The 6p.m. reception would be held for 265 guests. This would be the party of the year, according to most. Mason gave her a budget for the reception, and she blew through it like a late summer’s hurricane in the gulf. Fortunately, the Cohen’s kicked in some of the costs to help out. And, who could blame Rachel? Her first wedding to the late Victor Baines saw the Hesperia’s traitors attack her and her new husband, and completely destroy the reception with a laser battle. She spent her wedding night in surgery, assisting Dr. Hassan, operating on the seriously wounded. Dozens were killed. Mason was the Prime Marine who protected Captain Baines and his new bride, saving their lives, and many of the lives of their guests so long ago.
The plan was to wear their formal mess dress for their wedding, then come upstairs and change into tuxedo and ball gown for the reception. Many of their friends would also be changing into black tie apparel for the reception. Mason was planning on dancing as much as they wanted, and those tall boots would never work for a samba.
Shopping for Mason’s tuxedo was fairly simple. He took Rachel to the upscale men’s clothier where he’d bought his new designer suits. He chose the classic design of the very first tux he tried on. Shopping for her ball gown was another matter. It tried his patience to watch her try on gown after gown, and reject them all. They visited every bridal boutique and designer shop in Houston. Finally, their third Saturday of ball gown shopping bore fruit. A window display caught Mason’s eye; inside was the most beautiful gown he’d ever seen.
The dress was a white single shoulder design, the fabric draping down from that one shoulder over her breasts. The waistline featured a wide, freshwater pearl panel of white silk sewn with pure silver threads that only a woman with a very flat stomach could wear; it looked perfect on Rachel. The floor-length lower half of the gown’s fabric gathered just enough to swirl and flow, yet show off her perfect figure. The top of the shoulder strap was embellished with more freshwater pearls. The dress was the masterpiece of the young fashion designer whose shop they visited. He came out to fit her himself, and he was thrilled to see her wear his gown.
Everything was ready in their honeymoon suite. Mason bought a wedding present to surprise her: a 3 carat diamond necklace, set in his platinum. It would lie on her neck where her left hand always went to when she got turned on. She could rub that diamond absentmindedly as she watched him working out. He put it in the hotel safe for later.
Little Victor was the ring bearer, of course. He would be in a black tux, like Mason’s. Rachel’s Father would walk her down the aisle and give her away. At her first wedding, Mason walked her down the aisle, his heart in his throat, and gave her to another man, his friend and Captain, Victor Baines. Now she was his.
Sarah and her family arrived from Mars Colony III with barely enough time to make the wedding rehearsal. The family dined at a local restaurant together. Caitlin noticed Mason was unusually quiet and reserved, and ate very little. He seemed distracted the entire night. She could not have known what his thoughts were.
Mason noticed Rachel was glowing. At first he chalked it up to her excitement about the wedding; then he remembered her looking the same way several years ago. She looked like she was, dare he even think about it, pregnant. But how could she be pregnant with his baby if he had a vasectomy? Did the forced procedure fail? It had to be his. Would his baby carry some reptilian gene, and be a lizard baby? He determined to find out for sure after the ceremony and reception. He swore he would do nothing to put a damper on her celebration.
Mason and Rachel went to bed early as they had all week, sans sex, to better enjoy their wedding night. He was up and running at daybreak. She went to the hotel spa with her Mother, Amanda Baines and Sarah. Mason showered, shaved, and put on his mess dress. He was out of their room by noon.
2:45p.m., time to take their places in the chapel. Rachel had a surprise wedding gift for Mason: a magnificent, custom-made Space Marine Captain’s sword. Sarah handed it to him in an ornate mahogany box. His eyes opened wide. It was the most beautiful carved scabbard he’d ever seen. He pulled his sword out, and on it was etched: “To My Greatest Love.” Mason was in tears.
He checked the sword’s balance with one finger, and it was perfect. Unlike most officer’s swords, which were ceremonial and unsharpened, his sword’s edge was razor-sharp. A warrior’s sword made by a true master craftsman. He proudly attached the sword to his belt.
