart neckline were richly appliquéd, the off-the-shoulder bodice trimmed in tiny pearls and white sequins that winked and caught the light of the myriad candles and ambient lighting. Her ivory hair was gently pulled back from her face and trailing down her neck in abundant curls, competing with her gown for onlookers’ attention, and her veil was a floating confection of pearls and miles-long tulle.
“Any man in the world’d give anything to be standin’ in your blue suede shoes right now, my friend,” the King drawled, and snorting laughter stirred among the pews. “The lovely bride requested a poem for me to read to ya’ll today that sums up the love these two share so beautifully…shucks, just let me go ahead and read it, we’re on a clock!” He cleared his throat and read from a folded sheet of paper that he extracted from the pocket of his jumpsuit:
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.
Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
During the reading, several tissues came out to wipe wet eyes as Logan and Ororo faced each other, hands clasped tightly as Anna held Ororo’s bouquet, sniffling as she watched the proceedings.
“It’s true what they say, now, that some fools rush in when it comes to love. Logan and Ororo, you’ve come together today to demonstrate how that thing called love’s supposed to be done. Wholeheartedly, tenderly, and forever more.” He nodded to Remy, peering at him over the edge of his dark glasses. “Ya got the ring, Guitar Man?” Remy grinned, whipping them out of his pocket with a flourish. “Thank ya. Thank ya very much…” Ali dissolved into giggles.
“We all need that special somebody that keeps us from feelin’ lonesome tonight. It’s that one lady or that one dude in a million that comes along to make that go away.” Logan took Ororo’s hand, holding the ring between trembling fingers, stroking her knuckles with tenderness and reverence. His voice shook as he recited the vows, but he was smiling, beaming at her with so much passion, love and respect she thought she’d melt into a puddle of goo.
“I, James Logan, take you Ororo N’Dare, to be my wife, my partner in life and my one and only….” He hesitated, and drew her hands to his lips to kiss it, lingering while he composed himself. “I will cherish our friendship and love you today, tomorrow, and forever. I’ll trust you and honor you. I will laugh with you and cry with you.” She wiped more tears from her own cheeks, not giving a damn about her makeup. “I promise I’m gonna laugh with ya, darlin’! I will love you faithfully through the best and the worst, What may come I’ll always be there. Everything I’ve ever had, it’s yours, ‘Ro. So help me God.” Behind them, hands were being clasped and fanning at new tears, clutching at Kleenex. The pristine wedding band slid onto her finger, lying flush against the cherished engagement ring, looking so perfect on her slender hand.
“I, Ororo N’Dare, take you, James Logan, to be my husband, my partner in life and my one and only. I will cherish our friendship and love you today, tomorrow, and forever.” Her lips trembled, but she still smiled radiantly and with heartfelt promise. “I will trust you and honor you, Logan. I will laugh with you and cry with you. I’ll love you so faithfully, Logan. Through the best and the worst, through the difficult and the easy.” She smothered a laugh, and felt her friends agreeing with her when she said “We’ve already been through the difficult!” His wedding band found its way onto his hand, and she covered it protectively, stroking him.
“Bring it on!” Vic roared, and that set everyone off.
“What may come I will always be there,” she continued. “As I have given you my hand to hold, so I give you my life to keep; so help me God. I love you!” she sobbed.
“Thank ya. Thank ya very much,” the King repeated, in fine form. “Ya’ll know what’s next.” Logan grinned and snaked his arm around Ororo’s waist, completely jumping the gun and surprising no one when he dipped her, plundering her mouth shamelessly to hoots and applause. “Fine, then! I now pronounce you man and wife! You won’t be lonesome tonight! Hang up the Do Not Disturb sign!” He stepped down from the podium and proudly announced, “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Howlett. G’wan, boy, kiss yer missus!”
“We’ll be seein’ a lotta that tonight,” Anna mused, grinning when Ororo righted herself and leaned into another kiss, this time grabbing Logan’s backside for emphasis. Vic cheered her on and aimed his camera phone at the spectacle.
Ororo was restless and giddy on the drive to the resort. She rode over with Logan this time, and he swatted playfull at her hand as she teased him from the passenger seat.
“Yer gonna get us arrested, woman!”
“Can’t help it. You clean up nice,” she observed, repeating Scott’s words.
“Quit undressin’ me with yer eyes “ hey!” Her hand slid farther up his thigh than was ladylike, and she leaned over, pressing her bosom against his arm as she nipped his earlobe. He felt himself grow hot and hard, groaning at her antics.
“Didn’t plan on just using my eyes for that, handsome.”
“Married a friggin’ sex maniac," he grumbled as he retrieved her errant hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing her knuckles.
They adjourned to the buffet, snugly esconced in the casino lounge, and they wisecracked over cracked crab and champagne. Logan and Vic relieved the serving area of obscene amounts of prime rib. The women looked on in a mixture of awe and amused disgust.
Victor stood up and tapped his wineglass, which looked absurdly small in his enormous hand.
