Disclaimer: The following is a fictional adaptation. I do not work for Pixelberry Studios, the game developer, or own the rights to the characters Chris Powell, Kaitlyn, Abbie, Zack, Becca, James or Tyler.
Character Pairing: Chris X MC. Theme inspired by Bruno Mars’ “Marry You”.
Author’s Note: Contains very mature situations and language. This is Part 3 of a previous short story. You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.
Marry You
Part III of Attention: A Chris Powell AU Short (NSFW)
He feels the dampness of her palm against his own as she takes timid steps at his side. They stop in front of a set of grey double doors and he watches the staff hurrying into position around them before he anchors his attention on her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
MC’s lips jerk upwards in a quick, nervous smile. He squeezes her hand again and leans over, his breath tickling her ear as he speaks. “It’s okay. I’m right here with you,” he says and stands up straight, searching her face once more. She nods, squeezing his hand in return and patting it with her other, this time giving him a genuine smile, comforted by his words.
“Chris you ready?” asks a silver-haired man of whom MC has already forgotten the name.
Chris straightens his back, his visage changing, washing himself in confidence and leadership. He nods, buttoning the suit jacket with his free hand and the silver-haired man grasps the handles on the doors, pushing them wide open. He steps out of the way as Chris strides forward, MC holding tightly onto his hand, entering the room at his side.
As they walk in, cameras swing into position, zooming in on the clean-shaven, blue-eyed savior of the Rams organization. The flashing of bulbs and the cadence of camera shutters are the soundtrack to their arrival. Chris and MC are trailed by his agent, Leigh Steinberg, Rams owner Stan Kroenke and the team’s head coach Sean McVay. A large backdrop with the Rams logo is rigged up behind a table with three seats, and three black microphones on stands in front of each chair. A podium is next to the table, the mic on top powered on and ready for the press conference.
Chris smiles at MC, escorting her to a chair on the front row. He helps her to take a seat, bending over and kissing her cheek as she sits. Cameras rapidly click and reporters snap a few pictures from their phones before instantly uploading the pictures to Twitter and Instagram. If she’s here, then it’s official: Chris Powell and MC are back together.
Chris is guided by the silver-haired man to a seat at the table between Mr. Kroenke and Coach McVay. Leigh takes a seat next to MC on the front row and the nearly two-dozen reporters and photographers move into place as the presser begins.
The silver-haired man steps to the podium, tapping the microphone to test it once more before speaking.
“Thank you all for being here today, I’m Richard Dalrock, Head of Media Communications for the Rams,” he says. MC makes a mental note to ensure she remembers Richard’s name. She has a feeling he will be a big part of their lives in the future.
“It’s a special day for the Rams organization. Today we make official a deal that will keep Chris Powell in a Rams uniform for years to come,” Richard says. Chris smiles and Mr. Kroenke and Coach McVay both give him congratulatory slaps on the back. “Chris before we get started with remarks, let’s get the paperwork out of the way first, shall we?” Richard smiles and everyone in the room chuckles. An assistant steps forward, handing Richard a glossy blue and gold presentation folder. Richard places it down in front of Chris, handing him a silver pen.
He opens the folder, pulling out the papers as the video cameras roll and the still photographers move into place for the crucial moment. Chris glances up at MC, their eyes locking. She gives him a smile and nod, before he looks down and swirls his signature over the massive contract-extension. He sits the pen down on the table, Mr. Kroenke and Coach McVay each reaching over and shaking his hand, pausing as photographers capture their shots.
“Now a word from Chris,” Richard says.
The young quarterback pushes his chair back and heads to the podium, Richard stepping to the side of the room.
“Thank you all for coming today,” Chris stresses with a smile. “It is a very special day for me and my family. I’d like to thank the Rams ownership, coaching staff and players for their support,” Chris looks up and against one of the walls his buddies and teammates Tavarius Wright and Cole Bennett are standing, each smiles and waves a hand at him. “We’ve got T-Dub and C-B in the house this afternoon. Thanks guys.”
“I’d also like to thank my agent who is here with me today, Mr. Leigh Steinberg, my mother, brother and sister back home in Maine for their ongoing support and,” Chris pauses, gripping the podium as he looks directly at her, “I’d like to thank my fiancé, MC, for loving me and believing in me. Thank you sweetheart,” Chris says tuning out the media swarm in the room and staring intently back at his love.
