Tempest in Eden

"Hmmm?" she mumbled sleepily. She lay on her stomach, her face nestled in the pillow. He was stretched out alongside her, his body partially covering hers. The feel of his resilient body hair on her naked flesh was causing tiny aftershocks of delight, which she'd thought long spent, to erupt again.

"Lift up a little," he urged, as his lips sampled the skin on the back of her neck.

She obliged, and his hands slid beneath her to knead her breasts. He evenly distributed his weight over her as he settled himself between her thighs.

"Oh … Ian, that's … nice," she said brokenly as his hands once again stirred her to dizzying heights. One smoothed down her stomach to a target eagerly waiting for his touch.

Again he became her teacher, instructing her on how both of them could derive the most pleasure. Before she once again lost her reason, she spoke what was on her mind. "It's never been this way for me, Ian. I … ah, darling, that's wonderful… I didn't think it would be this way with you."

"How did you think it would be? Not so fast

… that's it. Perfect, perfect, Shay."

She squeezed her eyes shut and took in a great breath. What he was doing was so sublime, she didn't know if she could speak. "More conventional. We…" No, she couldn't mention anyone else's name, not now. It would be profane. And she didn't want to think about Ian and Mary, or her jealousy would kill her. "I knew it could be like this but only through literature, books … movies…" She broke off with a sigh that spiraled to a musical refrain.

He pressed his face into her spine and rocked upon her slowly. "Never for me either, my love. Never."

Her heart burst with joy. She was unique to him, too. Then, and for a long while later, they found conversation unnecessary.

Chapter Nine

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For the next few weeks they were blissfully happy. Shay moved into the parsonage with less awkwardness than she had anticipated. Only one month had remained on the current lease for her apartment. Since the landlord rented it as soon as she gave him notice, the matter was settled with dispatch.

Mrs. Higgins showed pangs of anxiety until Ian assured her that she would continue in her present position. He even suggested she give his bride a few cooking lessons, for which he received a swat on the behind.

Shay undertook the task of redecorating and updating the parsonage. "Nothing much," she said quickly when she saw Ian's wary expression. "Just a few touches here and there. Now that you have a hostess, you should entertain more."

She attacked their bedroom first. Behind the king-sized bed, which Ian had told her had been a Christmas present to himself several years before, she covered the wall with fabric. She spread a quilt in a contrasting color on the bed and heaped it with accenting pillows.

Ian's brows wrinkled as he surveyed her handiwork. "If I'm not tired by the time I go to bed, I'll be exhausted by the time I haul all those pillows off," he said dryly, but she could tell he was pleased.

The changes she made in the living room won even the approval of the Tuesday Morning Bible Study Group. In lieu of one of their meetings, they sponsored a bridal shower for their pastor and his bride. Shay had used her own money to redecorate, not the church's, and the women ooohed and aaahed over the results. Their wedding gifts were generous, and Shay basked in the warmth of their acceptance. Ian smiled proudly and kissed her, to the delight of the ladies, as they were waving them off.

The church building didn't escape Shay's attention either. "Something really should be done in those children's Sunday School rooms," she said one night over dinner.

"Oh, no." Ian groaned. "Here it comes." He took a sip of coffee as if it were an anesthetizing drug. "Okay, let me have it."

Undaunted by his teasing, she said, "They're positively dreary. How can the children learn to appreciate the glory of God when they're surrounded by pea green? The rooms should be bright and cheerful. They should have a bulletin board, pictures on the wall, bean-bag chairs, learning aids—"

"Shay," he said, laying a restraining hand on her arm, "don't you think I'm aware of that? The people who work with the children also know that. But those things cost money. It's not in the church budget this year."

"Money? Is that all?" she said blithely. "Then leave that to me. I'll get the money."

"Shay," he said threateningly, scowling, "what are you up to? You wouldn't do anything that would embarrass me, would you?"

"Isn't this pie delicious? I really should get Mrs. Higgins to teach me how to bake it."

"Shaaaaay," Ian said menacingly.

"What would you say if I told you I didn't, have on any underwear?"

"I'd say you're a shameless disgrace and trying to get me off the subject."

She jumped up from her chair and sailed out the room. "And what would you say if I told you that I'll be naked by the time I reach the bed?"

The Sunday School rooms looked brand-new within two weeks, and the whole congregation was buzzing about it. Shay had invited to dinner a retired paper-mill owner, a member of the church known for his prosperity as well as his stinginess. Ignoring Ian's glowering disapproval, she casually expressed her concern over the dismal rooms. By the time the guest left the parsonage, she not only had his sizable check but also his humble request to assist in the children's departments if that would be all right. Now every Sunday morning he could be found surrounded by enthusiastic children.