Chapter 64 (1/15/17)

The ceremony was long, with a full mass.  Ryan fidgeted even more than I did.  Most people found wedding ceremonies beautiful, and they were…if you knew the couple.  If you don’t, well, it’s just kind of boring.  But we made it through.  The reception was downtown, so after the ceremony we took the car back to our hotel, which was within walking distance of the reception venue. 

“Excellent planning, sir,” I said to Ryan as we rode the elevator up to our room.  I had decided to change into flats before the reception, realizing that after an evening of dancing the four-block walk back to the hotel would be torturous in heels.  “Do these look okay with my dress?” I asked, frowning at my reflection in the full-length mirror.

“You look incredible,” Ryan replied, becoming visible in the mirror as he stepped up behind me.  “So incredible that I was having a lot of impure thoughts in that church.”  He gently brushed my curls over one shoulder, trailing his fingers across the back of my neck, over my shoulder, and down my arm.  He made eye contact with me in the mirror as he dropped his mouth to my shoulder, softly kissing his way across it and up my neck.  “I think we’d better do something about that so I can behave myself at the reception.”

“We’ll be late for the cocktail hour,” I teased him.  But to be honest, after the awkward encounter with Eleanor before the ceremony, I found his desire for me a relief. 

“Fuck the cocktail hour,” he said, sliding one hand along the outside of my thigh, slipping it easily beneath my dress.  He pushed the skirt up until his fingers brushed the lacy edge of my thong.  “Fuck the reception too, while we’re at it.”

“The reception is the only reason to go to a wedding in the first place,” I pointed out.  I gasped as his fingers slipped inside my thong and brushed against me.  “On second thought, we’ll see what happens.”

Ryan chuckled and watched me in the mirror as he stroked me slowly and gently.  I moved my hips against his hand, trying to get him moving faster.  “You’re so sexy when you’re turned on,” he growled, his lips finding my neck again.  I moaned as he pushed two fingers inside me, working them until my legs got shaky. 

“No,” I groaned when he withdrew his fingers.

“Just wait,” he said, working my underwear down over my hips.  He pushed them down until they slid to the floor, and then I heard his zipper.  “Bend,” he said, gently pressing his hand between my shoulder blades.  I bent forward slightly, bracing myself against the mirror.  I gasped and pushed back against him as he entered me, pushing slowly into me from behind.  Ryan wrapped both arms around me, slipping one past the low-cut neckline of my dress and beneath my bra to cup my breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and finger.  The other snaked around my hips, pressing his fingers against me as he thrust into me, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed. 

After my first orgasm, Ryan had to use one arm to keep me on my feet, slamming hard into me over and over while I whimpered and moaned.  It didn’t take long for me to come again, and Ryan followed shortly after.  We both sunk to the floor in a heap, breathing hard.  I slumped against his chest, turning my head so my hair rested against his shoulder rather than my face.  I didn’t want to get makeup on his jacket.  “Fuck the cocktail hour,” I mumbled.  Ryan laughed.

We sat tangled together for just a couple minutes before I groaned and shifted away.  “We should go,” I said, shifting until my knees were under me and making my way to my feet.

I turned to offer a hand to Ryan and he raised an eyebrow while he took it and stood.  “You should get yourself together before we go,” he said, trying not to laugh.  I turned and looked in the mirror and immediately burst into laughter.  My hair was a mess, my eye makeup was slightly smeared, my dress was hitched up over one hip, and my thong was still around one ankle.

“Your shirt is wrinkled,” I retorted, tugging my underwear up and my dress down. “And your tie is crooked.”

“Easily fixed,” he said.  I had to tear my eyes away from him as he loosened his tie and then unbuttoned his shirt.  He tossed it on the bed and took the ironing board and iron out of the small closet.

“You iron?” I asked, carefully detangling my hair with my fingers and smoothing the curls. 

He chuckled.  “I do when I have to.  And unfortunately, I have to fairly often.” 