There is a soft murmuring amongst the reporters in the room at Chris’s pointed use of the word “fiancé.” They had barely sent out their blasts on social media announcing MC’s appearance at the press conference before their fingers began moving as fast as they can text and tweet that MC and Chris were not only back together, they are getting married! One of the country’s hottest and most eligible bachelors was back off the market almost as fast as he had entered it.
MC’s breath catches in her throat.
They had not discussed this. There had been no formal announcement of their engagement, at least not until now. The only few who knew were Chris and MC’s families, his agent, his teammate Russell Thibbs and his wife Shari, and their extended family of Zack, Kaitlyn, Tyler, Abbie, Becca and James.
Zack screamed so loudly when Chris and MC called to share the news that MC had to put the phone down on the coffee table for 15 solid minutes until he calmed down. He had already begun discussing the colors and the theme for the ceremony. Tyler and Abbie were much more reserved in their response, happy that Chris and MC were reunited but already offering advice about the hardships of marriage. Kaitlyn and Becca were both interested in where the reception would be held and James had offered to help the young couple write their vows.
With Chris’s gaze now affixed to hers, a slow smile comes to her lips and she feels the fluttering knot in her stomach. His eyes say it all: He was ready for the world to know she was his again and would be forever.
MC looks down at the diamond ring on her finger. The very next morning after his impromptu proposal, Chris wanted to make it the moment they had both always dreamed of. He roused his sleepy bride-to-be, just as the sun began to rise.
“MC, baby, wake up,” he said placing gentle kisses on her shoulder, neck and then her cheek as he nuzzled her hair.
“Hmm?” she grumbled, her face buried in the pillows.
“Wake up….” He laughed lightly, kissing her ear before nibbling lightly at the lobe.
“Ungh. Mmmhmmm,” she grunted with her displeasure at being stirred from her slumber but delighted at the sensation of his warm lips against her ear.
She put a hand next to her face, pushing the downy pillow from obstructing her view and cracked an eye open at him. His blue eyes twinkled with joy and adoration, a childlike grin on his face.
“You are way too upbeat for this time of the morning,” MC said and had to laugh at his beatific expression.
“I’m going to marry the woman I love, what is there to not be happy about?” he asked, his lips still smiling as he kissed her shoulder tenderly. He traced his fingertips down her bare spine, pushing the bed covers away from her body and admiring the partial view of her nakedness.
MC rubbed her eyes and giggled. “Is there a reason you have me up this early though?”
“Yes,” he said. “Get dressed. We’re going shopping.” He sat up on the edge of the bed and smiled down at her. She ran a hand over her hair attempting to smooth the compass her strands were making: They pointed North, South, East and West. She rolled onto her back, pulling the covers up over her bare breasts.
“Shopping?”
“Yes,” Chris nodded. “It’s already been 13 hours since I proposed and you don’t have a ring on your finger. That’s not right,” he shook his head.
“Chris-“
“Ah!” he waved his hands demonstratively as he cut her off. “No. I’m doing this the right way.”
“Chris I’d marry you with or without a ring,” MC said looking at him. She smiled but her eyes were sincere with the honesty of her statement.
“That’s sweet,” he nodded. “Very Hallmark moment,” he cocked an eyebrow. “But, today, I’m buying your ring. So get up. Let’s go!” he said hopping to his feet. “Jewelry stores await us and there’s a diamond out there with your name on it!”
He put his hands on his hips and looked at her, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. MC only began to laugh. “You’re serious about this?”
“Look,” Chris said licking his lips. “Last night…that’s…that’s not exactly how I intended to propose to you. I mean, I’m glad I did! I meant it!” he corrected when he saw her blink slowly. “I just…I kind of always wanted it to be down on one knee in front of the Eiffel Tower or something,” he shrugged a little. “I always had this big plan for when I did and then last night, I was so caught up in everything we both felt, it just seemed like the right time to ask. I wanted you to be holding a bouquet or roses, not….” He shrugs again.
“And not my thighs open?” MC asked with a laugh. Chris tossed his head back incredulously. He shook his head, giving a chuckle.
“Your words, not mine…but yes, MC. I want to this to be the wedding you deserve. I want it to be everything you ever hoped for.”
