This little fic was written for the "wicked weather challenge." Check out Tmyres77's counterpart, "Nowhere To Go." Also, a slight spoiler alert – this fic alludes to events that will be covered in greater depth in "The New Arrival."
UPDATE: As JoiForber pointed out in her review, I missed an opportunity to bring Harold's desk into the mix! So for those who originally read this fic before September 2013, you'll see I did a bit of tweaking to rectify this oversight (also, the new addition pays a bit of homage to Carolina Nadeau's delightful, delectable "A Day Off.")
XXX
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
XXX
"So, my dear little librarian, do you think our seventeenth time at the faraway field will also be the charm?"
Her husband's flirtatious remark scattering her ruminations, Marian Paroo Hill blinked and tore her eyes away from the ominously gray patch of cumulous clouds lining the horizon ahead of them. The almanac had predicted sunny skies for Saturday, April 17, 1926, and the day had indeed dawned fair and warm. But the clouds started to roll in as lunchtime approached, and by the time Harold and Marian had tendered their children to the care of family and vacated the charming Victorian for their afternoon jaunt, the day was well on its way to being completely overcast.
"That all depends if we even make it that far," Marian replied, turning her concerned gaze back to the skies.
Although the music professor and the librarian were now on the outskirts of town, only she had noticed this change in atmosphere. Clearly anticipating a long, pleasant afternoon of canoodling, Harold's attentions up to that point were almost wholly focused on the curve of his wife's neck. While Marian unabashedly enjoyed her husband's constant nuzzlings as they walked along, his delightful ministrations couldn't entirely distract her from the gathering gloom.
As if coming out of a stupor, Harold lifted his head – his face buried in her hair, he had been thoroughly engaged in kissing the tips of any curls his lips happened to come into contact with – and scanned the horizon with a critical eye.
"Say now! That doesn't look promising, does it?"
A long, low rumble emanated from the clouds in the distance, bringing the couple to an abrupt halt in their stroll. Marian let out a disappointed sigh. "We'll have to amend our plans – an open field is no place to be caught in a storm!" But she was at a loss to think of where they could go, instead. She would have suggested returning home, but both Robert and her mother were currently in residence, and she wasn't yet ready to abandon her time alone with her husband. "Perhaps we can wait the rain out at the Candy Kitchen?"
Harold gestured to the tuba case he was holding. "Normally, I'd say that sounds like a wonderful idea, but what are we going to do with this, in the meantime? It'll probably take up too much space for us to fit comfortably anywhere!" Indeed, with its small tables crowded close together, the Candy Kitchen was rather cramped in its accommodations – precisely why it appealed to the romantically inclined in the first place.
"Not to mention, such a conspicuous item is likely to spark a few too many questions about our planned activities for the afternoon," Marian added, wary of triggering gossip even after fourteen years of marriage. She sighed again. "I wish we had left Robert at Mama's, instead of having her come to our house to watch him – then at least we'd have the option of going back home for the time being!"
"And the twins would likely come barging in on us at some inconvenient point," Harold said with a laugh. "If by some miracle our dear daughters managed to find something that kept them both busy and out of our hair for awhile, we'd be sure to have a parade of ladies from the Events Committee calling on us. Or a concerned parent would stop by wanting to chat about band business. It's always something. You ought to know by now that it's not enough to get everyone out of the house for us to be left alone for an entire afternoon!"
"True," the librarian agreed, frowning as she reflected on their inability to snatch so much as an uninterrupted hour together without arduous and careful planning. Not for the first time, she missed the spontaneity and privacy Paris had afforded them. "But where else can we go for shelter?"
The music professor grinned. "I've got the perfect place in mind."
XXX
Unfortunately, husband and wife only managed to make it halfway to their destination before the downpour started in earnest. Tightening his hold on Marian's hand, Harold picked up their pace as fast as he dared on the slick sidewalks and roads. Even if both of them were thoroughly soaked by the time he unlocked the doors to Professor Harold Hill's Music Emporium and ushered his wife inside, he continued to look at the silver lining of the situation. Although their plans to go to the faraway field had been foiled, their precise whereabouts remained a mystery to the townspeople, so having a nice afternoon alone together was still a definite possibility.
