An Appetite for Passion (7 page)

I long to cuddle to you—both face-to-face before we make love and spoons position as we drift off to sleep afterward. Before, I’ll hold you facing me, feeling your soft breasts pressed against the strength of my chest, feeling your bush blend with mine, insinuating my thigh between your thighs and tantalizing your love nest with the pressure of my leg. I am eager to consummate our passion.

You must tell me your favorite position(s), and your favorite forms of lovemaking.

My sweet Kari, think of me as you go about your evening. (You said a friend was coming over, didn’t you?) And I’ll think about you too, and try to get back online to write you a good-night.

Yours,

Max

She keyed in a quicker reply than usual, mindful of the dinner that would need attention shortly, and frustrated by that damn “E” key, which kept sticking. She told him of the change in plans for the evening—the sticking “E” key, Steve’s unavailability to help, Lylah’s cancellation, and Jeff’s willingness to step in. She detailed the menu she was serving Jeff. “I wish
you
were the guest instead of Jeff. What’s your all-time favorite food?” she asked him. Then, she gave him her phone number, chatted briefly about her day, and told him she’d answer his questions about sex later. Signing off, she dashed back into the kitchen.

Dinner was a half-hour from ready when Jeff showed up on the dot of 7:00. “Sheesh! Such perfect punctuality!” she said. “Your patient awaits you in the living room. You can get this chore out of the way now, or relax now and ‘operate on the patient’ after dinner. But either way, your hand looks empty. What sort of drink should I put in it?”

“Now, and scotch on the rocks,” Jeff answered.

Pleased that he was going to look at her computer right away, Kari fixed two drinks while Jeff sat at her computer with the bag he’d brought with him. He got the problem solved quickly, and they relaxed and talked while dinner finished cooking.

Jeff had changed clothes before coming over and was wearing jeans, a blue sport shirt...and, of course, his perpetual grin. Kari had changed into a muumuu, blue and gold and purple, comfortable and bright, complimentary but informal. She hadn’t felt she had to dress to impress Jeff. So she was surprised when he said, “That’s a very pretty-colored dress. It brings out the color of your eyes.” Lylah had once said the same thing about the same muumuu, but she hadn’t expected Jeff to notice. Men usually didn’t.

Dinner was perfection. Jeff did justice to her cooking, scarfing down seconds of everything, even the veggies. “Are the recipes a trade secret?” he asked. “Not that I think that, in my hands, they’d turn out as good as you made them, but I’d sure love to try.”

“He cooks, too!” Kari marveled.

“I’m full of surprises.”

“Well, dessert’s not homemade. It’s sinful, but store bought.”

“Too bad I didn’t know about tonight in advance. I’d’ve contributed the dessert. I bake a mean pie.”

“Apple?”

“Among others. Hey...I could whip one up now. Unless you were planning on kicking me out right after dinner?”

“Is that a serious offer?”

“I have been known to tease on occasion...but, yes, that was a sincere, legitimate offer.” He reached for his barely used paper napkin and withdrew a pen from his pocket, writing,
COUPON. GOOD FOR ONE APPLE PIE. ANY NIGHT IN OCTOBER...INCLUDING TONIGHT.
He wrote in decorative letters with fancy flourishes, and when he’d finished, he put the napkin on the table in front of Kari.

“I’ve never been known to turn down an apple pie,” she said.

“I passed a supermarket two blocks from here,” Jeff said, standing up. “I assume you have flour?” Kari nodded. “Salt?” And he continued reciting the list of ingredients, making note of what he’d need.

Kari had been bummed out over Lylah’s cancelling their get-together...again. But Jeff was as much fun as Lylah, and he liked to cook and bake. She had laughed her way through dinner with him, nearly choking on the Mushrooms Florentine at one point when he made an irresistibly funny joke just as she was swallowing.

He was back from the supermarket in no time, and as he prepared the dough and filling, rolled out the dough, and got the pie in the oven, he kept up a running commentary that had Kari doubled over with laughter.

They settled into two chairs in the living room while the pie scented the house with apple and cinnamon. Kari was drooling long before the pie came out of the oven. Jeff talked about politics, about the forthcoming election, about why Larrimore really was preferable to Badley, about the other races in the election, about previous political campaigns, and about the need to get more people involved.

When the pie was ready, Kari was surprised to see it was 10:00 already. “Do you take your pie with cheese or ice cream?” Jeff asked. “Or should I first ask which you have in the house?”

“Actually, the answer to your first question is ‘neither’ and the answer to your second question is ‘cheddar cheese and chocolate ice cream,’ but it’s usually American cheese or vanilla ice cream on apple pie.”

“No problem—I take mine plain too. I’m a purist when it comes to apple pie. I don’t believe in ruining the taste with anything extraneous. If it’s a good pie, let it be, and if it’s a bad pie, don’t bother.”

“Well, this’ll be a
good
pie...I can tell by the smell.”

Kari’s nose wasn’t wrong; the pie, when it had cooled off a little, tasted as good as it smelled. Jeff had even cleaned up the kitchen when he first put the pie into the oven, a fact at which Kari had marveled.

Jeff was very unlike most guys she had known...he seemed more like one of her woman friends. When he looked at his watch and said, “It’s about that time,” she felt regret that the evening was over...until she realized Max might be waiting for her “inside her computer.”

“Don’t forget tomorrow,” Jeff reminded her as he put his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll be there,” Kari replied. “What time do you want me?”