“I’m going to be your wife,” she said. “That is everything I’ve hoped for.”
Four hours later they found the sparkler, uniquely crafted like their love story and perfectly fitting of MC’s beauty in Chris’s eyes. He drove out of the city to Venice Beach where he had looked up a few highly touted stores not in the immediate LA or Beverly Hills area. He knew the chances of them being spotted together entering a jewelry store in the city were extremely high, given the paparazzi’s propensity for always being exactly where he did not want them to be.
They found Todd Reed’s store on the second floor of a Venice Beach retail center. Chris spotted the ring quickly from underneath the glass the display, asking to see it and holding it up to MC. She meant what she said when she told him she would have married him without a ring. Still, when Chris held up his suggested choice, she could not help but to marvel at it. The yellow gold ring included a four-karat rose cut diamond in the middle and the band was surrounded by white brilliants, strategically placed like starlight to adorn the finger. MC studied it, a slow smile creeping onto her face as she bit into her lip, trying to tame her enthusiasm. Chris looked into her eyes as he slipped it onto her finger in the store.
“Is this the one, sir?” The jeweler asked from behind the counter.
He stared back into MC’s eyes, smiling sheepishly. “This is the one….” He replied softly as he held her hand.
Now, three days later, MC lifts her eyes from the ring back to the love of her life standing at the podium.
He nods his head at her before continuing. “The Los Angeles Rams took a chance on me in last year’s draft, trusting me with the starting quarterback role at camp last July and Coach McVay allowed me to run the offense in a way that would help me reach my potential as an NFL quarterback. I thank them for their trust and confidence in me and I am proud to wear the blue and gold. Their faith in me deserved to be returned with my faith and allegiance to them, and so this five-year deal is really only a technicality in what my goal had always been. I want to spend all of my playing days here in Los Angeles and someday retire as a Ram.”
***
“What about this?” Chris asks holding up a magnification loupe shaped like an old door key.
“Yes,” MC nods at him. “That was actually Professor Vasquez’s,” she explains.
Chris takes the object in his hands and carefully wraps it newspaper before placing it inside the box he is packing of her desk items.
A celebration for his megadeal was held immediately after the press conference at the Rams headquarters. The deal itself became secondary to the other news of the day, Chris and MC’s engagement. It was the top trending item on Twitter and all of the gossip blogs and news outlets were carrying the story. During the press conference, someone had managed to zoom in on the ring on MC’s finger. Female football fans across the country were posting messages of mourning for Chris Powell’s single status. Hashtag #RIPowell was also trending.
The members of the Rams front office and his teammates congratulated the couple.
“That was fast,” Tavarius said to Chris as MC chatted with Cole. “A few nights ago, you two weren’t even back together yet.”
“Not exactly planned but I’m happy,” Chris said. Tavarius patted his shoulder and squeezed.
“For me personally, I’ve never been so happy and so sad all at once,” Tavarius sighed.
“Why is that?” Chris asked with an amused smirk.
“You take the plunge, that’s like woman-repellant dude. I was banking on all the time I was going to get to spend with lovely ladies that didn’t quite meet the Powell standard,” Tavarius huffed. “Now what?”
“Cole is still single,” Chris laughed.
“With that face, Cole will always be single,” Tavarius retorted.
The congratulations continued before Chris and MC left the Rams headquarters and immediately headed to the airport, leaving LA and the media circus they had created behind. They boarded an evening flight to LaGuardia Airport and arrived at MC’s Manhattan apartment late in the night. They collapsed with exhaustion in her bed before waking the next morning and picking up supplies to begin packing up some of MC’s personal belongings to ship back to LA.
“It was Vasquez’s?” Chris asks.
“Yeah. He had it on his desk at his office. When he passed away, I asked James if I could have it. I keep it on my desk here as a reminder of him when I’m writing,” MC said. “All of this is because of him,” she says of the English professor who helped to launch her career.
“That’s a nice keepsake to have,” Chris nods. “We will order you your own desk for the condo, convert one of the bedrooms and make it your office for privacy. How does that sound?” he smiles at her.
“You’d do that?” she pauses from putting a few blouses in a box.
“You’re moving to LA for me,” Chris shrugs. “Least I can do. Besides, it’s not just my place anymore, it’s ours.” He stops and stares back at her. She nods.
