Sex in the Sanctuary (19 page)

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Authors: Lutishia Lovely

Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #General, #Christian, #Contemporary Women

BOOK: Sex in the Sanctuary
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Tai poured the popcorn into a bowl, then grabbed it and the sparkling water and headed upstairs. She was still thinking about the various sessions for the summit when a Scripture popped into her head. Setting the popcorn and water down, she hurried over to the bookshelf and grabbed her concordance. Thumbing quickly, she found the passage almost immediately, Hebrews 13:3–4….
Marriage is honorable in all and the bed undefiled; but whoremongers and adulterers God will judge.
Tai sat back and reflected on those Scriptures. “The marriage bed is undefiled,” she whispered aloud. Tai glanced up at the clock on the dresser and reached for the phone, even as ideas continued to root and take shape in her mind. It was still early enough to call Carla. Tai hoped she was home.

 

King moaned and grabbed April’s silky tresses as she swirled her tongue around his sensitive nipple, then suckled first one and then the other. She followed his kinky hair trail with her tongue, moving lower and lower until King’s groan became a growl that he could not contain. He grabbed her roughly and rolled her over, pinning her beneath his massive bulk. He began the same assault on her that she’d done on him, now sending his senses roiling. He caressed and kissed and licked her before entering her fiercely, swiftly, pounding into her over and again. She moaned and writhed and whispered in his ear, “Ooh, yes, do it, baby. That feels so good, so good.” Her words sent him spiralling, pumping harder, faster until they
both exploded with mind-boggling releases that left them panting and sweating.

King gave April a peck before rolling off her and falling heavily against the mattress. He’d never had sex like this in his whole life. Had never met a woman who made him feel the way April did.

“I love you, King,” she whispered, turning toward him and snuggling under his arm. She began kissing him again, first his mouth, then his neck, then sliding down to continue her oral assault.

“Whoa, whoa, baby, you’re gonna kill me,” King teased. “Let a brother catch his breath.”

“I just can’t get enough of you, you know that,” April purred as she grabbed part of the sheet and began wiping the sweat from King’s body. “You are without a doubt the hottest, most talented lover in the world. Thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“Yes. Thank you for coming to me, being with me. You’re my most prized possession.”

“Oh, so I’m a possession now.” King turned to face her, tenderly wiping strands of dampened hair from her face.

“You know what I mean. Not that I own you, but that you’re my world. You’re what matters to me.”

King rolled back over and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t like it when she talked like that, like he was her everything. He didn’t, couldn’t, belong to her. Someone named Tai was in the way. He rolled out of bed and headed toward the shower.

“Don’t leave yet,” April whispered. The words were spoken before she could stop them. She was a strong, astute woman and knew that with a married man she’d get only bits and pieces. Still, she wasn’t ready for him to go.

King felt guilty enough when he left Tai at home. Now he was going to feel guilty when he left April? “You know how heavy my Sundays are. You know I can’t stay.” King looked at her as he turned on the bathroom light. She looked ravish
ing, sitting perfectly still in the middle of the bed, her hair cascading over her shoulders and down her back, lips slightly swollen, eyes boring into his. He let his gaze continue downward, firm, large breasts made even more voluptuous by a skilled surgeon’s hand, nice, tight stomach, hot, moist…

King turned away quickly and walked into the bathroom, turning the water on full blast. He’d barely begun soaping himself before he heard the shower door open and felt her body press up against him before she reached around and grabbed the soap. “Here,” she murmured, taking the bar and moving it sensuously in circles across his shoulders and down his back. “Allow me.” April soaped her own body and then used her flesh to continue to soap King’s. He stared down at her as she dropped to her knees to soap his legs and calves and to carefully wash his feet. His eyes glazed as his penis began to harden and throb from her expert ministrations. He grabbed her head, pulling her toward him. King didn’t leave her house for a long time.

The spirit of seduction

Millicent was livid. She had simmered slowly since the last “amen” of Mt. Zion’s leadership conference. She seethed with anger during the three-and-a-half hour flight home. Now her rage was in full boil. In her mind, Cy had not treated her at all appropriately. Didn’t he know that she was his future wife!