But it seemed Marian was not inclined to be so optimistic about their circumstances, and she continued to shiver crossly even after they had escaped the deluge. After opening the door to his office and turning on the light – which revealed just how dusty and disorganized the room truly was – even Harold had to admit the atmosphere was hardly promising enough for eating a decent lunch, let alone engaging in any kind of romance.
Marian sneezed. "When's the last time you cleaned in here?"
Whenever he anticipated a visit from his fastidious wife, Harold had always made sure to tidy things up for her. But the librarian hadn't stopped by his office for at least a month, so he had grown a bit lax in regard to such maintenance. "It's been awhile," he sheepishly admitted, hastening to brush a pile of paperwork off the top of his desk into the nearest available drawer. However, it was already crammed so full that it refused to close all the way, despite his vigorous applications of force.
"For heaven's sake, you're going to break something," Marian snapped, grabbing him by the arm. "Here – let me do it."
Knowing this was one argument he could never win, Harold quietly stepped back and let his wife go to work. Her first act was to remove the entire contents of each of his overflowing drawers and plunk everything unceremoniously on the top of his desk. As the librarian began to sort things into neat piles – tossing several disapproving tsks! in her husband's direction as she worked – Harold thought it best to remove himself from the vicinity for a little while. In any case, he wanted to change out of his wet things.
Fortunately, Harold had long been in the habit of keeping extra clothes at the emporium, so it was easy enough to assemble a dry outfit all the way down to his socks and BVDs. However, his reasons for maintaining this cache of apparel had never included weather peccadilloes, so he lacked a dry pair of footwear. It would have been folly to walk around the disorganized emporium in stocking feet, especially as he refused to turn on too many lights – nosy passerby might be alerted to the building's current occupied status – so Harold donned his soaked shoes for the time being and, after making a quick stop in the washroom to slick back his disheveled locks, he proceeded to the storeroom to see what, if anything, he could drum up for his wife to wear. Even the eternally scheming music professor wasn't farsighted enough to keep a dress or two for Marian on hand, so he was going to have to get a little more creative with her ensemble. It was a shame he didn't have her old Easter Parade uniform handy; unfortunately, it had fallen apart years ago, and as the librarian had become far less involved with band-related affairs since the birth of their daughters, they never found the need to purchase a replacement.
After digging through several boxes, Harold managed to cobble together a red jacket with gold buttons, a pleated white skirt, red-and-white striped stockings and gold boots with white pom-poms. While this outlandish costume was far from likely to improve his wife's mood, he would brook no refusal from her to don this attire – the afternoon was shaping up dismally enough without her catching a cold on his watch!
Indeed, Marian gave her husband a withering look when he returned to the office with his improvised outfit. "What is that supposed to be?"
"The best I could do on short notice," he said firmly.
Her mouth twitched. "Really, Harold – a baton girl?"
Harold couldn't resist. "Well, you could simply go around in your scanties," he suggested with a lascivious wink. "After all darling, we are married… "
The levity in her expression immediately faded. "What – and catch cold in this chilly pigsty of an office? Give me that," she instructed, pulling the costume out of her husband's hands.
Repressing a victorious chuckle, the music professor moved to help his wife out of her wet clothes. "Things are looking much better around here, my dear," he complimented, glancing at his office. Although he had left his wife alone for only half an hour, he observed that not only had she managed to tidy his desk, she'd also swept the floor.
Marian let out a bleak laugh. "I still have to go through your cabinets. But at least this room is decent enough to eat in, so I'll save that chore for after lunch."
Now it was a sigh that Harold had to repress; he ought to have known Marian would seize on the opportunity to scour the place. It was a damn good thing he hadn't sent her to poke around the cluttered storeroom for a change of clothes – if she took it into her head to straighten things up in there, they'd be at the emporium all night!