“I can clear out some things here too,” she agrees. “That way when we are at home here in the City, you can have room for more than just your clothes. I’m sorry there’s not a lot of room. This apartment really is made for one,” she sighs.
“Then….maybe we should look for some place bigger here?” Chris asks. “If we are going to split the year and have two homes, they should feel like home, not just a storage space.”
“Yeah?” she grins.
“Of course MC,” he nods. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes for us to be happy.”
She smiles at him, rounding the space near her desk as she steps towards him and slides her arms around his waist. He bends down and places a lingering kiss against her lips. She smiles happily before letting go.
Chris turns and begins to rummage through items on the shelf behind her desk. “Any of these books and things you want to pack?”
“Uh, let me see,” she says eyeing the shelves. Chris reaches up and pulls out a few books and knick knacks, studying them before returning them to their place. He spots the edge of something thin wedged between two books and slides it out. It’s an oil painting on a small 14 x 18 canvas panel. The crudely brushed painting is of a butterfly floating through a blue sky. Chris examines the artwork and notices the initials painted in the corner: M.C..
“You did this?” he asks her.
“Huh?” she says breaking her concentration from her survey of books on the shelves. She looks over at the painting in his hand. “Oh. That….Uh, yeah,” she nods.
“It’s pretty good,” he compliments.
“No it’s not and you are a horrible liar,” she laughs and tries to take it from his hands but he holds on to it, moving it away from her grasp.
“Really, it’s not bad. I didn’t know you were ever interested in painting,” he says.
“I….” she chews her lip. “It was just this one-time thing I tried. No big deal,” she does not make eye contact as she turns away from him and heads back to the stack of shirts she was packing up. Chris has been with her long enough to know when she’s avoiding a topic.
“One-time thing?” He asks, still holding the painting in his hands.
“Yeah….” She licks her teeth and sighs, realizing she might as well be forthcoming about it. She turns to face him. “There was this guy,” she begins and before the words have had time to ease from her lips, his eyes narrow. “When we were broken up, a friend of Abbie’s….” She says, playing with her fingers as she speaks. “He owns an art studio in SoHo. She tried to set us up. I went to one of his classes one night. It was nothing,” MC explains.
Chris’s eyes are crinkled slits as he peers back at MC.
“Chris it was nothing. I went to his class, we went on one date. There was nothing there, no spark,” MC says trying to massage the jealous tendency of her lover.
“Abbie tried to set you up with someone while we were apart?” Chris tosses the painting down on the desk and folds his arms over his chest.
“She just wanted me to be happy again Chris. She wanted me to try and move on,” she shakes her head. “We were apart for six months. I don’t think I even left the house except to go to work for four of those,” she says exasperated.
“Did anything happen with you and him?” he asks flatly.
“Chris.”
“MC,” he mimics.
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “A kiss goodnight that’s it. If you want to know if there was anyone else, the answer is yes. I went out a few times with a book critique for The New Yorker. We had dinner a few times, but again no spark. I didn’t sleep with him either.”
“I didn’t ask that,” Chris says pointedly.
“You don’t have to. I can feel it from the way you are looking at me,” she says slightly irritated. “We were broken up. I was allowed to spend my time the way I wanted to. What, so you and I broke up and you didn’t date anyone or sleep with anyone for six months?”
“No,” Chris says, tilting his head back.
MC freezes, then stammers and blinks, shocked by his response.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t see anyone. I didn’t date. I certainly didn’t hook up with anyone else.”
She exhales slowly and runs her fingers over her forehead. “Chris…”
“People tried to set me up. Girls flirted and came on to me, yeah. But, I didn’t want them. I wanted you. I wanted what we had and anything less than that just didn’t feel right.”
“If you had though, if you had gone out with someone else while we were apart, I couldn’t judge you for that. I wouldn’t judge you for that. We had no way of knowing we were going to get back together. I would understand that you were just trying to live your life.”
He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck, taking a deep breath. He sticks his tongue in his cheek as he nods slowly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk about it. I just…I can’t stand the thought of you not being mine or you being with someone else. Ever, broken up or not.”
“I know,” she sighs and moves some of the clothes off of her sofa to take a seat.
“And as far as Abbie, she’s getting a strongly worded Christmas card from me this year,” he jokes. He shoves his hands in his pockets and smirks. MC lets out a laugh.