The voice of God filled her mind.
No, he doesn’t.

“Well, he’s gonna know it!” Millicent spouted angrily as she paced back and forth in her condo. She picked up a glass figurine and hurled it across the room. The impact left a dent in the wall and broke the carefully sculpted angel into several pieces.

She barely noticed, sitting down on the couch, breathing heavily, and shaking her leg up and down in a nervous patter. She thought back again to how the events unfolded in Kansas and became even angrier at each distorted memory.

First, there was the fact that Cy didn’t come out to greet her personally when she arrived at the church, but rather had her escorted directly to the sanctuary. The hospitality suite
didn’t count; after all,
everybody
and anybody could come in there. She hadn’t recognized one first lady or pastor in that room, not one! Wherever they were, that was where she was supposed to be. But after she was seated on the third row amidst the pastors’ and deacons’ wives in the sanctuary, she felt less offended. And then when Mrs. Brook had entered the main edifice with Millicent’s very own first lady, one Mrs. Vivian Montgomery, in tow, she knew her access to the inner sanctum of conference attendees, and thus close proximity to Cy, was basically assured. Relaxing with that thought, Millicent had allowed her mind to create the probable scene of why Cy hadn’t asked to see her as soon as she’d arrived. Of course, he was probably preparing for his session. She even remembered smiling at the thought of his sermon preparations in their future.
Guess I should get used to that
, she had mused.
My future husband will need his solitude in those moments.
She’d imagined him holed up in the pastors’ study, in deep thought, no, on his knees in prayer, seeking His guidance from on high on how best to lead His children out of the bondage of poverty into the promised land of prosperity. Had she seen him laughing heartily at Bishop Anderson’s jokes and thoroughly enjoying the kingly feast that was the pastors’ private lunch, and had she witnessed the adjoining room filled with first ladies and other distinguished female guests, she would
not
have been amused.

Her ruffled feathers were further calmed when, after Cy’s illustrious and thoroughly informing conference seminar, she had been escorted, along with Cy, Tai and Vivian, to the pastors’ personal reception area and again introduced to Pastor King and his wife. She felt right at home as they sat chatting amicably over coffee and appetizers, just the six of them, before being joined by a few other ministers and their wives for a dinner in the private dining room. The pastors’ private dining room!

The Voice continued.
But that was only after you played the
pity card with Vivian, taking advantage of your relationship with her to be near Cy.

“I knew he wanted me to stay with him, but he couldn’t ask directly!” she countered.

I see.

She was not going to listen to the logic of her conscience. “Satan, I rebuke you! Cy is my future husband and my place is by his side!”

I’m not Satan, stop rebuking Me.

Millicent jumped up and began pacing again. The dinner had been lovely; even Mrs. Brook, or Queen Bee as all her members called her, seemed to warm up to her. Tai was so excited about the S.O.S. Summit that her eyes fairly glistened while listening to all the updated information Vivian and Millicent were able to provide. Millicent had felt like one of the family. She felt like a pastor’s wife, like Cy’s wife. She smiled, remembering that feeling, and couldn’t help smiling as she relived the utter rapture of sitting next to Vivian during the evening service, in the front row. Millicent tried to involve God in her illusion.

“Since it’s Your will, it is only good practice for me to play the role of Cy’s wife.”

You’re playing a role, all right.

Millicent would not be swayed. “I’m just speaking those things that are not as though they were!”

No, you’re just speaking the things that you want and trying to convince yourself that it’s Me talking.

That was enough. Millicent wouldn’t stand around and listen to this garbage another minute. She ran into her bedroom, peeled off her clothes and donned a pair of shorts. She quickly pulled on a pair of cotton socks and grabbed her Air Jordans from the closet. She stopped by the bathroom and got a scrunchie to tie back her hair. She grabbed her jogging pouch and placed her keys, cell phone and a five-dollar bill inside. Without stopping to turn off lights or the radio, she headed
for the door and sprinted outside, running swiftly and steadily until the only sounds she heard were her escalating heartbeat, her labored breathing and the sound of rubber meeting pavement in the quiet suburban streets.

