I knew in the back of my mind what just happened had been wrong. And going further was one of the gravest sins. Only that voice was but a mere whisper to the other shouts in my head. Many things had been stolen from me in this room—my innocence, my courage, my faith, and my manhood. Most of all, my choice had been taken from me. I wanted it back. I wanted to know this act with this woman by my own choosing. I deserved to know something different other than feeling helpless to the whims of that man.
“Yes, I want to.”
Her thumbs hooked into the sides of my pants she wore. I sucked in a ragged breath as she slowly revealed herself to me. She was smooth and hairless down below. All the paintings I’d seen had a woman hidden behind a palm full of curls. But nothing hid her to me. I saw and wanted to touch, but had no idea what to do. She must have sensed my ineptitude because her quiet words rang out.
“Lie back.”
The table I’d been forced to hold was now at my back and not my stomach. She climbed up and straddled me, leaving me confused as to where to look. Her center or her breasts, then again, I wanted to see her face to understand if she wanted this as much as me.
She took me in her hand, and I thought I might erupt again. Her mouth had felt so amazing, I couldn’t imagine what being inside her was like. Something was building beneath her hold. It drew me tight as a bow and made me stupid with want. When she lifted onto her knees with her legs on either side of me, I watched as she positioned herself above. I didn’t understand. I could see no opening until she pushed the tip of me between her parted lips below. Then slowly those lower lips swallowed my length in their warm silky depths.
My vision blurred and I lost sight of her. The feeling was cataclysmic. There was no pain, no anger, no fear. As she sank on me, I was lost, only this time it was in hope and desire. When she rose up, I just knew my eyes would get stuck as they rolled in the back of my head. I closed them to revel in the moment, wanting to remember every movement, every touch.
“Canaan, look at me.”
I blinked, clearing my sight, wondering if the sin of pleasure had caused me to go blind. Finally, I saw. She moved like a siren calling me to shore; I was lost under her ministrations.
She began to move up and down with more speed, more pleasing friction. I was getting to the climax of things quickly and I wasn’t ready for it to end. I reached out and gripped the sides of her hips. In response, she tossed her head back as I held her still.
Haven
I would have been a blind woman not to have absorbed the beauty of Canaan as he lay beneath me naked. His sculpted muscles tensed with his want and there wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t molded to perfection. Eyes wild with the same desperation I felt, he held me in place as his large fingers dug into the flesh of my hips. I craved his touch more than I cared to think about. Leaning down, my breast was a mere breath away from his mouth. And he didn’t disappoint. His wet tongue flicked out before one hand left my hip to draw me closer. His full lips wrapped around my nipple and he didn’t need any instruction on what to do next.
The suction of his mouth propelled my hips in motion, and I rubbed my clit against his firm length as I restarted our movements. His mouth left my breast and he cupped the back of my head. Our lips collided as his tongue sought out mine. He tasted every corner of me as if he were looking to discover all my hidden secrets. I moaned in his mouth as awareness struck me—this was what every kiss should be. Then he started thrusting up, meeting me in the middle as we found our rhythm. He was reacting on instinct as he moved his hips up and inside me. My body wrapped around his like a tailor-made glove. Every nerve ending inside sparked as friction did its job. I wanted time to suspend, but it didn’t. My orgasm struck me on a scream as my inner walls spasmed all around him.
His hand left my hair and returned to my hip as he thrust harder upward, groaning as he found his own release. A few more grunts between us and we lay spent on the table, panting.
As sweat cooled on our skin, I realized something so very important, yet mortifying. I had fallen for him hard. There was no turning back…until I looked into his eyes. My smile faltered. The bright light that filled the room as we became one had now dimmed.
Regret drew unhappy lines around his lips. The walls of my heart fell, much like Jericho’s, as the room and what we’d done spun all around me. Shame covered me. I’d spoiled the virginal priest much as Father O’Brien had. I was the harlot who tempted him into breaking his vow of celibacy. What had I done? I scrambled off him, gathering the clothes he’d given me and darted out of the room. My conscience and heart couldn’t endure the look of utter despair on his face.