“I’ll handle the Christmas cards this year then,” she chuckles and pauses. “I guess we need to start thinking about our invite list for the wedding too, so we can have an idea of how many people and look for a space big enough.”
“Do you want a big wedding?” Chris asks stepping around to the front of the desk and leaning against the edge of it.
“I keep thinking in my head that I don’t but…as I start thinking of people, that mental list gets longer. There’s the gang from college and all their dates, family, coworkers, your teammates and the coaches. Eh, this is going to be 400 people by the time it’s all said and done.”
“I’m happy with whatever you want, big or small. The thing is…when? I’ve got minicamp in a few weeks, then we have training camp in July and then preseason and the season starts. The only time off will be June and that’s in a month and a half. Otherwise, we wait until after next season is done. Maybe March or April of next year…?” Chris says sounding dejected. The thought is deflating: a whole year before he can say “I do”?
“If we do it in June, is that enough time for our friends to get ready and make travel plans? For us to get a venue and all of that, too? Even if we hire a wedding planner, they’re going to need a miracle of biblical proportions to pull it off that fast,” MC rests her elbow on her knee, cradling her chin in her hand as she thinks.
“MC I don’t want to wait till next year,” Chris says thinking out loud. “After everything we’ve been through, I don’t want to risk something happening in a year that would keep us from getting married,” his blue eyes visually caress her face. “I proposed the other night because all I could think about was having you in my life forever. Now, having to wait 12 months because of what’s convenient on the calendar for everyone else…doesn’t seem fair to us. I promised you that night I would love you every single day like it was our last together and I meant that.” He pushes off of the desk and walks towards her.
Looking up at the handsome, tall man, towering over her, she feels like the college freshman again enamored with the school’s quarterback. Chris bends down, kneeling so that his eyes are level with hers. He reaches out, rubbing her arms before he takes her hands in his, squeezing them before looking into her eyes.
Her eyes search his face for understanding.
“It’s been a pretty solid week of crazy, huh?” he laughs lightly, his eyes humored by his own joke.
“You mean us getting back together, me agreeing to move to LA, you getting that epic contract and then proposing all within like 72 hours? I personally found it to be a little drab and boring to be honest. LA’s really going to have to step up the excitement if I’m going to call it home,” she lifts her brows.
Chris laughs and squeezes her hands again, looking into her eyes.
“Would you be up for a little more crazy?” he asks. He tucks his lips and blinks hopefully.
She stares back at him quizzically. “What are you getting at Powell?”
“MC,” He breathes out and licks his suddenly very dry mouth, gulping. “Marry me. Tomorrow.”
***
Irma Brown has been dressing brides for 40 years. Some are hastily selected dresses to cover an indiscretion, others the result of days-long drunken binges in Las Vegas. Irma has seen it all. She does not judge, especially when the brides are able to pay in full. She’s made alterations just as the doors to the chapel have opened to reveal the bride and she’s had weeks of working with clients, taking the sides of gowns in, as the client trains and slims for that perfect look on the big day.
Irma knows the ones that will work out and the ones that won’t. When she zips the corset on the white lace gown MC is wearing, she knows without having even met the groom, this marriage will work out.
MC is not at all nervous, as calm and as reserved as she stands on the platform inside Couture Brides of Las Vegas as she would be stretched across her sofa reading a book. She looks at her reflection in the half moon mirrors that stretch around the front of the platform. She turns and looks over her shoulder, checking out the flowing train on the back of the gown.
“What do you think?” Irma asks her.
“I think this is it,” MC smiles happily.
“I think so too. You are breathtaking in it,” Irma replies. “It fits you perfect. Only need to raise the hem just a bit,” she says kneeling down beside the Vera Wang creation.
MC smiles at her reflection. This is not the way she had planned it and neither had Chris. None of it has been that way. He would have liked for a more traditional proposal, but it did not happen that way. He would love to have a traditional service, gathered in front of family and friends, and that will happen someday, just not at this time. Chris and MC agreed to make their nuptials official in a small private ceremony before putting together a larger reception to exchange vows in front of their loved ones later.
On the plane ride from New York to Las Vegas, Chris worried MC would feel cheated. There would not be any one to walk her down the aisle, no bride’s maids or matron of honor, no flower girls or ring bearers: Just them and the wedding officiant. He worried he was robbing her of her dream again with another last minute idea.
