TIMOTHY INVADED Angela’s mind and imagination and remained there for the next several days. The bond between them was stronger than ever. Tormented by what she would once have labeled as obscene thoughts about him, she could not sleep at night or concentrate on the lecture outlines she was trying to prepare for the second semester. He was her man. She had waited long enough for him. Now she wanted him. It was that simple. She had to wipe away the mistakes and cruelties of the past and open once more the wondrous mysteries of love. She would have to take the initiative because he was embarrassed by the mistakes of the past and probably intimidated by her cruelties.
The matter had to be resolved before the Sunday dinner at her mom’s house or their mutual passions might erupt in anger. She had watched him at the lecture that morning to the faculty. She did not, could not, listen to what he said. Rather she worshipped what he was and imagined him naked and aroused for her. Was this a sin? She hoped not. She had no choice. In her office she paced back and forth. What should I do? It was not necessary that they consummate their love immediately. It was only necessary that the muck from the past be swept away so they both were free to make the decisions that had to be made.
Without any clear plan of action, she strode down the corridor to his office. There was a sign on the door which said PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB. She removed the sign, opened the door, and handed him the sign.
“I’ve come to disturb you, Timmy,” she said.
He laughed.
“You don’t have to be in the same office to disturb me, Angie. The same building is enough.”
“Some time ago”—the words once again poured out of her mouth—“you wanted me as your wife.”
“I still do, Angela, and always will.”
She fell on her knees in front of him.
“Then please forgive all the terrible things I said.”
He lifted her up.
“I’m the one who should be begging your forgiveness . . .” He spun her around in the air like she was a prize captured on the track field. “I let you get away from me once. I’ll not make that mistake again.”
“I observe that you were the one who ran away to Europe.”
He set her down on the floor and extended her arms so he could drink her in.
“I’ll not make that mistake again, I promise.”
He was grinning broadly now, proud of his sudden conquest. Then he embraced her, held her tightly, and absorbed her in passionate kisses.
So that’s what they’re like, she mused.
Then he unbuttoned her blouse, eased it off her shoulders, and assailed her breasts with his lips. She did not resist, could not resist, did not want to resist.
“I’ve wanted to do this, Angela, since that day at the Central Depot.”
She murmured something incoherent.
“Angela, we must marry.”
Slowly he replaced the blouse and buttoned it again, his fingers lingering at every touch.
“I concur.”
“We must marry soon.”
“I concur.”
She finished the last button which was baffling him.
“We must marry a week from Saturday. That will give you a whole week to choose a wedding gown and to make all the necessary preparations.”
“More than enough time.”
“You have beautiful breasts, Angela. I will look forward to a life of playing with them.”
He brushed them with a gentle and reverent hand.
“I will resist that as fiercely as I have today.”
She rested her head against his chest. A permanent captive and captor.
For a spontaneous seduction, she thought, that went pretty well.