Forty-five minutes later, Millicent sat tired and sweaty outside the local Jamba Juice Bar. She gingerly nursed a Tropical Paradise smoothie, a delectable blend of pineapple, papaya, banana, mango, orange juice, vanilla yogurt and crushed ice. It tasted heavenly and was especially refreshing after Millicent’s hard run. The run had done her mind good as well as her body, had chased away the voice of the enemy that badgered her in her condo and allowed her to think of Cy in the husbandly terms that God had ordained.

Sitting back, she allowed herself to continue her thoughts of what had happened in Kansas. She was able to think clearer now, with less fury and more focus. Things worth having were worth fighting for, and where Cy was concerned, Millicent would fight every woman in the universe. And she would win.

That thought led to images of
her.
Hope something or other. Millicent had known she was trouble from the time she first spotted her the day of Cy’s seminar. She didn’t know what kind of trick she’d used, what lewd promise she’d given, but she’d seen how Cy’s eyes seemed to follow her as she left the sanctuary and headed toward the offices. Millicent knew that game. Playing hard to get, acting as if she had no interest at all in speaking with Cy when Millicent knew that was exactly what she wanted to do. What woman didn’t? God knew ninety-nine percent of the other women had made a beeline to his side as soon as the benediction ended. That sneaky she-devil was the number one reason Millicent had been so determined to stay by Cy’s side.
Guess this is something else I’m going to have to learn how to handle, women always trying to get my man.
She remembered how the woman had shamelessly brought attention to herself during that night’s services. How she had acted so into the worship, standing
and lifting her hands and eyes to God as if He were really on her mind. Only a fool wouldn’t recognize that she was only flaunting her body in that shimmering suit. Millicent loved God just as much as she did and was sure it didn’t take all that!

She finished her smoothie and tossed the cup in the trash, heading back to her condo at a leisurely pace. She remembered how Cy’s eyes had seemed to stay on Miss Thang, so much so that when the last worship song played, Millicent made sure she stood up first, just to make sure that this little biddy wouldn’t be the only one reverencing God.
Reverencing my foot, advertising her availability is more like it
. Still, when the services were over and the special guests had retired to the pastors’ reception area, Miss Thang was nowhere in sight. Thank goodness!

Millicent was only slightly rebuffed when Cy turned down her offer to drive into Kansas City and visit a jazz club Millicent had spotted in her hotel’s “Things To Do” guide. Of course he would be exhausted; he’d stood in the sanctuary for almost two hours after his seminar, fielding questions and fighting off Mrs. Taylor wannabes. But Millicent hadn’t left his side, handing out pamphlets and pretyped seminar notes, getting him water, arranging the sale of his tapes in the church bookstore, you know, things a wife would do. After all, hadn’t he agreed to have breakfast with her the following morning? The fact that he hadn’t come alone, but had shown up with two matrons from Mt. Zion, a Mrs. Stokes and a Mrs. Waters, or Winters or something or other, just underscored the fact that he wanted others to know they were an item, a couple, a pair. Further, his attention to these old ladies simply confirmed his sensitive, compassionate side and probably gave the elderly, apparently lonely women something to talk about for months to come.

Millicent knew for a fact that Cy hadn’t attended the next morning’s sessions because of a leaders’ meeting held by
Pastor Brook for a few, select visiting ministers. Millicent had used this time to try and locate which hotel Cy was staying at, to no avail. She’d called all of the places that she could think of that would suit his fancy—the Sheraton, Hyatt, Hilton, Crown Center and a few more upscale hotels the concierge had suggested, but one Mr. Cy Taylor was not registered at any of them. She’d checked hotels in Overland Park and Kansas City with no luck. Had she been able to find him, she would have been able to watch, or rather guard him more closely and make sure that some floozy didn’t try and stalk him, try and finagle her way into his hotel suite! Millicent had pleaded the blood of Jesus at the very thought!