MC reached over from her plane seat and stroked his face. “I wouldn’t be on this plane right now if that was what I was worried about Chris. I love you and I’m ready,” she said. He kissed her lips, taking her hand as she laid her head in his shoulder.
Staring back at the vision of herself in the white lace gown, the realness of what is about to take place strikes her. She is not filled with fear or apprehension, but instead she feels eager and inclined. She is marrying Chris Powell, the love of her life, without hesitation.
The sleeveless, sweetheart bodice of the dress is detailed in lace that creates a silhouette of her frame. The flared skirt and lace train add elegance and a soft, silk sash cinches the waist. Irma disappears for a few minutes, returning and lifting wrinkled hands to display the crystal head dress. MC smiles at her and nods as she stoops down, allowing the elderly woman to place it onto her head and into her hair.
“Do you want the traditional veil?” Irma asks.
The question makes MC chuckle. Irma blinks at her confused. Everything about all of this has been so untraditional; a detail in clothing would be the only hint at their nod to procedure.
“Yes,” MC grins.
Irma disappears out a side door again and returns a few minutes later. She attaches the veil to the headdress and then fluffs it out all around MC’s face and head. When she steps to the side, MC’s mouth falls opens.
“Prince charming is gonna bust his pants when he sees you!” Irma claps.
***
She had one stipulation.
He could not see her before the wedding. After they landed in Las Vegas, dropping their things off at the Wynn hotel, MC and Chris parted ways. With the help of a driver provided by the hotel, Chris visited the Mon Bel Ami wedding chapel in Las Vegas, shortly before heading to a custom tuxedo shop in town to get fitted and finding another jewelry shop.
She left in another chauffeured car, waving to him before they headed out on their separate missions.
After finding her gown, MC spent the rest of the afternoon in the hotel’s spa, getting pampered with a manicure and pedicure and a relaxing massage before getting her hair and makeup done. She took her dress, shoes and accessories with her to the chapel to dress there.
Chris had not expected to be the jittery mess that he was. He had paced their hotel room, wondering over and over again if he was doing his bride a disservice with their Las Vegas wedding. He wanted this, more than anything, but he worried that he was being a bit overzealous and anxious in advocating for the private wedding before the larger formal one.
As soon as he sees her, those worries float away into the night time desert breeze.
The sun is setting on Las Vegas as Chris, Pastor Kevin Scott, and the owners of Mon Bel Ami, Tom and Lindsey Bolton, stand under the gazebo in the courtyard next to the chapel.
White candles flicker on top of candelabras lining a long center aisle. The wrought iron gazebo is draped with white fabric across the top and globe string lights circle the edge of the canopy, casting a twinkling white light down onto the people standing below. Chris ordered elaborate white and red rose arrangements that stand on either side of the gazebo.
A worker inside cues the bridal march and Chris’s back straightens.
A door opens and MC glides out and begins her pace up the aisle. Chris has no idea that he has stopped breathing. In the flickering candlelight and the orange hue of the fading sun, MC steps methodically towards him as the music plays. Chris does not hear it. He only sees. He sees the breathtaking beauty of his MC walking towards him to become his wife.
Her face is covered by the veil, but even through the sheer material, he can see her radiant smile, pearly and full of life, even obscured slightly from him. She carries in her hands a bouquet of deep red roses. Pastor Scott looks at the young man in front of him. He and the Bolton’s recognized Chris as soon as he entered the chapel that morning. He stressed their discretion in what would take place that night, offering to pay extra if it would keep it out of the news. Chris looked like a man in love when they first met him, now as they each studied his reaction to his bride, they knew without a doubt he was a man whose heart had been lassoed by this young woman.
MC steps to Chris’s side, halting her bridal march, peering up at him through the veil. The music fades and Chris reaches down, lifting the veil up over her head and back. He reaches up, his fingertips tracing delicately over her jawline, in awe. He leans in and kisses her softly, in a way MC has never felt before. Everything around them fades from her attention, her eyes closing as Chris sweeps his lips over hers.
Pastor Scott purses his lips together and hmph’s to get their attention. He then clears his throat.
Chris pulls back, his fingers still gently cradling MC’s face, staring back at her, his eyes heavy with a mixture of love and lust.
