Experiment in Terror 09 Dust to Dust(89)

When that was over and we stuffed ourselves with food, it was time for the first dance. Only our first dance was a bit different.

Dex led me out to the dance floor and whirled me around, no sound. Then he grinned at me and went over to the DJ, who handed him a wireless microphone. After a moment, the music, a slow but familiar piano melody, started playing.

“What the hell?” I whispered to him. “I thought we were dancing to Led Zeppelin?”

He kept on grinning. “Not a chance,” he said and then the music came in louder. It was none other than Herb Alpert’s “This Guy’s In Love With You” but covered by Faith No More. He removed his jacket and whirled it somewhere into the crowd of people, someone crying out as if they were smacked in the face with it. I hoped there wouldn’t be a potential lawsuit.

He put his arm around me and he microphone up to his mouth.

“They say this guy’s,” he sang deeply with a wide, cocky grin, “this guy’s in love with you.”

I was instantly transported back to Seattle, when he and I weren’t even dating yet, at the Christmas party for Shownet. Rebecca had been there, Dean and Seb, too. Dex had delivered the most amazing karaoke rendition of this song, something that knocked me on my ass and made me realize just how much I had fallen for him and what I would go through to get him.

Now it was pretty much doing the same thing. But this time, he was singing it to me, no mistake, and dancing at the same time. Our first dance and I was being serenaded.

He leaned back, eyes closed in passion, and belted out, “I need your love. I want your love.” He looked at me, deep in the eyes and sang with perfection, the kind of powerful, confident voice that soared to the heavens, “Say you’re in love with this guy.”

I could only grin right back him. My heart had melted somewhere inside me and I was just this pile of newly married goo. I’d never felt more swoony in my life and I was swooning all for him. My husband.

Needless to say, it was hard to keep my hands off of him for the rest of the reception. Somewhere between The Chicken Dance and the Deftones, we fucked off to the bathroom for a little fun. Unfortunately, the bathrooms were occupied and when we finally found a corner of the hotel where I could ride him up against the wall, we were interrupted by Ada, who was a bit drunk and looking for some guy called Jay.

The sex had to wait. I suppose it made it more special that way, though in my mind it was hard to get more special than being fucked in a wedding gown. I mean, there are only so many times you can have that happen.

So we went back to reception and watched as the guests grew tired and retreated to their rooms or the very long drive back to Seattle. Dex even managed to talk to his dad and stepmother for about a half hour while I was doing makeshift beer pong with Tony and Matt. It was nice, just knowing that despite everything and everyone we had lost, we still had our families and were about to start a new one.

When there was just ten drunks milling around on the dance floor to all the bad songs, Dex and I quickly left, like we were fleeing the scene of a crime. It was late and we were unbelievably tired and if we were going to consummate this marriage, we had to do it now.

We went up to our suite – gorgeous and spacious – and he carried me through the door in his arms before depositing me on the bed

“Well, well, well,” he said, grabbing under my dress and pulling me towards the edge of the frame. “This is the first time I get to sleep with Mrs. Dex Foray. She’s sexier than I had imagined.”

“You better believe it,” I told him, spreading my legs wider. I was wearing sky blue lace panties. My borrowed was the sparkle pins in my hair, the old was my engagement ring and the new was my dress. I had at least made some kind of an effort.

I’d also gotten a full-on bikini wax. There was that too.

Dex pulled off my underwear with his teeth and then moaned with admiration.

“I think I’m going to like married life a lot,” he murmured before his tongue snaked up the inside of my thighs.

“Me too,” I said, my hips automatically arching for his tongue.

He didn’t disappoint. He never did.

We fucked, made love, had sex as husband and wife. It felt better than I could have ever thought. Our relationship was consummated. Things were reborn. They were given life and new beginnings. We were given hope for the future.

And afterward, while I lay there in his arms, me his wife and he my husband, I realized I didn’t know what the future held. But I knew it held Dex.

And that was more than good enough for me.

That was everything.