Canaan
There were no words for what I was—sham, charlatan didn’t come close. Yet I had the gall to parade around in priest’s clothing. I’d allowed the whispered words of a serpent to lure a woman into committing an act that defiled what should have been a sacred room. And instead of apologizing, my mouth stayed glued as I cowardly allowed her to flee from the room where I’d sinned in the most depraved way.
Alcohol and bad memories had destroyed what goodness was in me. It was late. I needed to get her home. Quickly, I got dressed and searched for her. But she was nowhere to be found. I headed out into the night, where I jogged toward the street too late to stop her as she got in a car and drove away.
I shoved a hand in my hair, not sure how I should react. I’d broken my vow, but for some reason, I didn’t feel dirty. I felt well loved, which was crazy. She wasn’t my wife and couldn’t be. I’d cheated on the church and my heart broke for that, whereas the other part of my heart had been healed from our joining. I stayed there, halfway between the church and the street, not knowing where I belonged.
Rain fell down on me as if the heavens wept for my transgressions. With nowhere to go, not yet at least, I headed back inside. I cleaned the floor and the table, wiping away the sins committed in the sacristy before heading back to the rectory.
Once in my room, I pulled out the belt and stared at it a long time before tossing it unused on the bed. I climbed in the shower and hung my head. I prayed for Haven and myself while making plans. I couldn’t stay much longer and didn’t know of a way out. I needed to talk to someone. Maybe when Bill came back, I would think about requesting a leave to go see my mentor. He might be able to help untangle the mess I’d created.
What in God’s name had I done? Sex with Canaan? I couldn’t bear to think about it. Yet, that’s all I saw when I closed my eyes. The ride home was interminable. When the Uber driver finally reached Macie’s building, I hurried away from the car. I was sure it was way more than enough. My brain and guts churned with the guilt of what I’d done as I pushed open the door to our apartment, only I stopped short. Macie was on the couch with her date.
Shit, shit, shit! I was still dressed in Canaan’s oversized sweats and T-shirt, soaked from standing in the rain.
“Haven, holy crap, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I muttered, hurrying past them into my room.
Voices exchanged phrases behind me, but I didn’t pay attention to them. Only one thing occupied my attention and he wasn’t in this apartment.
Macie barged into my room without so much as a knock. “Did he hurt you? Did that fucker hurt you?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because he used to beat the shit out of you and now you come home looking like this.”
I was so lost in thoughts of Canaan, I immediately thought that’s who she was referring to. “Oh, that.” My body was wracked with shivers from the wet clothing. “I need to get out of these.”
Her narrowed gaze told me I was in for the interrogation of my life. “Right. But then I need answers.”
I didn’t bother to respond and headed straight to the bathroom. The shower was both a blessing and a curse. It took the chill away, but it didn’t rinse away the guilt that coated me. It also washed Canaan’s touch and smell from my body. I would have gladly left it there foreve
r. His perfect blend of innocence and beauty had tunneled inside of me, had pierced the impenetrable walls of my soul, allowing my heart to open up. And what had I done in return? I had twisted that love around and forced a carnal act upon him, and now he had broken his sacred vow of celibacy. What kind of person was I? Uncle Kent had been right after all. I was a slut. Worse than that, I was unscrupulous and licentious. Canaan should’ve been off limits to me from the very beginning.
With shaking hands, I turned off the water and dried myself. The reflection in the mirror showed me someone I didn’t even know anymore. What happened to the girl I used to be?
“Haven, you have to come out of there sometime. It might as well be sooner rather than later. I have some tea made to warm you up.”
Wrapping myself in a towel, I walked to my bedroom to throw on my pajamas and then went out to the living room where Macie sat waiting.
“Here.” She handed me a cup of tea.
“Thanks.”
“So?”
“What happened to your date?
She glared at me. “I sent him home.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because you are more important. Now spill!”