Thankfully, the librarian's thoughts had turned elsewhere for the time being. "I wish we'd thought of going to the library, instead," she mused wistfully as she sat on the couch and peeled off her damp stockings. "I do have a change of clothes there. And blankets, too – we could have set up a nice picnic at one of the tables while the building was closed for lunch."
"While you might have been all set in the ensemble department, my dear little librarian, there would have been absolutely nothing for me to wear," Harold pointed out with a smile. "Not that I would have minded all that much – I always thought it would be great fun to loll about the library in my skivvies. Of course, we'd have to toss poor Miss Peabody and any lingering patrons out into the pouring rain before embarking on your romantic little lunch idea, and then everyone in River City would have a pretty good idea of just where we were this afternoon. We'd never manage to get away – "
Marian rolled her eyes and swatted at her husband. Ducking her with his usual ease, Harold retreated to gather their water-logged things and drape them on various music stands she'd set up near the radiator. For good measure, he cranked up the dial – the office was rather chilly, even for his liking. Once he had finished seeing to their clothes, he slipped off his shoes and left them to dry, as well.
When Harold turned back to his wife, she was fully dressed and tugging self-consciously at the jacket of her baton-girl get-up. While the skirt, stockings and boots fit beautifully, accentuating the slender but shapely curves of her hips, calves and ankles, the coat – clearly manufactured for the slim torso of the average teenage girl – was too narrow to contain his wife's décolletage. Not that Harold minded – in fact, he immensely approved of the view the half-unfastened jacket afforded him. Since the librarian was unable to button up her coat all the way, her slip peeped out for the music professor to see, a tantalizing vision of lace and satin that urged him to come right over and immerse himself in this compelling display.
So Harold did just that.
XXX
These days, Marian rarely attempted to dissuade her husband from his amorous explorations. But right now, she was finding his present advances rather annoying. Harold was nuzzling at her breasts like an overeager schoolboy and, in her too-tight and age-inappropriate uniform, she felt far too much like an overgrown schoolgirl to take a whole lot of pleasure in the music professor's ministrations, skillful as they were. However, the librarian was also perversely flattered that her husband found her so irresistible even when she was in such a ridiculous get-up. So she decided not to protest, and instead regarded the top of her beloved's head with an exasperated smile.
But when Harold's hands slipped from her waist to clutch at her backside, this sudden relocation knocked Marian completely off balance, and she had to throw her arms around him to keep from toppling over. Although Harold was caught off guard by this maneuver, he soon recovered his equilibrium and managed to steady them both. Letting out a sigh that contained both annoyance and relief, Marian twisted out of her husband's embrace and struggled to stand fully upright; even half unbuttoned, the spangled coat constricted her torso enough to impede her movement. If only this darn jacket was a little looser! she thought irritably, tugging on her sleeves.
As if some passing imp had heard this wish and decided to grant it, there was a ripping sound, and Marian found her arms had regained their full range of motion. Her first act was to reach up and cover her mouth with her hands as her eyes widened and her cheeks grew unnervingly warm.
Letting out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a muffled chuckle, Harold turned her around to survey the damage. "Well done, Madam Librarian!" he said admirably, letting out a low whistle. "The coat is split straight up the seam – should be nothing at all to fix. In fact, I commend you for making the neatest tear I've ever seen – too bad none of my boys are so conscientious!"
The music professor's blithe but diplomatic assessment caused Marian to blush even redder. It was a silly reaction, and it only increased her aggravation. This sudden upswell of emotion was completely uncalled for; ripping the jacket was a minor upset that merited laughter, not mortification! Regardless of her true feelings, the librarian would have laughed along with her husband if her throat hadn't suddenly gotten so infernally tight.
Harold finally noticed she wasn't sharing in his lighthearted humor. "Darling?" he ventured in a voice of tender sympathy.
Despite Marian's attempts to make the best of a dismal afternoon, circumstances seemed to spite her by growing more and more trying with each passing moment. She could accept the weather precluding their stroll to the faraway field, she could tolerate the hasty cobbling together of a decent lunch in her husband's disordered emporium, and she could even bear the indignity of having to don a flimsy baton-girl uniform while waiting for her clothes to dry. But she could not take Harold looking at her with pity in his eyes.