I fixed my makeup while he was ironing his shirt.  By the time I was slipping my flats back on, Ryan was tightening his tie.  I carefully straightened the slightly off-kilter knot and then smoothed my hands down his chest.  “Handsome again,” I said, smirking.

“Again?  You didn’t have any complaints 10 minutes ago.”

“Fair point,” I said, grinning.  I stood on my tiptoes and he leaned down and kissed me.  “You’re always handsome.”

“Aw, shucks,” he said, winking at me.  He pressed his lips to my forehead and said, “I’d better be, to be seen in public with a woman as beautiful as you are.”

We barely made it back out of the hotel room without a round two.  I was in much better spirits than I’d been an hour ago as we walked the four blocks to the reception venue hand in hand.  “Hey,” Ryan said before we walked inside. 

“Yeah?”
            “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course,” I said, grinning at him.  He kissed me once more, soft and quick.   Then, with his arm around my shoulders, we walked inside.

“Hi, I’m Jenna,” I said to the fifteenth new person that I had been introduced to since we walked in.  Ryan had been very popular in his hometown.  “It’s so nice to meet you.”

We had managed to catch the end of cocktail hour.  Appetizers were gone, unfortunately, but the glass of Pinot Grigio in my hand was fabulous.  Ryan was cheerfully greeting and introducing me to a variety of well-dressed men and women.  “You need another,” he said, looking at my nearly empty glass.  “Let me get it.”

“I’ll go too,” I said quickly.  I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people that I didn’t know and I wasn’t ready to make small talk by myself.

“After you, then,” he said, stepping to the side and holding one hand out towards the bar.  He winked at me as I slipped past him, and followed closely with one hand on my lower back. 

“I’m already happy I changed into flats,” I said as we stood in line at the bar.  We hadn’t sat since we left the hotel. 

Ryan grinned and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at me.  “I’m glad too, otherwise we wouldn’t have had a reason to go up to the room.”

I laughed and stepped up to the bar as the person in front of us vacated a spot.  We ordered a drink and Ryan looped his arm around my waist and pulled me tightly against him, pressing his lips to the top of my head.  “Did I tell you that you look absolutely beautiful?” he asked softly.

“Only about 15 times,” I replied.

“Not enough, I need to tell you more,” he replied.  “I love that dress on you.”  He dropped his mouth towards my ear and whispered, “Especially with it pushed up past your hips.”

“Perv,” I said.  I blushed as the bartender returned with my wine and Ryan’s bourbon. 

“Ryan!  Jenna!  I’ve been looking all over for you two!”  I almost cringed at Eleanor’s voice behind us. 

“We just got here about 45 minutes ago,” Ryan said, turning and smiling at her. 

“Have you guys found your table yet?” Eleanor chirped, laying her hand on Ryan’s arm.  I stared at it.  She kept it there.

Ryan looked at me.  “We did, but what was the number?”

“Table 8,” I supplied, dragging my gaze from where Eleanor’s hand was still seemingly attached to Ryan’s arm.

Eleanor clapped and exclaimed, “That’s my table!” 

“Of course it is,” I muttered.  Eleanor looked at me, puzzled.  Ryan nudged my waist gently.  “I just mean that I thought I saw your name card there when we found it earlier.  That’s great,” I said, louder.  I forced a cheerful smile.

“Come on, they’re going to do the toasts and first dance soon.”  Eleanor slid her hand down Ryan’s arm to grab his free hand and pulled him towards the table.  I frowned unhappily at her back, wishing she’d get her hands off him.

“Well, come on,” Ryan said to me.  “They’re going to do the first dance soon.”  The sparkle in his eye told me he thought Eleanor was ridiculous, but it was little consolation.

The first dance happened about 10 minutes later.  I’d never been to a wedding where the first dance happened before dinner, but Eleanor informed us of all the good reasons to do it that way.  “You know, then you can send the photographer home sooner, and it’s cheaper.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have thought of that,” Ryan said. 

