"We're willing to take the flack from that if you are," Celia said. "You're a very dear friend and both of us want you to be there on our most important day. Right, Greg?"
"I couldn't have put it better," Greg agreed.
"I'm not one to worry about my image," Jake said. "I think people make too much of such a thing myself. But I do want to make sure that you're not just doing this to be polite. If you'd rather that I don't accept your invitation, my feelings won't be hurt in the least."
"We're not doing this to be polite, Jake," Celia said. "Our invitation is sincere. We would be honored if you would be there with us."
Jake nodded. He wasn't quite sure about Greg — Greg was a hard person to read — but Celia seemed as sincere as she claimed. "In that case," he said, "I would be happy to attend. I'll make sure to keep that date on my calendar clear." He turned to Helen. "What about you, Helen? Can you keep June 15th open?"
"Uh... sure, of course," she said, prudently not adding, assuming that we're still together in six months. That was, of course, a question that was still open to debate since the exact nature of their relationship had yet to be defined.
"It's settled then," Celia said with a little clap of her hands. "We'll send you the official invitation as soon as they go out. And there's one other thing I wanted to ask you, Jake."
"What's that?"
"Will you sing at the wedding?"
"You want me to sing?" he asked, raising his eyebrows a bit.
"And play your guitar," she said. "I'd love to have you strum something out and sing during the ceremony."
"Uh... well... what do you want me to sing?" he asked. "I'm sure you don't want me going up there and pounding out an unplugged version of Who Needs Love? or It's In The Book, do you?"
"Well... no, not exactly," Celia said with a giggle. "I was thinking something soft, gentle, romantic."
"I don't think I have any songs that fit that description," Jake said doubtfully.
"It doesn't have to be one of your songs," Celia told him. "You can sing something from another artist if you want. I was just thinking... you know... something that symbolizes love and commitment."
"I could get in a lot of trouble for singing another artist's song at a public ceremony," Jake said. "You know how our contracts are written. Technically I could even get in trouble for singing at all in a public place without National's permission."
Celia looked a little dejected. "You are right about that," she said. "I understand if you don't feel comfortable doing it."
"No no," Jake said. "I didn't say that. I just said I couldn't do another artist's tune. I could still sing something of my own. National might throw a bitch about it — they did that to me once when I sang for some of my co-workers when I was working at the restaurant while we were recording Descent Into Nothing — but we wield a little more power these days then we used to. I seriously doubt they would push the issue in any way."
"What could you sing if you can't sing another artist's work?" Greg asked. "No offense, Jake, but I don't think any of your current work is quite appropriate for what we have in mind here."
"Well then," Jake said, "I guess I'll just have to write you two a wedding song myself."
Greg simply nodded, as if he thought that was a pretty good idea. Celia, on the other hand, was very touched by the offer. As a fellow songwriter, she understood how personal of a gesture this entailed.
"You would do that for us?" she asked, almost tearfully.
"What are friends for?" Jake asked her.
Chapter 9B
After finishing up their cognac on the deck, the desert wind started to kick up a bit, turning the temperature from brisk to pretty damn cold. They retreated inside the house where Greg suggested they have a few more cocktails in the entertainment room.
"Before we do that," Celia said, "is it okay if we get out of these damn dressy clothes and into something a little more comfortable?"
"Something more comfortable?" Greg asked, a little taken aback by the suggestion — it was Greg, after all, who had specified in the invitation that dress would be semi-formal for dinner.
"Damn right," Celia said. "I, for one, am sick of this dress. It's tight around my boobs and it makes my skin itch. We're among friends here. How about we go throw on some jeans and T-shirts?"
"Uh... well... if everyone else would like to," Greg said, obviously not very hot about dressing down.
"What do you think, Helen?" Celia asked. "Ready to go full casual for the rest of the night?"
Helen wasn't quite sure how to respond. "Well... it would be nice to a little more comfortable." She had noticed Greg taking more than casual interest in the view of her cleavage on several occasions — which thrilled her on one level but made her a little leery on another.
"I gotta vote for the jeans too," Jake said, before he was asked. He just hated wearing dress clothes when it wasn't necessary.
Greg knew when he was outnumbered. "All right then," he said, giving in. "Let's go find some jeans."
They went upstairs to change. Jake got in a few good gropes of Helen's breasts when she pulled off her strapless bra to put on a regular one. She slapped his hand away, but not too forcefully. His touch was turning her on.
"Can I have just a little suck on one nipple?" he asked, giving her puppy-dog eyes.
"Jake," she said, exasperated, "they're waiting for us down there."
"Just one suck?" he repeated. "It'll tide me over until we hit the rack."
"Oh... I guess just one wouldn't hurt," she said.
She fed her left breast to him and he latched onto her erect nipple, tonguing it and suckling it. She didn't push him away. Before long his fingers were down the front of her panties, sliding between her very wet lips, and her hand was in his underwear, palpating his erection hotly. When he bent her over the bed and pulled her panties down to her knees, she raised her butt up to allow proper positioning.
Jake slid into her from behind and pounded her quickly and forcefully, holding onto her hips hard enough to leave red finger marks on her flesh. She came very quickly, not squirting on him, but juicing up enough that her secretions dripped onto the floor and saturated his testicles. He came right after, pulling her body tightly against his.
"I can't believe I just did that in Greg Oldfellow's guest suite," she panted as he disengaged from her. She looked down at herself and gasped. "Oh my God! I need to clean myself up!" She glared at Jake in a friendly, sexually semi-satisfied way. "You're an evil man, Jake. Do you know that?"
"That's what the papers all say," Jake said, pushing his own underwear to the floor.
Both of them went into the bathroom and hastily sponged off their nether regions with water from the sink. They dressed quickly in jeans, T-shirts, and tennis shoes and then headed back downstairs where Celia and Greg were waiting for them.
"Sorry we took so long," Jake said. "We... uh... had some trouble digging out the casual clothes."
Greg didn't bat an eye. "Understandable," he said. "I don't know how you managed to fit enough traveling clothes into two small suitcases."
Celia, on the other hand, gave them a knowing look and an amused smile. "I glad you managed to finally put things together," she said.
"Well... you know how it is," Helen said, blushing.
"Yes I do," Celia agreed. "Although I'd never admit it in public."
"Huh?" Greg said, looking at her in confusion.
"Never mind, Greg," Celia said. "How about we get Jim to get some drinks going?"
Jim brought them all tall, fairly potent drinks he'd constructed at the bar. As they sipped them and started to buzz a little from the evening's alcohol intake, the conversation became a little livelier as inhibitions were dropped.
"What's the deal with Matt and that porn star?" Celia asked Jake. "Is that for real?"