I started at the beginning, from when I got to Aunt Kathy’s and ended at the point where I ran out of the sacristy. I left out the part about his molestation. That was Canaan’s story and his alone. She’d only interrupted me for clarification every now and then, until now.
“So let me get this straight—you rode the pony, and I’m talking Canaan’s pony, on top of the vestment table in the sacristy?”
“Ugh. You make it sound so utterly disgusting. I may be utterly disgusting, but he’s not. It just wasn’t that way, Mace.”
“Can I just explain something to you? You had sex with a Roman Catholic priest. One who received the Sacrament of Holy Orders, which, if you may have forgotten, included a vow of celibacy?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, I haven’t forgotten. What do you take me for? An idiot?”
“I might. At the moment anyway.”
My head hung down with tears gushing down my cheeks like the rain that pounded the sidewalks outside. Macie was instantly by my side, holding me, doing her best to calm me down.
“I didn’t mean it. I know you’re not an idiot, Have. I do.” She hugged and patted my hair and back, but I cried like a baby on her shoulder. It took a while, but I eventually reined the blubbering mess in, enough at least so I could speak.
“I’ve ruined him. Tarnished his perfect soul, Mace. I’ve marred that beautiful man and forced him to break his vow and now he won’t be able to…”
“Stop this train wreck of thoughts right this instant. You did not force him to have sex. He’s an adult. He could’ve walked away from you at any time.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “No, you don’t get it, and I can’t explain it either. Canaan is…he’s not like anyone I’ve ever known.”
Hands gripped my shoulders and she drilled me with her gaze. Then she squinted and said, “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Not wasting a second, I looked away. “Haven, answer me truthfully.”
My head fell back down while my hands plowed a path straight through to the roots of my hair. I nearly pulled it out the way I tugged at it. “Yes, I’m in love with him.” Lifting my head, I said the words directly to her. “I tried not to. I did. I avoided him as best I could. Then I attempted the friend thing because going cold turkey was killing me. But look where it got me. I’m that person who is not worthy, Macie. I’m going to Hell for sure. Not because of what I’ve done to myself, but look at what I’ve done to him.”
Macie threw her hands up in the air. “You’re being ridiculous. He had a choice. Everyone has a choice.”
“No, they don’t. Not when…” My hand fluttered in front of my face, trying to stem the tears. Talking was next to impossible.
“What are you trying to tell me? That you raped him?”
She had gotten under my skin and now I was so completely agitated. I wanted to shake her. “No, I didn’t rape him.” My head lolled back as I collected my words. How could I adequately explain this to her without spilling the horrors of Canaan’s secret? “There’s something I can’t share with you, and I have to leave it at that. But as we talked and he tried to calm me over the Kent thing, we drank and then one thing led to another. It happened, Macie, but I was the instigator. It was my fault. I should’ve stopped it, and I didn’t. I pretty much seduced him.”
Her mouth gaped open. Mine would’ve done the same had she shared this piece of information with me.
By now, I paced the floor, wringing my hands.
In a calm and quiet tone, Macie said, “Haven, you’ve known me how long? Since the first grade?”
Nodding, I walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured a vodka.
“You can’t blame this entirely on yourself,” she said.
I took a big gulp of my drink. “Yeah, I can. He didn’t even know how to kiss me, Mace. How do you think I feel, knowing I’m the one who urged him on? There’s a lot to this story I wish I could share, but I can’t. And I know you don’t understand, but trust me on this—I’m the bad one here and I bear responsibility for it.”
Macie stared at me, shaking her head. There was nothing she could say to ease my grief. Nothing in the world could do that. I sat back down next to her and drained my glass. As I did, tears came for Canaan. I cried for the young boy who had been damaged at such an early age and was ashamed and frightened to tell anyone. I cried for the young man who had buried the pain and heartache deep within him all those years. I cried for the priest who had endured the guilt of what he saw as being a sinner when he wasn’t. I cried for the adult who had finally released the truth only to be seduced into sinning. And it was just as grave, if not graver, because it was not forced upon him. And lastly, I cried for the man Canaan who was every bit as beautiful inside as he was on the surface.