"This is all my fault," he said ruefully, running a hand through his disheveled locks. "I need to keep my office in better order."
Feeling even more out of sorts at her bombastic husband's uncharacteristic display of humble remorse, Marian turned away from him and attempted to blink away her blurry vision. The rain was still coming down hard as ever – she could hear it battering the emporium's roof and outer walls. As Harold quietly helped her out of the torn jacket, she concentrated on the steady drumbeat of water rat-a-tat-tat-ting against the windows, which was punctuated every so often by cymbal-lesque crashes of thunder. When the music professor retrieved a River City Mohawks banner and wrapped it around her shoulders like a shawl – planting a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck as he did so – the librarian found a smile at last. But it was a shaky one.
"I'm going to go see what I can do with my hair before we eat lunch," she informed her husband in a surprisingly steady voice, and moved out of his embrace.
Although Harold looked like he wanted nothing more than to pull her back to him and soothe her with sweet words and even sweeter kisses, he nodded and let her go without protest.
XXX
Twenty minutes alone in the emporium's washroom did wonders for Marian's mood, if not her hair. Although she was going to have to completely restyle her elegant bob in the near future – and she had just washed and set it to perfection this morning! – the application of water and a comb helped tame her unruly frizz back into something resembling ringlets. Even though she still fidgeted and tugged at her clothes – the skirt and stockings were just a hair too tight around her hips and calves, and the boots were a bit too narrow for comfort – at least she was no longer wearing that ghastly red jacket. (Marian wistfully wished for her lovely Easter Parade ensemble of yore, but she knew that after bearing three children, she would likely find the gown just as tight around the midsection!) While her attire and surroundings were less than ideal – she refused to think of the dreadful state of the emporium's cabinets and storeroom – Harold had possessed the foresight to pack their victuals in a roomy and rainproof tuba case, so the afternoon still held the promise of a delicious lunch.
Indeed, when Marian finally returned to the music professor's office, she found a sumptuous spread waiting for her. And that wasn't all she discovered. In the librarian's absence, Harold had taken the opportunity to make additional improvements to their environment. Not only was lunch completely unpacked and artfully arranged on a jaunty blue-and-gold banner spread across the length of the floor, the lights were low and the Victrola in the corner crooned a sultry jazz instrumental. But the best part – which brought fresh tears to Marian's eyes – was that Harold had changed into his red-and-gold band leader costume.
Normally, when the music professor donned this grand ensemble, he wore a larger-than-life grin to go with it. On this occasion, however, his manner was subdued and serious – clearly, he was determined to be romantic despite the obstacles fortune had thrown at them. Trust her husband, with his spectacular sense of flair, to make such delightful lemonade out of life's less-than-savory lemons! As taking refuge in practicality had completely and utterly failed her, Marian was more than willing to try things Harold's way. Slipping off her confining boots and kicking them away for good measure, she took a seat on the banner-blanket. As her toes wriggled in happy relief at being freed from their cramped confinement, the librarian gave her husband a sly, sideways smile and let her makeshift crimson-and-gold shawl slide down her shoulders just a little bit, as if by accident.
Harold gave his wife an approving grin. "You look even more delicious than you did in that baton-girl jacket, Madam Librarian. I think the River City boys' band just found itself a new mascot!"
Marian burst into genuinely shocked laughter – it was really quite something, how he could still manage to scandalize her after fourteen years of marriage! "Why, Mister Hill," she said severely, even as her attempts to admonish him were hampered by an unseemly fit of giggles. Trying to get a hold of herself, she drew the banner back up tightly around her shoulders. "That remark was reprehensible, even for you!"
"My deepest apologies," he said chivalrously, looking anything but sorry.
Before the librarian could scold her naughty husband any further, he offered her the plateful of food he'd been assembling as she made herself comfortable. Too hungry to resist, Marian subsided and tucked into her lunch, promising herself that she would resume this conversation once she had sated her appetite. Although their unorthodox emporium rendezvous was certainly not something either of them would have planned, it was shaping up to be just as wonderful as a tryst at the faraway field would have been. She didn't know which was more delicious: the toothsome meal in front of her, or the delightful butterflies she felt fluttering in the pit of her stomach whenever she met her husband's twinkling gaze.
