Father Briar and The Angel (26 page)

“
Who do you think you are,
Moses?” Even the blizzard winds couldn’t blow away the high and
beautiful comedy in her teasing. “That makes sense. You are old
enough to be Moses, bossy enough to be Moses, spent some time in
parting the seas, and only have ten damned things to talk
about.”

At the end of their fight,
there was’’ laughter, and the laughter was awesome, and the
laughter was with God.

Father Briar did what
Julianna told him to do. He waited there for her to walk out to
him, reach out with both hands, and pull. She brought him up with
superhuman ease and they walked on three feet back to the icehouse,
guided by her eyes.

The wolf was warm and
strong, but hungry

Inside the shack, things
were soft and tender (just as the wolf enjoyed them…) as Jewels and
Cedric began making up. Kisses first, then necking. Oh! What a
thing ‘necking’ was in those halcyon early fifties.

In between their kisses,
she wrapped and warmed his leg, and made sure the rest of his body
was warmed by something she’d learned in her emergency medical
training during her WAC days as “core to core contact.”

She tingled. The taste of
her sexy skin was like nothing his palate had ever experienced.
“Who knew medicine could be so sexy?” she joked, causing him to
laugh again. Even though they were on a lake, she could feel a sea
change beneath them.

They kissed and kissed
because they were already undressed. That was part of “core to core
contact.” His kisses were soft and sweet but not yet spectacular.
Until he got to her breasts. There were only a few boards, strong
and sturdy to be sure, between her and the world, the deadly, empty
world. The outside world. That her breasts were exposed in such a
dire situation made her thrilled. Was there any lady in Minnesota
naughtier than she? Surely not.

He stoked the fire again,
although there was no need. The heat of their bodies was enough to
steam up the inside of the icehouse and leave puddles on the
plywood floor.

“
How could we ever have
fought?” he wondered aloud.

“
Sometimes it is
necessary,” she counseled, “it just has to be done with
respect.”

This made him kiss her
deeper and with more passion than any dirty talk could
have.

The wolf watched Cedric and
Julianna and he licked his lips, imaging what they might taste
like.

Father Briar didn’t have
to imagine.
She’d sprayed “her signature
fragrance,” her simple Woolworth’s perfume, on her neck and he was
kissing what remained of it away. It was as arousing as the finest
French imports (which, of course, he’d never smelled, but a man can
certainly imagine) and he wished she’d wear it more
often.

“What funny things we
think of, when trapped with the ones we love,” he marveled. There
were so many dangerous and amazing things going on outside, and
here he was, thinking of his lover’s perfume. Tasting it,
too.

He longed to taste the
rest of her. She’d loosed her clothes, causing his pants to
tighten. Julianna’s full breasts swung free and he stripped her
over her shirt, taking in her trim waist, her porcelain skin made
even whiter by not seeing the sun for months of winter, and the
beginning curves of her delightful hips.

There wasn’t much visual
stimulation in the icehouse, but she was all he needed. His visual
imagination had been stimulated, memories long dormant had been
reawakened, and he thought of that same body, that body which she
so lovingly offered to him, during the other times he’d been
fortunate to be with her. That dress she wore to the barn dance,
those cute stockings she’d worn to the hockey game in Thief River
Falls, that particularly fancy church dress she wore on high
holidays and for festivals of saints.

Then his cock stiffened
again as he had flashes, memories, little mini-orgasms, after
remembering her body fully nude, and indulging his imagination. She
grabbed him and pulled him close. She could feel his hardness
pressing against her, throbbing really, and he delighted in the
anticipation of what was to come.

“There is no place for
this lust, this desire, this insatiable hunger,” he chided himself,
but then gave in again. No man, he thought, could withstand the
rapid onslaught of fire and passion that had come from kissing
her.

“But I
could no more stop kissing her than I could stop breathing,” he
thought, rationalizing his desire. Just to prove it, he held his
breath, feeling the creeping cold from outside extinguish itself in
his lungs.

He ran his fingers through
her hair, listening to her moan as he tugged and pulled at the soft
and downy tufts. Julianna’s sounds were pushing him closer and
closer to losing control of himself, and oh, how he loved
control.

Julianna and her body had
taken control of his brain. Sure, this was foolish, making love in
a little icehouse in the middle of a blizzard. Heck, everything was
foolish. Kissing her for the first time had been foolish, and
everything since then had been foolish, almost to the point of
dangerousness.

Pausing for a moment, he
reached over to the cooler, hoping to find a cold soda pop inside.
A small part of him was hoping for something stronger, maybe they
had a little brandy left?

Nope, just soda. He shared
it with Julianna, who was as hot as he was, despite the deadly
blizzard outside. It was going to be one hell of a
night.

He glanced over at the
clock above the stove and saw it was just about seven pm. It had
been dark outside so long due to the heavy snowfall that time had
lost all sense of meaning. Father Briar was pretty sure it was
Saturday night but it could have been Friday, next Wednesday, or
next month, for all he knew.

Now, savoring the icy
bottle of cola to his lips, Cedric took a long, audible gulp, his
Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallowed, and licked his lips. He
smiled down at Julianna, who was lying on a thick pile of blankets,
placed on top of a wooden pallet. He liked his makeshift bed, liked
their little love-nest.

He licked the last of the
pop off his lips, happy he could still taste her over its caramel
and sugary sweetness.

“Will I
ever find safety with this woman? Will she ever find peace with
me?” he wondered, but then dealt with such philosophical problems
in physical ways. They had to, they would be trapped under the same
small roof (and the wind was now rattling the walls) for another
day, at least. How long could it possibly last? How long could they
possibly last? He could make love for a week, at least, but after
that, he wasn’t so sure.