3:00p.m., and the processional began. Caitlin was beautiful and beaming with pride. Little Victor walked in and did his part perfectly. Admiral Rachel Mason was in formal military mess dress, with gold braids and full ribboned medals on her white jacket, including her Bronze Star. Her hair was impeccable, and she wore just a touch of make-up. She was escorted by her proud Father. She joined Mason, both of them enraptured with each other. They retook their wedding vows, put on their platinum rings again, were pronounced husband and wife, and kissed beautifully; a storybook wedding, for certain.
The officers were called to raise swords, Space Marines on one side, and Space Forces on the other, as the happy couple walked under them: “Announcing Captain and Mrs. Mason!” Little Victor was right behind them, walking tall and proud. Everyone cheered and applauded. They mingled briefly and returned to their suite to relax and change. She admired him in his crimson red mess dress, his neck bedecked with the two highest medals any military man or woman could receive: the Silver Star, and the URE Medal of Honor. His other medals were all hanging on ribbons on his chest. Her husband wore more medals than anyone she’d ever seen. “My champion,” she proudly said, lightly touching his new Silver Star. He drew his new sword and showed it to her.
“Thank you for my magnificent sword, Rachel,” Mason said proudly. He read aloud its inscription, “To My Greatest Love.”
“You are my greatest love, John. I will love you always, with all my heart.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly, and he responded passionately to her. She delicately removed the ribboned Silver Star and Medal of Honor and unbuttoned his cutaway coat for him. She hung up his uniform and Mason went into the closet to the hotel room safe. He took out the pale blue box from Tiffany’s, and brought it out to her.
“I had this made for you to wear with your white ball gown, Rachel,” he told her.
“You already gave me a very generous wedding gift, John.” She slowly opened the box. When she saw the stone inside, she gasped. “John! Is this for me? It’s so big! Oh, John, put it on me, please!” Mason gently put it around her neck.
She ran to the mirror to admire her necklace, and began to cry. “Don’t you like it, Rachel?” She turned to face him, and put her arms around him.
“I love it. No man has ever been more generous and giving to me than you, John. I married you because I love you; not for diamonds, platinum, or wealth. You’re so good to me, John. The necklace is spectacular. I can’t wait to see it with my gown on!” She cried, and kissed him again. “Unzip my skirt, John.” He unzipped the long skirt and she took it off.
Mason smiled and said, “You’re out of uniform, Admiral. Got those frilly garters on again.” Mason’s eyes were twinkling. Good God, but she is sexy. And I just married her—again. He lightly put his hands around her waist and began to kiss her neck. She responded warmly.
“I thought we were going to wait until tonight, John,” she said, loving his kisses. Mason ran his hands over her gorgeous legs.
“I want you now, Rachel,” he said, running his hand down her side to her panties, which he began to remove. He backed her up until she reached the bed, laid her down, and began kissing her. The bed was in full view of the inner suite door, open slightly. Their main suite door was closed, but not bolted. Mason used his tongue and mouth on her, and enjoyed pleasing his wife. Mason noticed the inner door open slightly and a woman’s arm reached in to pick up a small purse on the table next to the door. He kept up his lovemaking, but watched the door, as Caitlin peeked in and instantly blushed a very deep red. The door was pulled back
quickly. Mason knew his bride didn’t know what happened.
Rachel pulled him beside her while she caught her breath. She slowly pleasured her husband. They lay in total bliss, in the afterglow of their oral sex, and drank champagne. They continued kissing and petting, and decided to save intercourse for later that night.
The grand reception hall was nearly full with their family and guests. When Mason and Rachel entered together, the entire crowd stood and applauded. “My queen,” Mason whispered to her. She was radiant in her designer gown and full make-up, with her “smoky eyes” Mason loved. He looked striking in his tuxedo; tall, very handsome, with wide shoulders and a perfect physique.
The beautiful couple went to the middle of the dance floor. The band played a lovely, old fashioned waltz, and Mason led her all around the floor. She truly was stunning, her designer gown twirling and swirling, fitting her perfect figure as closely as her lover’s caress. Mason made no attempt to hide his love for her. They finished their First Dance, and bowed to the cheering crowd. More lively music played, and the guests got up to dance.