When they had finished eating, Marian graciously decided to forgo the planned scolding. Instead, she scooted over to where Harold was sitting and, letting her shawl fall away completely, sought her husband's embrace. As ever, he welcomed her proximity with a delighted grin and open arms.
"Coming to the emporium was a wonderful idea," she said contritely. "Thank you for a wonderful lunch date."
Her husband accepted her apology with his usual unflappable cheer. "Mmm… my pleasure," he murmured, nuzzling her neck. When Marian tilted her head to allow him better access, his mouth meandered its way to the hollow of her throat. The librarian's eyes fluttered shut in languid bliss as her husband pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses down toward her breasts, his warm breath pleasantly tickling her bare skin and leaving a column of goose bumps in its wake.
The sounds of tinkling rain, rumbling thunder and soft jazz provided the perfect backdrop for lovemaking; Marian would have been content to luxuriate in her husband's caress for the rest of the afternoon. But all too soon, Harold paused and moved away from her. Before she could protest, he slid off his bulky band-leader jacket and laid it on top of his wife's abandoned banner-shawl.
"It was getting in the way," he explained, tugging the librarian back to him and lowering his head to her décolletage once more.
"It's not the most ideal uniform for canoodling," Marian agreed with a smile.
"Indeed… but your uniform is the stuff of an erotic photograph," he said fervently, his voice a bit muffled due to the current position of his mouth. "Shame the jacket's torn… otherwise I'd have taken it home with us, for later. But I suppose we could make do with the skirt and stockings… "
Marian grimaced. The stockings already had several runs in them, and now that she had indulged in a rich meal, the waistband of her skirt felt even more uncomfortably constricting. So while he might enjoy the view, this baton-girl ensemble wasn't something she was going to be adding to their repertoire in the long term, no matter how much it enticed her husband. "I can't wait to get this darn skirt and stockings off!" she said vehemently.
Harold, of course, chose to interpret this as flirtation. "Well then, by all means, let me help you, Madam Librarian!" he said gleefully. His hands, which had been tracing light circles on the small of her back, immediately honed in on the buttons of her skirt. Almost before she knew it, Marian found herself clad only in a slip and drawers – and for a moment, it seemed as though her helpful husband was going to remove her drawers for her, as well. But then his fingers paused in their untying of her drawstrings, and the music professor looked up, his eyes darting to the office door.
"What is it?" she asked, slightly alarmed.
Harold blinked, and then smiled at his wife. "Nothing important… just a silly, superstitious reflex. It seems that whenever we start anything promising in here, the Fates conspire to interrupt us." His gaze wandered to the office door again, which remained firmly shut. Seemingly satisfied, he turned his full attention back to Marian. "And just for once, I'd like to finish something!"
The librarian gave her husband a sly smile as he resumed unlacing her drawers. "Just once? We do have an entire afternoon ahead of us… "
At that, Harold's hands seemed to lose their nimbleness and, with trembling fingers, he unceremoniously tugged his wife's drawers down her legs and urged her slip up over her head as if he couldn't undress her fast enough. His graceless haste only inflamed Marian's desire – she divested her husband of his clothing in just as ham-fisted a manner. Unencumbered at last, they embraced with eagerness bordering on desperation, Marian delighting in the feel of her husband's smooth nakedness against her own as he lowered her to the floor.
To her astonishment, Harold did not immediately roll her beneath him and commence their lovemaking in earnest. Instead, he seemed content simply to canoodle as they lay side by side, his hands languidly roaming the curves and valleys of her body as his kisses became sensual, slow and deep. Even when Marian tightened her arms around her husband and moved her hips insistently against his, he did not take her up on this unmistakable invitation – although he did let out a deliciously agonized groan and shifted his mouth to her neck for a hard love-bite that made her cry out in delight. And when one of Harold's hands vacated her breast to engage in gentle explorations between her legs, the librarian was pleased to see they had made at least some progress.