A dozen emotions pulsed
through him. This was a woman who’d given up a normal romance and a
normal life to be with him. That they’d ever fought shocked him and
filled him with shame. This was a woman who he’d found so desirable
that he’d betrayed the vows and promises of the Society of Jesus
for her. That he’d ever not been in love with Julianna shocked and
amazed him. This was a woman who’d moved halfway across the
country, to a frigid but fertile land, to further explore the
possibilities of their love. That he ever thought he could live
without her shocked and amazed him.

He knew that he would
protect with his life and he worried that this storm might make
that possibility real.

“No man
has ever loved a woman like I love Julianna,” Cedric thought,
knowing that was vanity, pure vanity, and that vanity was a sin.
But this was a pretty small sin and a pretty big compliment to his
lady, to boot, so he pushed guilt aside and went to kissing her
body with a renewed vigor.

She was as white, sweet
and delicious as a sugar cookie, lying on the makeshift bed.
Propping herself up on her elbows and stretching her curvy legs and
supple calves, she stared at him. Even this he found impossibly
erotic.

Cedric took all of her in
as the storm increased around them. There certainly was a storm in
his heart. He kissed her belly and her bush and her thighs and her
kneecaps and then moved up to her neck and began anew.

Growling with primitive
savagery and a feverish hunger (remarkably similar to the wolf
outside, although neither of them could know that at the time), he
eased his underpants down over his thighs and off his ankles, but
his eyes remained locked on hers. There were nearly one.

Over the past wintery
weeks, he’d memorized every measure of her body. Cedric had put his
lips on it, had tasted it, and had savored the emotions it brought
out of him. It had changed his life. A huge smile came to the lips
of the horny, committed, monogamous priest. At that moment, it
didn’t matter what she believed or he believed or the Church
believed or anybody in town or any where believed. It didn’t
matter. Only they, their desire, and their faith in their love,
still existed.

He scooted over to the
edge of the makeshift bed and pressed his body against hers, pulled
her into his arms and lay her down on the goose down pillows. He
tasted her yet again and loved it. And then he began his
smorgasbord, pressing her hips down using only the control of his
mouth. When she wiggled in ecstasy from the delight in his mouth,
he switched his dish and went to her breasts, supping on the juicy
nipples while they perked up beneath the care of his tongue. She
called out his name but the wind carried it away, out there across
the frozen lake and into the snowy, starry night.

Julianna shuddered and
sighed and wished the sensations he was giving her would never end.
He explored her body with a cartographer’s care, tracing every
change in elevation, tracing her curves and her lines and her
pathways. He kissed her from neck to navel and wild sounds caught
in her throat for a moment before escaping.

It was all so incredible
intense. Their lovemaking was heightened by the passion of the
rescue. That they had to clutch each other for warmth, to make sure
he didn’t get hypothermia, to keep his leg from getting
frostbitten, was even more arousing to her; they couldn’t stop,
even if they wanted to.

But, oh! They did not want
to.

She tangled her fingers in
his hair and guided him around her body before settling him between
her legs. He kissed her for a while, then she felt his finger
replace his tongue and she cried out in delight.

“Cedric!” her eyes flew open after being pressed shut from
the intensity of the passion. “Cedric!” she cried again.

Father Briar gave no
indication that he’d heard his lover (and his rescuer) scream his
name. He continued with the same gentle insistence that he’d
started with, making her passion rise and rise.

He tickled her with his
tongue in the places only he knew, that she’d allowed only him. As
she liked, he lifted her from the bed drawing her even closer to
him, sliding his tongue deeper into her.

She wanted to scream, so
she did.
“Why not? Nobody can hear me,” she though.

So Julianna screamed and
let her body lose control, blessed and God-given control, and let
her orgasms ripple through her body, one after another. She
shuddered and didn’t try to control it.

“What bullshit shame is!”
she thought as more orgasms shook her body, shook her like the
walls of the icehouse, shook her to her soul, as she screamed for
him not to quit and keep that unbelievable pleasure
going.

She let her body follow
its own instincts, its own rhythms, and its own private dances.
Julianna felt like a marionette finally shaking off its
strings.

Julianna bucked and rode,
reversed positions and let him take the top, rolled him back,
kissed his mouth, his neck, and his nipples. As he rammed into her,
she responded with a ferocious rocking of her own, like he’d never
seen her do before.

Because he remembered how
much he liked it, he took her butt in his hands and lifted her up,
making her scream from the length and strength of him.

All the pain in his leg
was gone (although soon to return) and she could see the color
returning to his skin. He was a deep and lush red and he was
absolutely gorgeous.

Their passion couldn’t
continue much longer, both were peaking on adrenaline and ready to
release. He, too, had lost the inhibitions of his voice, and
intensity of his shouting raised hers as well, shaking the walls.
The noises carried on the wind for miles and miles.

Julianna wrapped her legs
around him and locked down as hard as she could. She could feel the
beginning of his twitching; his testicles tucked up into his body
and she could feel them spraying into her.

Her legs vice gripped him
even more aggressively and she gave herself an explosive orgasm
around his semen as it flooded her. Finally she unlocked her legs
and he exhaled, breathed deeply, and exhaled again, utterly
spent.

Julianna did the only
thing she could think of in such a miraculous occasion; she said a
prayer of thanks to God.

“
I know that when they
have…intercourse…he does it with his collar on,” Gosha told Dale.
“And nothing else. Can you imagine that?”

“
I sure can,” the Bishop
Dale said, with probably a spoonful too much enthusiasm. “What do
you think Julianna wears while they are doing it?”