“Whenever you can conveniently get there. Grab a bite after work and come right over if you can.” Then, he opened the door, letting the night air swirl into the apple-scented house. Up high, Kari saw the moon, diminished since the other night. Again, she had the thought that it was the same moon that was shining down on Max. And she closed the door hurriedly after Jeff so she could rush to her computer, log on, and check for incoming email.

My dear,

I spent a pleasant evening. Lamb chops, peas, and mashed potatoes for a simple but satisfying dinner, then painted one room. I’m determined to repaint the whole house, but I’m doing it one room at a time when I feel like it, instead of making a must-do, hurry-and-finish, major project out of it.

Tonight I did the dining room. At the rate I’m going, by the time I finish the last room, it will be time to start over again with the first room.

Then I settled in to answer my email. Enjoyed your letter, but I’m eager to read your answers to my sexual questions. Do tell me what you like so my fantasies can be more accurate.

Tell me, too: Are your breasts doughy or firm? Both are good, but I want my fantasies as accurate as possible when I take myself in hand and relieve the pressure that thinking of you has built up in me.

Since “meeting” you online, I find I need to relieve the pressure much more often. My thoughts are filled with you at all hours. You pop into my mind at work, at play, at rest. You reside in my mind, in my heart, in my fantasies. You occupy a special place in my imagination.

What I feel for you goes beyond the physical alone, but I can hardly deny that that is where the results are most visible. The embarrassing protrusion in my pants in the middle of doing business is testament to your strong hold on me, and proof that my mind has wandered from work once again in the midst of what are supposed to be business hours.

If I can get there this coming weekend, are you free?

Yours,

Max

Well, if he was having to “take himself in hand,” as he so delicately put it, there probably wasn’t any other woman in his life at present. Relieved, and excited at the prospect of seeing him in the flesh, she felt very up as she wrote her reply.

Hi, Max,

I, too, had a good evening and am as hungry for you as you are for me. Jeff was able to fix the stuck “E” on the computer. I’m in good shape to keep writing you. I was concerned the “E” would stop working altogether. Then how could I type, “Yes—I’ll make sure I’m available this coming weekend!”—a sentence requiring seven “E”s?

Do you really think you can be here? When will you know for sure? I’m counting the days—hours—minutes till you get here.

And I’m not going to answer your sexual questions. You’ll have to meet me face-to-face to learn the answers. (Have I given you more incentive to get here quickly?)

Meanwhile, call me one of these nights...soon!

Yours,

Kari

Chapter 6

Max sat at his computer, reading Kari’s letter. She seemed so bubbly, so vibrant, so funny, so warm. But would she be the same in person?

Once, in the past, Max had been quite taken with a woman he’d met by phone...they’d been doing business over the telephone, but had had no occasion to meet face-to-face. Enchanted with her—she’d possessed many of the same characteristics he ascribed to Kari—he agreed to meet this woman for drinks and dinner.

After half a drink, he’d known the evening was down the tubes. The woman—her name was Helene—was vastly different in person than he’d expected from her telephone persona. On the phone, she’d been funny, flirtatious, and warm...among other characteristics. But in person, she was stiff, uptight, serious, and totally lacking the warmth that had drawn him to her.

If Helene could be that much of a disappointment...and he’d talked to her often by phone...what could happen with Kari, whom he’d never even spoken to? She might prove to be incredibly—and disappointingly—different in person.

Restless, Max got up from his computer and looked at his watch. Only 8:00. Not much of a TV fan, Max preferred pursuits that engaged him more completely. Now he debated what to do. He’d already finished the crossword and was too tired for anything as physical as painting another room of his house or working on the car he was restoring.

He finally settled on running a couple of errands. He could go to the supermarket, and he could stop by the ATM to deposit a couple of stock dividend checks he’d gotten in today’s mail. He had tomorrow night’s dinner in the house, but needed something for Wednesday and Thursday, as well as a few other necessities. He could also stand to put some gas in the car.

At the supermarket, he picked up some fresh rye bread at the bakery counter, shunning the packaged breads. There were no other customers at the counter, and a new young woman waited on him. She was friendly, vivacious, almost flirtatious. Max got into a spirited exchange with her, but when she seemed to be coming on to him, he drew back and said, “Well, I’d better get on with my shopping.”

Kari’s concerns notwithstanding, Max was no gadabout. He had no other lady in his life right now, and with his thoughts very much centered on Kari, he wasn’t looking to invest his emotional energy anywhere else.

In fact, when one of the regular cashiers got into conversation with him as she rang up his purchases, his thoughts turned, yet again, to Kari. This checker had a figure most women would kill for, though she had all the personality of a haddock in spite of a pleasant enough demeanor.

As Max exchanged the usual small talk with her, he compared her face with the photo of Kari’s face, scanned her body, and thought,
She’s got very impressive looks, but what good is that when there’s no sparkle? Now, if she had Kari’s personality....

Which led him to wonder about Kari below the neck. What did the rest of her look like? From her facial photo, he suspected she might be a tad overweight, but he couldn’t be sure.

Paying for his purchases, he scooped up his two bags and left the store, driving to the bank a block away. There was an ice cream store in the same shopping plaza as the bank, and he decided to indulge. A banana split seemed very enticing.

He wasn’t the only one with ice cream concoctions in mind. As he walked to the ice cream store from the bank, a rather fat woman was standing outside the store, eating a strawberry royale. Max slowed his steps as he caught sight of the generously proportioned woman.

His eyes took in every visible inch from head to toe, and a huge shudder passed through him. Then, he turned abruptly around and headed back to his car. Maybe he’d skip the ice cream after all. He took one last look over his shoulder as he walked away, and his lip curled up in disgust.