However, while the tinge of rapacious avidity had disappeared from the music professor's embrace, his feverish caresses had wound Marian up too tight to endure a prolonged prelude now. "Harold?" she gasped, her tone one of impatience mingled with yearning.
"I'm savoring the moment," he smoothly replied – although his voice was filled with just as much heated longing as hers. Harold's mouth migrated to her ear, his ragged breath hot against her neck as he huskily whispered, "Marian, I've wanted to make love to you in this office since the first time we were alone together in here – I've wanted this so badly that I'm already too close to the edge. If I start things right this second, they'll be finished just as quickly – and I'll be damned before I leave you less than satisfied!"
As he lowered his lips to her neck again, a pleasant little shiver ran through Marian; nothing thrilled her more than to hear her husband's earnest and unvarnished confessions of the depth of his desire for her. But as she had told him before, they had an entire afternoon of lovemaking to look forward to, and her own desire was growing too urgent for her to wait much longer. If she wanted her husband to make love to her in earnest anytime soon, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.
And that's just what she did. Moving her hand to his exposed side, she ran her fingers lightly up and down his sensitive skin, as if by accident. At first, Harold only gave a small shudder. But when she did it again, this time more deliberately, he paused in his ministrations and squirmed in her arms. "Hey – that tickles!" he protested, as if she didn't know this about him.
Marian gave her husband a provocative smile. "What tickles – this?"
Harold laughed unwillingly as he convulsed beneath her maddening touch. Seizing the offending hand, he laced his fingers through hers. "I'm warning you, my dear," he reproved, his eyes twinkling with glee. "One more move like that, and you'll be the one giggling and wriggling on the floor!"
Having slyly maneuvered itself to rest below his other side, Marian's free hand twitched.
Harold grinned. "That's it, Madam Librarian. You're not the only one who knows how to tickle – "
Marian laughed as her husband rolled her beneath him, but with triumph rather than helpless surrender. For she knew Harold's hands would be too busy holding her down to make good on his threat immediately – indeed, one of them was occupied in pressing her arm tightly against her side and the other was pinning their still-laced fingers to the ground above their heads. As her husband covered her body with his, Marian opened her legs so that when he finally lay on top of her, the tip of him was brought flush against her entrance.
Supposedly, she was now at Harold's complete mercy and could do nothing to stop him from inflicting his revenge. However, now that he had found himself in such an intimate position, the levity faded from his expression and he gazed at his wife with that fervent, possessive look he always got just before making love to her.
But Harold hadn't entirely lost his wits. "You little minx," he softly admonished. Disentangling his fingers from hers, he lightly trailed his hand down along her arm, smiling as she shivered in his embrace. "This was your plan, all along."
Now he was the one wreaking havoc on her sensitive spots; Marian let out a small moan as she felt his hardness tighten and press even more insistently against her. For a brief and tantalizing moment, the tip of him slipped inside of her – but then withdrew before she could arch her back to fully welcome him. Whether Harold moved this way to tease her or it was an involuntary indication of increased desire, she wasn't certain, and she regarded her husband with imploring eyes. "Harold, please – "
Her candid pleading finally accomplished what shrewd craftiness could not; the last remnants of Harold's self-control completely shattered. With a groan, his mouth crashed down on hers and he thrust urgently forward, entering her at last. Locked in an intensely passionate kiss, they began to writhe with abandon and, thanks to his all his teasing and enticing earlier, Marian experienced almost immediate euphoria. For Harold, release was also as swift as reunion; soon husband and wife stilled, their ecstatic cries tapering off into shuddering gasps as they continued to lie entwined on the blue-and-gold banner.
Marian let out a breathless laugh and ran her fingers through her husband's tangled locks. "Well, we certainly finished that, didn't we?"