She’d breathed an audible sigh of relief when after looking around she discovered that Hope was not in attendance at the afternoon session. She’d probably poked her head into the morning one and, after not seeing Cy, figured she should take her manhunt elsewhere. That was the best thing she could do, because if Cy was the game she was hunting, he’d already been snagged. Her tension mounted slightly, however, when Cy was a no-show at the afternoon session as well. She’d made subtle inquiries until she ascertained that Cy had left with a few of the other ministers for a trip to Kansas City. This didn’t make Millicent feel totally comfortable, but at least he was with men of God. Sister Vivian and Queen Bee hadn’t been there either, but after all, they were close friends and had probably taken the opportunity to catch up on each other’s lives.

No, her dander hadn’t risen fully until the evening services when Miss Thang came waltzing in wearing a gaudy, loud, lime green dress that fit her body like the peel on a banana and, gasp and sputter, showed the imprint of her disgustingly large rear end for all the world to see! A true woman of God would never be seen in such a revealing design; only hoochies dressed like that. Millicent knew that this outfit was part of Hope’s arsenal and that Cy was her target. When
they were introduced at the reception, Millicent made sure Hope got the message, that she was no threat to Millicent’s future. Long after Cy was gone from Kansas and Hope was forgotten, Millicent would be with him in L.A., at his church and in his home. After all, Millicent had his home
and
cell phone numbers. She knew him intimately. They had kissed, passionately, and Millicent knew that but for his Godly restraint, he would have gladly done more, much more. It was obvious that he’d wanted to. No, Millicent would not be intimidated by this woman. In a few hours, Cy would be on a plane headed to Chicago and, in a few days, would be headed back home to California, back to her.

Millicent held on to those comforting thoughts throughout the Midnight Musical and the Angels of Hope performance. Again, she watched as Cy gazed at Hope, as if transfixed by something more powerful than he could control. The woman was probably into witchcraft. The spirit of seduction. Millicent had quietly spoken in tongues during the entire performance, binding the enemy and breaking her curses. She was sure it worked because after the musical, little Miss Slime in Lime was nowhere to be seen, and it was Millicent who sipped coffee with Sister Vivian and the first lady even after Cy, citing fatigue and an early rising the next morning, had left the hall to return to his hotel. Millicent assumed his was an early flight to Chicago and since her own flight left at eight
A.M.
, she’d left shortly afterward and returned to her hotel to pack.

 

Millicent let herself into her condo and turned to lock the door, leaning back against it. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she again placed the events of this weekend in their proper perspective.

She knew that she was destined to be Cy’s wife. She knew
that she was the one who sat at his side and dined with Pastor King, Queen Bee and the Montgomerys. She knew that she was the one who’d sat in the rows reserved for pastors’ wives, the first row. She knew that she was the one who assisted him after his seminar, easing his burden by overseeing the selling of his tapes. She knew that she was the one who hugged him tightly, in front of everyone in the reception room, as he left to get ready for his early morning flight.

As she opened her closet to put away her tennis shoes, Millicent’s eyes rested on the large garment bag hanging at the far end of the enclosure. She reached over and caressed the bag before unzipping it and opening it up. Soft swirls of silk met her hand as she gingerly fingered the intricate stitching, grasping and releasing the myriad beads across the bodice. Her eyes watered at the thought of donning this beautiful gown to walk down the aisle into the arms of her future, Cy Taylor. Millicent knew it was just a matter of time before this promise of God’s came to pass. After all, she had put feet to her faith!

Millicent may have known many things. But what she didn’t know was that Cy’s early rising had nothing to do with a flight to Chicago. That after seeing Hope, he decided to leave for the Windy City at a later time. That he’d awakened early not to catch an early flight, but to have an early breakfast with the woman who’d captured his attention from the moment she’d entered the room. The woman who looked gorgeous in gold and glamorous in green. That after breakfast, he’d persuaded this woman to give him a tour of the city and to show this ordinarily busy man who now acted as if he had nothing but time on his hands what one did for fun in the Midwest. Millicent didn’t know what Cy knew, that as surely as the sun shone and the moon glowed, he would see this woman again, get to know as much as he could about her. What Millicent didn’t know was that Cy had fallen in love
with Hope Jones as he glimpsed that first smile and had unconsciously pledged his eternal devotion to her as he watched her dance with unabashed reverence and adoration before the Lord.

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