“Me neither,” said a pretty blonde on the other side of Eleanor.  Her name was either Melissa or Marissa, it had been hard to tell in the noisy room.  I turned to chat with her a little so I didn't have to watch Eleanor eye-fucking Ryan any more.

“I’m going to find the restroom,” Ryan said in my ear after a few minutes.  “You’ll be okay for a sec?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied, nodding.  Ryan kissed my cheek and got up.  I watched him weave through the mass of people and disappear.

“Soooo,” Eleanor said, startling me.  I turned and found her in Ryan’s seat, her face alight as she looked at me.  “Ryan said you were his ‘date’ but you two certainly look a little closer than just dates.”

“Yeah, um, we’re seeing each other,” I said. 

“Oh, that’s great!” she said.  Her voice was enthusiastic but her expression was flat.  “For how long?”

I considered this.  I had no idea.  Should I count the months we had just been sleeping together?  Only from when we finally acknowledged that it was more than that?  “A few months or so,” I replied finally. 

She looked perplexed by the amount of time it had taken me to answer and my completely non-specific reply.  “So you’re not like…his girlfriend?” she asked, the confusion evident on her face.

I shifted uncomfortably.  “I mean, we’re not seeing other people, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh,” she said.  That had clearly not been what she was asking.  Or at least not what she wanted to hear.  “Well, great! Ryan is great.”

“He really is,” I said.  Finally, something we could agree on. 

“I really am what?” Ryan asked, appearing behind me and laying a hand on my shoulder.

“A man of impeccable timing,” I replied, looking up at him and smiling.  “You brought me another glass of wine!”  Eleanor moved reluctantly back to her seat and Ryan sat down, sliding a full glass of wine to me. 

“Yours was almost empty and I walked right past the bar.  It would have been remiss of me to not get you another.”

“Remiss!” Eleanor exclaimed, giggling and putting her hand on his arm again.  “You were always so smart.”

“Only as smart as absolutely necessary,” he said, taking a long drink of his bourbon and winking at her.  It wasn't quite so attractive when it was directed at other people.  “So, Nor, no man with you tonight?  I’m surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she gasped with mock indignation.  She swatted his arm.  “My boyfriend is unfortunately dealing with an unexpected family matter this weekend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Ryan said sincerely.  “I hope everything is okay.”

“Nothing bad,” she assured us, “or I wouldn’t be here, of course.  I’d be with him.”

I bet you would, I thought to myself.  I caught myself just before I rolled my eyes.

“Tell us about him,” I urged her, trying to distract her from flirting with Ryan.

“Oh, you know,” she replied dismissively.  “We live in Minneapolis.  He went to med school there; he’s a doctor.  But I want to hear more about what you’re doing now, Ry!”  She once again laid her hand on Ryan's arm, squeezing and smiling expectantly at him.  

I almost choked on my wine.  Ryan looked at me with concern as I sputtered and coughed into my napkin.  “Are you alright?” he asked me.

“Fine,” I said, when I had collected myself.  The look on his face said that he knew exactly why I had nearly choked. 

“Are you sure?  We could go out and get some air.”

“She just swallowed wrong Ryan, she said she’s fine,” Eleanor said cheerfully, gently shaking Ryan's arm to get his attention back.  “Anyway, he’s a doctor and he works a lot, but he’ll get some better hours soon, I hope.  So tell me what you’re doing for work.”

I restrained myself from asking his name, because I didn’t actually want to know if he’d gone to med school with Kevin, and if I maybe even knew him.  Instead I smiled, then excused myself to go to the bathroom.

Three glasses of wine on an empty stomach were not being kind to me, and I was again thankful I had changed my shoes.  I wondered when dinner was being served as I walked back to the table, but the thought flew from my brain when I got close enough to see Eleanor with her arm wrapped around Ryan’s arm, leaning into him and laughing.  Ryan wasn’t quite reciprocating her intimate body language but he certainly didn’t look uncomfortable either.  I took a deep breath and strode back to the table, forcing all traces of wobble out of my tipsy gait.