Giving her a wide grin, Harold rose to his feet and pulled her up with him. "Finished, my dear little librarian? I'd say we were just getting started… "
Without further ado, he lowered his head to nuzzle at her neck. What began as gentle kisses soon progressed to solid love-bites, and Marian was moaning in her husband's arms once more. But even though she felt his erection stir as she pressed her hips against his, he didn't attempt to resume their lovemaking in full.
"Harold," she called out, impatient with desire. If he didn't maneuver her somewhere soon, she was going to take matters into her own hands and pull him back to the floor. He had already spent more than enough time demonstrating his stamina; she wasn't about to tolerate another drawn-out prelude.
To her irritation, Harold disengaged himself from her embrace. "Just a minute, Marian," he promised, his breath ragged as hers. "There's something I need to do first." Striding over to the door of his office, the music professor locked it. He then proceeded to his desk and unplugged the telephone for good measure, before turning back to his wife with a lopsided grin. "Just in case."
Although she was terribly keen to resume their canoodling, Marian could not fault her husband for his thoroughness. Their heated interludes had suffered countless interruptions over the years: Penny and Elly paying their father unexpected visits, students requiring assistance with their instruments, a display crashing in the front store area when the boys got a little too rambunctious, Tommy having questions regarding a shipment, parents calling to make inquiries about the curriculum, the members of the school board dropping by to see Professor Hill. There was even one memorable occasion when the Events Committee came calling to inquire after Marian, as they had been unable to determine her location all morning. Seeking a bit of respite from their endless impositions on her time, the librarian had purposely made herself scarce that day; little did the ladies know that Harold was keeping his wife hidden away in his office while he sent them on a merry goose chase all over town!
But it wasn't as if they had purposely set out to make love in the emporium. It was simply that their persistent passion for each other had naturally led them down that particular avenue and, as a result, there had been a few close calls in the past. But even if their trysts hadn't been interrupted, Marian would have been too scandalized to allow such mischief to progress to its inevitable conclusion.
At least, she would have been too scandalized in the early years of their marriage – and perhaps she still might have balked as recently as last week, even though she had offered herself to him during their reconciliation in the emporium the previous September. But this stormy afternoon seemed tailor-made for illicit lovemaking, and Marian intended to take full advantage of the precious opportunity the Fates had seen fit to afford them.
To the librarian's delight, Harold seemed to have the exact same inclinations. Giving his wife a conspiratorial grin, the music professor took a seat on the sofa and pulled her down to straddle his lap. Their mouths met in a searing kiss; soon he was inside her again, teasing her with the frenzied movement of his hips and varying the intensity and tempo of his thrusts until, unable to bear it any longer, Marian took control of their lovemaking, setting a breakneck pace until they were both shuddering and crying out with release once more.
Afterward, they lay spooning on the couch, Harold pressing soft kisses against the back of the librarian's neck – which made her shiver in delight and nestle even deeper into his warm embrace. The music on the Victrola had long since petered out, but the rain still came down in steady waves, lulling both husband and wife into a soporific and dreamy doze.
XXX
When the music professor and the librarian finally roused themselves from their sated slumber, the worst of the rainstorm had passed. However, even though their clothes were now thoroughly dry, the weather was still chancy enough that they decided it might be best to stay put for just a little while longer, lest they get soaked again. Although, to be entirely honest, Harold and Marian did begin to dress with the intention of returning home… by way of the Candy Kitchen, so they could indulge in a sweet mid-afternoon confection, and then perhaps the footbridge, as post-refreshment constitutionals were always good for the digestion.
But as Harold fastened the buttons up the back of his wife's dress, he was struck by the observation that, coincidentally, they happened to be standing in the exact same spot as where he had given the librarian her first-ever love-bite, all those years ago. Naturally, this led to the music professor voicing his reminiscence in a fond and flirtatious manner – time had long purged this memory of any lingering controversy or dismay. Due in large part to his wife's shameless encouragement of such overtures, Harold's mouth was once again exploring the contours of her neck and throat – but with great care and tenderness, as if it were their first time engaging in such heavy petting. He'd already made a small bruise on Marian's collarbone earlier this afternoon; her neckline was too low and her shawl was too sheer to cover any additional marks he might leave behind. And she couldn't get away with wearing a Mohawks banner or baton-girl jacket in public!