“We aren’t quite there yet, son,” Pastor Scott says.
MC hears the words, waking her from the trance Chris has put her in and lets out a happy gasp before she smiles.
Chris blushes and turns and looks at the Bolton’s and the pastor. “Uh…sorry,” he says, his face coloring before he laughs. He turns his attention back to MC, who is beaming with happiness.
“Let’s say we get started so you can get to that part pretty quickly,” Pastor Scott winks.
Lindsey Bolton takes MC’s bouquet from her hands and she and Chris face one other, their hands joined together.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this evening to witness this man and this woman joining together in holy matrimony,” Pastor Scott begins.
Chris’s eyes move over MC’s face, photographing her mentally in that moment. For the rest of his life, he never wants to forget the details of her face on the night she became his wife.
“Chris, repeat after me,” Pastor Scott instructs. The sound of his name brings Chris’s attention back to the speaker at his side. He follows the words of Pastor Scott. “I, Christopher Powell, take you, MC, to be my lawfully wedded wife, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my love from this day forward.”
MC’s lips part as she exhales slowly. She stares fixedly at Chris. She had hoped and prayed some day they would end up here. From the moment he came crashing into her life, quite literally, as soon as she stepped onto the campus of Hartfeld University, through the ups and downs of a maturing relationship, she had always hoped for this very moment. Now, the most beautiful set of blue eyes in the world to her are looking deeply into her own, committing the rest of his life to hers. Overcome with emotion, she feels tears coming to her eyes.
“I offer my solemn vow, to be your faithful partner, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise,” Chris pauses and swallows down the lump in his throat as pools of water form in his eyes. “I promise to love you, unconditionally,” he stresses squeezing her hands, “to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you,” he chuckles at the irony of the situation as both their eyes water, “and to cherish you sweetheart for as long as we both shall live.”
It is MC that must now fight off the urge to kiss him.
MC follows Pastor Scott’s words, repeating the same vows Chris made to her. When she is done, Tom Bolton steps forward, handing Chris their rings. MC glances at his palm, noticing not just one, but three rings in his hand.
He slides her engagement ring onto her finger, before smiling and sliding a wedding band on over it. The gold circle is filled with diamonds and slides on just over the top of the ring they picked together.
“Chris….” MC blinks and looks up at him. He winks at the surprise before handing her the wedding band he bought. MC slides it onto Chris’s finger, before they grasp hands, smiling like lovesick fools.
“With the power invested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you man and wife,” Pastor Scott smiles. He pauses, clutching the Bible in his hand and waiting. Chris cocks an eyebrow and looks over at him, before MC turns her head to eye the man suspiciously.
“Oh, were you two waiting on me?” he teases. “Chris, you may now kiss your bride.”
MC can remember distinctly three times when Chris smiled at her and it she felt like the most beautiful and accomplished woman in the world. The first time, was just before he kissed her on the roof of their suite, sealing their fate as a couple. The second time was just a few days ago, when they reunited at Derek Burkley’s party. After making love in one of the upstairs bedrooms, Chris whispered he loved her and smiled before placing a soft kiss on her lips.
The third time was right now. The smile on his face full of every ounce of joy and love they have ever felt for each other over the years.
His lips descends upon hers and she reaches up, looping her arms around his neck, pulling him down as she rises on her heels to meet his mouth. He grips her hips in his hands, pulling her body against his. There is restraint in his kiss. They are being watched and though he wants to let the arousal he feels for his wife overtake them both, he knows there is a time and place for that ahead.
He cannot wait to get there.
He pulls back, their breaths shaking, feeling both exhilarated and tortured. He leans his forehead against hers.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you too,” she smiles.
***
Chris presses the button and the divider in the limo rises, giving them a few more minutes of privacy as they head back to the sky loft at the hotel.
MC sips her flute of champagne, leaning against Chris.
“Can you believe we did this? We got married in Vegas!” MC laughs, throwing her head back. Her eyes close as she lets out the hardy laugh. Chris smiles as he watches her. “Zack is going to freak. Do you hear me? He will absolutely freak out.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Chris chuckles. “I will have a lot of explaining to do to a whole lot of people when we get back. But let’s not worry about that right now Mrs. Powell,” he says.
“I like the sound of that,” she grins and looks at him.