“My child, I will always remember how you look tonight,” David said, tears running down his face. He came over and kissed her on the cheek.
“Johnnie, Mom and Dad would have been so proud of you. You danced every step perfectly, and so did you, Rachel. You were both beautiful! No dance is more graceful than a waltz!” Sarah said, smiling at them.
“May I have this dance, Caitlin?” Mason asked. She got up to dance with him. Rachel took her Father’s hand to dance with him, as well.
Caitlin quietly slipped an electronic room key into Mason’s pocket. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, Caitlin Cohen. It’s a shameless woman that you are,” Mason began in his best Irish brogue. She gave him such a guilty look.
“I forgot my purse, that’s all, John Mason.” Caitlin lowered her eyes.
“Yes, I know you did, Mother-in-law. But you nearly interrupted your only daughter’s bliss on her wedding day. Now aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” Mason whispered in her ear.
Caitlin put her head down on his chest. “That I am. You’re not going to tell her, are you, John? I’d never forgive myself if you did—or you!” She hit him squarely on his chest with her fist, blushing the brightest red Mason had ever seen. He laughed out loud.
“Daddy, why is Momma hitting John? Look—she’s blushing!” Rachel asked her Father.
“I have no idea, child,” he answered, looking at his wife.
“Begosh and begorrah, Caitlin! What kind of man do you take me for? A heartless fool? My bride will never know about her peek-a-boo Momma from me!” Mason told her.
“Thank you, John,” Caitlin said, and she gave him a little kiss. Mason smiled at her.
“Now, the question is: did he wash his face afterwards, or not?” Caitlin blushed, and hit him again, and Mason laughed even harder. She finally laughed with him, and danced.
“Daddy, did you see that?” Rachel asked. He nodded his head “yes.”
When the dance ended, Caitlin escaped to the powder room, with Rachel trotting behind her. Mason laughed so hard he nearly doubled over, then took Sarah to dance with him. He danced her over to Commandant Richardson, and introduced her, asking him to dance with her. “How is it Mason dances so well, Sarah?”
“Our parents were professional dancers, Commandant. Johnnie and I learned from the best. Since he was my little brother, he became my steady dance partner until my last year in high school. He’s very light on his feet,” she explained.
“As are you, my dear,” the Commandant said, enjoying himself.
Two dances went by before Rachel and Caitlin returned. “John, my Mother is exasperating! She won’t tell me what you said to make her blush and hit you when you danced. What did you say to her?” Rachel asked, smiling at him.
“It’s our little secret, Rachel. Now come, Admiral Worthington is biding his time, waiting to dance with my beautiful bride,” Mason said. He took her over to him, and the Admiral happily danced with her.
After the delicious meal was cleared away, General Costa stepped up and announced: “Ladies and gentlemen; honorable bride and groom. It is time to meet the dancers and musicians from the Café do Rio. We will entertain you and dance the samba with you—the dance of love!” The club musicians hit their drums as six dance couples came onto the floor, and the music started. The men wore black pants, white jackets, and shirts. The women wore full length, very tight dresses. The men twirled the women around while holding their skirts, tearing their skirts off them. The women dancers placed their hands on the men’s shirts, and ripped them off in one movement. Rachel applauded wildly, as did most of the guests. The dancers performed their samba routine, and ended with the girls on the floor, in a submissive position at their partner’s feet.
Then the dancers went into the crowd, taking some of the guests to dance with them. Rachel’s Senior Command Women practiced this for three weeks. They danced well. Mason stood, held out his hand to Rachel, and said, “Dance with me, my Samba Queen!”
Rachel and Mason danced the samba like pros. Her parents were in awe, and the Baines were amazed. Mason got tapped by his teenage nephew, and Johnnie stepped right in. “You’re awesome, Aunt Rachel!” His Mother taught him well.
The samba party lasted about forty-five minutes. At the last, everyone sat down, and let the dancers close out the show, except for General Costa. “Mason, you will dance with me, and dance well. Motumbo needs his batteries charged tonight!” She pulled him onto the dance floor, and Lt. Colonel Motumbo took the seat next to Rachel.