However, a little light canoodling quickly turned into something far more heated. Recalling one of his favorite Paris interludes, Harold hastily guided his wife to the nearest blank patch of wall. But as he pressed her against the surface and began to make love to her, Marian winced and squirmed in his embrace – although she valiantly strove to hide her discomfort by tightening her arms around him and capturing his mouth in a heated kiss. Realizing that her back was probably a bit too tender after their frantic coupling on the floor, Harold brought things to a halt and whisked the librarian to the place he'd most often fantasized about having her: his desk. And since the librarian had so helpfully cleared it off for him before they ate lunch earlier, there was nothing that impeded him from perching her right on top of it, knocking the chair aside, and stepping into her warm and welcoming embrace as her thighs parted to receive him.
And so husband and wife whiled away the rest of the afternoon in these pleasant pursuits, ardently and enthusiastically atoning for all the emporium trysts they had missed out on over the course of their marriage. Hours later, when both of them were finally spent and once again spooning quietly on the couch together, Harold gleefully reflected there was hardly going to be a surface in his office that he could glance at, without it triggering some wickedly delightful memory. His time alone with Marian this afternoon couldn't have been better – not even if they'd made it to the faraway field! But even Harold knew that sadly, all good things must eventually come to an end. By the time the music professor and the librarian had recovered enough energy to rouse themselves from their blissful stupor, don their clothes and set his office back to rights, it was nearing six o'clock.
Still, that didn't stop Harold from catching his wife around her slender waist and bringing her close to whisper half teasingly in her ear, "You do realize, my dear little librarian, that we now have to plan a clandestine afternoon at your place of employment, just to make things square."
"Mmm," she murmured in a sly but noncommittal manner as he nibbled at her earlobe, "we could try, but we'd never get my conscientious assistant to abandon her post long enough for a library tryst to remain our little secret!"
"Oh, I don't know about that – now that Miss Peabody is entertaining a serious suitor, it might be a lot easier than you imagine for us to achieve such a rendezvous," Harold said with a grin, shamelessly egging his wife further along in such tantalizing contemplations. "We could convince Mr. Hearst to take her on a long stroll or a seven-course picnic. Do you know, I saw them kissing in the drama aisle last week? And in the middle of the day, too! I think they were taking advantage of the fact that most of the library's patrons had gone home for lunch."
Marian laughed. "Yes, I've witnessed Jane and Mr. Hearst canoodling in the stacks, myself. They aren't usually so careless in their displays of affection – I think things are getting quite serious between them!" She sighed wistfully, and her smile faded. "When they finally do marry, she might just decide to leave the library after all – especially if any children come along. As much as I enjoy seeing Jane so happy, there is part of me that's grateful she's been taking things so slowly."
"Although Mr. Hearst is a widower, he doesn't seem to be in any particular rush to tie the knot," Harold said soothingly. "And he never had any children with his first wife, so who knows if that's even a possibility for them." Wanting to resume their flirtation before their mutual train of thought was hopelessly derailed, he resumed tracing the line of his wife's ear with feather-light kisses. "I suppose we could use the same ruse as when I arranged those two delightful hours to 'make things up to you' after your long-ago ordeal in the ancient history section."
Marian let out a low, throaty laugh and raked her fingers through his curls – two alluring gestures that never failed to send the music professor's pulse racing. "What – stealing her key, sending her on several errands on my behalf, and then 'accidentally' locking her out, should she decide to return early?"
While Harold was more than satisfied with the erotic delights they'd managed to achieve so far over the course of their marriage, he firmly believed a man should always have at least one unattainable fantasy to keep his appetite for his beloved whetted. And although he knew full well that wonderful afternoon was probably the closest they'd ever come to making love at the library, it was awfully fun to pretend otherwise.
"As a matter of fact, Madam Librarian, that's exactly what I had in mind," Harold informed his wife in a low, velvety voice, his mouth descending over hers for one last, passionate kiss before he escorted her out of the emporium.