His contented smile is laced with something else. There is peace on his face but there is yearning in his gaze. MC giggles from the celebratory champagne but it fades into silence as she stares back at her husband. Chris drags his hawkish gaze from her eyes to her lips.
He reaches up, gently placing a hand on her cheek, running his thumb across her lower lip. MC watches him, her breath becoming shallow at the softness of his touch. Such a small show of affection has an unnervingly erotic impact on her body. She feels a tingle between her legs as she looks into his blue eyes. Her eyes become heavy and to Chris’s satisfied surprise, she parts her mouth, lowering her head and taking Chris’s thumb between her parted lips and sucking gently.
He gulps as he watches her, an uneven breath escaping his lips.
MC gives a devilish grin as she moves her mouth off of his thumb. Taking one last long sip she empties her champagne flute. She sits the empty glass down on the bar in the limo, staring back at her husband.
Chris leans forward, his body partially rolling on top of hers as his lips crush into hers. The restraint is gone. He moves his mouth against hers without abandon, his hand reaching into her hair and yanking slightly. When she gasps he seizes the opportunity, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Chris is not drunk on champagne but on MC. His only desire now is to feel her, to be inside of her; to make love to his wife for the very first time.
Savoring the sweet taste of her lips from the champagne, his fingers run over the layers of lace, in a desperate search for her flesh. He grips at the bodice, squeezing a breast gently at first before his grasp becomes more desperate. MC’s head tosses back and he runs his lips down her chin, down the thin flesh of her throat, nipping and sucking, drawing a low moan from her.
“MC,” Chris groans and sits up. “I can’t wait,” he shakes his head looking into her eyes. “Baby, I can’t wait.”
She only needs a moment to process his words. Her blissful countenance is replaced by devilment in her eyes. She nods, kissing him hard in return and pushing him back to sit upright on the limo seat. She reaches out, grasping the buckle of his belt, skillfully her fingers unfasten it before unbuttoning the pants of his tuxedo and tugging the zipper down. As her fingers move, she can already feel the hardness in his pants brushing against the back of her hand.
MC frees his hardness and Chris shifts on the leather seat, his head resting against the back as his breathing quickens and becomes a yearning pant.
“Right now?” She asks taking him in her hands and squeezing. His eyes slam shut and he grunts.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Yes, right now!” He nods and licks his lips, breathing hard.
MC straddles his waist in the back of the limo, Chris helping to move the lace of her gown up towards her hips. MC slides the center of her panties to the side, Chris taking himself in his hand and guiding him to her entrance.
As she lowers her hot wetness down onto him, they both cry out in satisfaction. She rests her head on his shoulder as he slides deep into her. The head dress and veil on her head sliding partially off her hair as they begin to move together.
She grabs the bottom of her dress, keeping it lifted as Chris grips each of her hips in his hands and begins to thrust upwards. The movements start slow and rhythmic at first, but soon he is forcing his hips up to meet hers without control.
MC bounces on his lap wildly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she hangs on. As he thrusts up, she begins to move down against him, finding the choreography that sends them to ecstasy.
MC lifts her head, looking into Chris eyes as they both moan, their cries getting louder. They are sure the driver can hear but they don’t care. MC’s body begins to tremble. Chris reaches up, grasping her hair in both his hands and pulling her forehead against his.
“Yes! Chris! Ungh!” She says through gritted teeth.
There is only passion in her eyes and the insatiable need for release. Chris marvels at this woman. No matter what it is that they have done together in the last week, she has shown no fear.
He lets go of her hips, sliding his hand under her dress and squeezing her bottom, feeling the flesh shake as she bounces on his lap.
He closes his eyes for just a minute as pleasure ripples through his thighs and into his belly.
“Chris!” MC tosses her head back. “I’m there!” She says. She closes her mouth, burying her face in his neck as a scream emits when her orgasm races through her body. Chris feels her convulse as he wraps his arms around her.
With one more hard upward thrusts, he lets go, spilling himself inside of her. He grips her hair, pulling her face into his neck as his other arm squeezes around her back.
“MC….” He breathes out.
He holds her in his lap, gently wrapping her in a sweet embrace, running his fingers up and down her back as she regains her strength. After a few breathless minutes, she sits up, looking into his eyes. She kisses his lips.
“Mr. Powell,” she sighs happily.
“Mrs. Powell,” he chuckles and cups her face.