My lips tingled with the memory of hers, the pressure of them still lingering there. If a heart could ache any worse than mine did, I never wanted to feel it. Lost, hopeless, disoriented were terms that best described me. After I returned to my room, my body hummed with want for her. Sleep was a thing of the past. There were many things I thought of doing, including drinking myself into oblivion, but none of those would erase her from my body and soul. At three, it was time to try to rest, and I did so fitfully. At five, I woke up with my hand in my pants, stroking myself, a vision of Haven on top of me. I jumped out of bed and fell to my knees, begging God’s forgiveness. Masturbation wasn’t something the church allowed. It was considered a mortal sin that turned us away from God and selfishly toward ourselves.
My hands shuffled the items on my nightstand in search of my rosary, where it usually stayed. Once it was untangled from its place of rest, I launched into prayer, tenderly handling each of the round beads. I recited the Hail Mary—the dominant prayer in the rosary, devoutly. I begged the Virgin Mary for her help, although why she would stoop to help a tainted soul, a fallen priest such as myself, was beyond me. Had I not deemed myself unworthy of one so pure as her? Even so, I continued on, until it was time to prepare for Mass.
Minutes passed like hours, until late afternoon when I was able to lace up my shoes and go for a run. It wasn’t until the sun started setting that I headed for home with aching thighs, burning lungs, and a parched throat. The run had clarified something and I knew where I’d be heading the next day.
Since this was my second visit, I took the train because the first time taught me about the traffic and parking. It turned out to be easier and less stressful riding public transportation.
When I entered the church, I had no idea what to expect. Would the priest condemn me for what I had done? It would be deserved if he did.
There was a green light over the confessional, so I entered. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was one week ago.”
He said a prayer for me and then aske
d, “What is it you wish to confess today?”
“I have committed a mortal sin.” Air locked in my lungs, and I was unable to say more.
“And what sin is that?”
“I have been with a woman, sexually. I have broken my vow of celibacy. Father, I am a priest.”
There was a long pause. “You were here before? After you kissed the woman?”
“Yes, Father.”
“I see.” Again, silence. And then, “I am afraid I don’t quite know how to advise you. God forgives all sins, even that of your broken vow. Jesus Christ forgave Judas who betrayed him, and God sent his Son to save us sinners. I will absolve you from your transgression, however, I can’t offer you advice, and I suspect that’s what you came here for, along with absolution.”
“It is, Father.”
“I’m terribly sorry to disappoint you. As you are aware, celibacy is a discipline as opposed to a doctrine. Was this woman you had relations with married?”
“No, Father.”
“Then you must seek the forgiveness from your bishop and ask for his absolution for your sin. Strictly speaking, you broke your vow when you kissed her and continued your relationship with her. Having sex took it further. My recommendation would be to discuss this openly with your bishop. If you plan to continue your duties as a priest, you must not see her again.”
“Yes, I know. I have done penance and prayed, and I never intended to continue this relationship.”
“Temptation is all around and we must be aware of it at all times.”
“Will you pray with me, Father?”
“Yes.”
We went through a series of reconciliation invocations, and then he administered my penance. I left the confessional and went inside the church to pray. A million questions rolled through my head as I gazed as the crucifix. Was I good enough to remain in the role of a priest? Did I deserve the Holy Orders I had received? Never before had I doubted my duties to the church, until meeting Haven, it had become abundantly clear that there was more to me than my dedication to Catholicism. God-fearing that I was and true to my convictions, I never had reason to question myself before. But the priest set my wheels spinning, particular with regard to Haven. She hadn’t acted like the temptress, yet the priest had inferred that she was. That wasn’t the way it had been at all. What we shared, in my eyes, had been beautiful, even though I wasn’t supposed to think of it that way. She had coerced me into confronting my demon, and remorse filled me for staining her character that way. We were both victims of cruel circumstances.
A Beautiful Sin Page 21