“She likes to make me jealous. It pleases her,” Motumbo explained to Rachel. He sat down to watch them. Rachel watched, too.
General Costa was a very polished dancer; tall, slim, and in a tight dress slit up the side. Mason only thought he knew how to samba; she showed him moves he never saw before. The club dancers gathered around them and did their closing routine, as General Costa put Mason through his advanced samba lesson. No doubt about who was leading whom. At the end, she fully extended her arm and rolled into him, as she threw her long muscular bare leg out at Motumbo. Everyone stood and applauded.
She returned Mason to Rachel. “You are the most fortunate of women, my friend Rachel. Your husband kept pace with me the entire dance. Now come, Motumbo, while the fire is still in your eyes!” Motumbo left with her, smiling and charged up for another night.
Mason admitted, “Pretty close to assault, I think.” They all laughed; everyone but Rachel.
“Did she wear you out, husband?” She asked, a little jealousy showing.
“Not hardly. She just wanted to make Motumbo jealous. Some men like it. Some men, it hurts,” he said. “Motumbo likes it.”
As a slower song was played by the regular band, Mason took his wife on the dance floor. She was a little stiff; he smiled at her, pulled her closer, and began whispering in her ear. “Who’s the most beautiful woman in Houston tonight?” She was softening a little. He went for her other ear. “In whose arms we will find Paradise tonight? Who is my woman—my love—my wife?” She finally relaxed and held him tightly, and put her head on his shoulder. “You are my woman, Rachel. You are my life, my love. Now and always.”
The reception eventually ended. Victor fell sound asleep, and Mason picked him up to carry him to the Baines’ room. The family rode in the lift together, tired and happy. Rachel and Mason retired to their honeymoon suite.
Rachel bought him a full length black silk robe and pajama bottoms for tonight. He loved the way they felt against his skin. Mason went outside on the terrace and looked up at the stars. He spent so many years in space on assignments he mostly cared nothing about any more, except the Hesperia, where he met Rachel eleven years ago. Finally, they were together, as husband and wife. The romance that on the Hesperia could never be was now theirs. Such passion, and such great love as theirs, would not be without occasional pitfalls. Mason prayed God would let them endure through whatever came their way. “Please l
et us last for all time, dear God.”
“Amen,” Rachel said, and went into his arms. They stared into each other’s eyes, and Rachel began to touch his face. “My handsome man, my champion. My greatest love.”
Mason touched her face gently; she was glowing. She was radiant in the moonlight. Did she know? He surely knew she was pregnant. “My Rachel, my love,” was all he could say, and kissed her tenderly. Mason put his big hands inside her robe, and teased her naked body. She caressed him, touching his robe and its silkiness over his hard muscles. He took her into his arms, lifted and cradled her, driving her mad with his kisses all over her body. The night was spent making love, tantalizing and pleasing each other. She nestled in his arms and went to sleep.
But Mason could not sleep. Rachel was sensuous and passionate, yes, as a rule. But tonight, she made love to him as if charged with a strong current of electricity. She could not hold him close enough. She would be sore tomorrow, like on Costa Rica. How long ago was Costa Rica? Only two and one half months ago. Oh well, maybe he was all wrong; this was a magic night. But Mason’s intuition was rarely wrong.
Mason finally fell asleep, dreaming of Costa Rica, and lizards. He awoke with a start, Rachel shaking him gently. “John, wake up. Wake up, John.” He sat up in the hotel bed. “You kept saying ‘lizard baby,’ or something like that. Do you remember?”
He was soaked in sweat and shaken. He did remember; he’d dreamed they’d had a lizard baby. His fault, as a result of his altering with the alien DNA. What a horrible nightmare.
“Yes, I remember. I’m, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep. I’m going to take a shower,” Mason said. He went into the shower, blasting all the jets on him to rid himself of the nightmare. He stayed up, afraid to go back to sleep. Mason straightened their rooms, packed, and sat on the terrace. Damn that Yellow Man!
Vengeance of Sukesh: John Mason (Legend of John Mason) Page 20