“Speech! Speech!” Remy and Scott chanted. Logan let out a shrill whistle of agreement.
“Don’t expect any of that sentimental crap from me, runt,” Vic warned.
“Ain’t expectin’ hearts and flowers, bub. Get on with it already!” Ororo leaned companionably into him, resting her palm over his heart. She was anxious to peel him out of the well-tailored silk vest and sleek black tuxedo jacket once they were behind closed doors, despite how fine he looked in it. She was relaxed, tipsy, and surrounded by everyone she loved.
“Here’s a toast for ya “ I’ve gt yer toast hangin’ right here! “ naw, just messin’ with ya. Here’s ta Logan and his lady. May ya always be able ta stick together through house payments, car notes, crappy jobs, burnt dinner and poopy diapers. May ya always be able ta be there fer each other ta lean on when yer older than dirt, and manage ta kiss each other every day, even when yer teeth are restin’ in a glass every night!” Piotr roared, wiping his eyes. Scott and Remy threw cat calls.
“Well, that’s romantic,” Anna muttered. Lorna was cakling too loudly to reply and rapidly turning red in the face.
“And this is Logan we’re talkin’ about,” Vic reminded them. He checked his watch. “Any time now…” He raised his glass. “Be good to him, Petunia.”
“Yes, sir!” she mocked, saluting him with her own glass.
They nearly took up the entire dance floor of the casino’s club. Piotr and Sage promised to meet them in the morning, excusing themselves to take Aliyah to Circus Circus. Remy sidled up to the DJ booth and conferred with him briefly while Ororo and her friends were beginning an impromptu Soul Train stroll.
“Rumor has it we’ve got a pair of newlyweds in the house!” the DJ boomed into the mic. “Your best man want to dedicate this next song to the two of you, and for you to share your first dance together as man and wife!” The club lighting changedfrom a dizzying strobe to a softly lit suite, and a disco ball descended from the ceiling, spinning slowly and bathing the wedding party in prisms of light that resembled bubbles.
Prince’s “Adore” piped from the speakers, and Logan took Ororo in his arms easily, moving them in a graceful dance that had Ali and Anna snapping pictures again. The dance floor was cleared as the club’s occupants admired the couple enjoying the reverie with so much honest affection.
They piled into their scheduled limo after several hours of clubhoppnig, gambling, and profiling in the streets, still dressed in their wedding finery. They blearily stumbled into the elevator of their hotel, chuckling at how ragged they’d run themselves, and all of them whooped it up as Logan hoisted Ororo into his arms, gown and all, and carried her over the threshold of their suite once Remy managed to pry open the door with the key card. The last they saw of them was Ororo yanking Logan away from the door by the lapels and Logan hastily slapping the Do Not Disturb” sign onto the knob before it was kicked shut.
“Keep the veil on,” Logan mumbled around Ororo’s devouring lips. She divested him of the tie first, untying the knot Remy had worked on so carefully and crumpling it in a heap on the side table. Her fingers flew over his vest buttons as he shrugged out of his jacket. His cufflinks clattered onto the table, and she managed to pry open his top shirt button before he yanked it off over his head. She collapsed back onto the bed, kicking off her mule-heeled pumps, barely missing the TV cabinet as they sailed across the room. Logan eyed her wickedly, loving the look of anticipation and lust on her face.
He knelt beside her, tenderly caressing her cheek as his fingers tugged off her dangling earrings one at a time, dropping them on the bedstand. “Need help?”
“Zipper,” she replied, running her hand over the sculpted planes of his chest. He swept her fall of hair aside and reached around her, releasing the fasteners and dragging it down to her waist. Yards of frothy fabric fell away from her body, and the air-conditioned coolness kissed her skin right before Logan did. Her gown landed in a swish atop the opposite bed as they sank onto the mattress.
They paid no heed to where the rest of their clothes ended up; Logan would wake up the next day to find Ororo’s garter belt hanging from the lampshade. All that mattered was losing himself in her touch. In the darkened suite, she fervently cried his name. Loving him. Trusting him. Completing him.
One door down, Anna and Remy made love sweetly, staring into each other’s eyes.
Three doors down, Ali and Scott lounged together in the Jacuzzi tub, soaping each other with lazy bliss.
Across the hall, Lorna, Betsy and Emma fell asleep where they dropped, having already devised a plan of attack for the brunch buffet and how to head off the inevitable hangover.
In the corner suite farthest from the ice machine, Sage and Piotr lay spooned together in the king-sized bed, with Aliyah tucked into the adjoining cot.
Two thousand miles away, Jean lay awake in the dark, tossing fitfully. Down the hall, Luna slept in her carefully appointed pink room that Jean decorated with such care. It had taken forever to convince her to go to bed, after an hour of bribing her with playing dress-up with the contents of Jean’s jewelry box. Jean was knackered and worn out.
Beside her, Pietro’s pillow was empty, the sheets cold. She listened futilely for the rumble of his Jeep in the driveway.
In the silence of her impeccably clean room, lying in the bed that she made, Jean knew she’d never sleep.
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