An Appetite for Passion (9 page)

“Oh, very!” Kari gasped. She could already feel him in the bed with her, feel his strength as he pressed against her, even feel every hair on his chest, his arms, his legs.

“You have a very sexy voice, my dear. Talk to me.”

She’d been thinking that
he
had a sexy voice, especially when he talked about sex, and his voice dropped into a lower register and took on the qualities of pouring honey.

Kari hesitated only a moment. “You
are
naked. Your body is pressed to mine, your strength palpable, your warmth spreading through me, your arms around my body, holding me tight.”

Max jumped in. “Holding you tight and stroking your soft, sweet back. But let me get one arm out from under you, and move the other one, too. I want to have them free to roam your body, free to explore your delicate flesh, your billowing breasts, the curves of your hips. I want to trace the outlines of your body till I know you by Braille, till I would recognize you among two hundred other women in a totally darkened room.

“My sweet Kari, do you know how you affect me? Do you know how I burn to be with you? I want to talk with you, cuddle with you, cozy with you and share the Sunday papers with you, sip coffee with you and eat dinner with you and sleep with you cradled in the crook of my elbow. But most of all, I want to make love to you.

“I want to trace up and down the length of your body with my fingertips and raise goose bumps on your silken skin. I want to trace the tips of your nipples and make those little bumps rise on your areolas. I want to kiss every inch of you and feel the dappled softness of your derriere, the giving flesh of your breasts, the firm protrusion of your pelvic bone, the warmth emanating from the secret place between your legs.

“I believe in preparing a woman first, not taking her in a rush. By the time I enter you, you’ll be begging me to satisfy you.”

“I’m begging you now,” she sobbed. “You have me in such a state, I can’t possibly last till this weekend.”

“My dear, I’m no torturer, but I’m also no magician. I can’t slip through the phone wires and magically appear at your end of the connection.

“I also can’t just pick up and drive over there tomorrow. There’s the matter of a little thing called work. I suspect you can’t easily get time off either. But the anticipation will whet our appetites for each other, and when we do get together, we’ll be that much more appreciative of each other, hmmm?”

“I doubt I could appreciate you by phone and modem any more than I do already. What I want now is to see you in the flesh, Max, honey...to touch you...to kiss you, cook for you, make love with you, laugh with you. To reach over and touch you whenever I want. Maybe
then
I’ll appreciate you more, but for that you have to be here....”

There was so much to look forward to, so much they could enjoy together: They would be able to share their bodies for real...and share a pot of coffee, and the Sunday paper, and a drive around her hometown, and conversation, and their aspirations, and stories of their childhood and families, and so much more, she thought.

“You are sweet, my dear, so sweet...and so desirable.” Max’s voice sounded tired now, but soothing and reassuring. Kari realized she was tired, too. The long day had taken its toll.

“I’m going to hang up now. Do you realize how long we’ve been talking? You’re worth every penny on my long distance bill, but you do need to get your sleep, and so do I. A sleepy stockbroker and a sleepy publicity writer are not going to do their jobs well in the morning. Good night, my dear, and sleep well. Dream only of me, and dream only sweet dreams.”

“No bad dreams for you either, tonight,” Kari instructed him mock-severely.

“I won’t be online in the morning,” Max said. “I have a seven o’clock business breakfast. But remember that I’ll be thinking of you. And I’ll be writing to you tomorrow evening. Do you have any plans for the evening?”

“Not a one,” Kari answered. “I’ll probably do laundry, balance my bank statement, that sort of thing. Maybe curl up with a good book.”

“What do you like to read? Never mind—we’ll be off and running, talking for another hour. Save it for one of the many things we’ll talk about when we get together. Meanwhile, cuddle your pillow and pretend it’s me...and I’ll do the same. Sweet sleep, my dear. Till tomorrow evening by email.”

“Good night, my Max.” She had almost said “Good night, my love,” but stopped herself in time. She didn’t really love him yet...did she? Could she? Or was she just beginning to? In any case, prudence dictated that she curb her tongue till she met him face-to-face.

Hanging up the phone, Kari turned off the light and rolled over, hugging the extra pillow to her as Max had told her to, though it didn’t feel at all like a man in her bed. Letting go of the pillow, she imagined him in her arms and drifted right off to sleep.

Chapter 8

Kari awoke before the alarm went off on Wednesday morning, feeling particularly refreshed. She luxuriated under the covers, feeling the cool, softness of the sheets against her bare skin while trying to recover the dream that had put her in such a glowing state. Then she remembered. It hadn’t been a dream—it had been Max’s phone call, providing the dangled hope of a visit this weekend.

Excited at that prospect, she threw back the covers and bounced out of bed. The carpet was cool under her feet. In a sensuous mood, she wriggled her toes on the pile and got into the feel of the plush fibers under and between her toes. She had not laid out any clothes the night before, and now she decided to dress in something smashing to celebrate her upbeat mood. Her red pantsuit would do very nicely. It was bright and cheery, had a thinning effect, and projected an efficient, executive image.

She flinched at her nude image in the mirror as she passed it, but was relieved when the scale didn’t chastise her for all those yummy desserts. Her weight, though not diminished, was at least holding steady.

She mentally went over her wardrobe, already debating what to wear that weekend. Kari wanted to wear something with a slimming effect like the red pantsuit. She expected Max to be somewhat put off by her weight, but if she could continue to captivate him while she was still dressed, and manage to look slimmer than she was by dint of selecting her outfit carefully, maybe by the time she undressed, he’d no longer care about her girth.

He’d be so smitten that her weight would seem irrelevant...especially if she could manage to keep the bedroom dark so he didn’t get a good look at her. Mentally dressing herself for the weekend, she grew nervous but excited, and her already good mood soared even higher.

Halfway down the stairs, she remembered Max saying he wouldn’t have time to log on in the morning, and momentarily her high spirits evaporated, but she felt too good for the disappointment to linger. A band of bright orange crested a bank of purple clouds to the east, as Kari saw when she opened the blinds on the that side of the house.
Red sky at morning, sailors take warning? Hell—I’m not a sailor!
While the coffee brewed, she logged on optimistically, but true to his word, Max wasn’t there.
At least I know why, know he’s not back with his ex-fiancée or something.

As if benevolent gods were determined not to douse her good spirits, the day at work went smoothly, and to top it all off, Lylah called at 4:30. “Doing anything this evening? Steve unexpectedly got a call to help out with something at Larrimore’s headquarters. I’m available if you want to get together.”

They went out to dinner at a new Norwegian restaurant. Kari had never met a cuisine she didn’t like, but there were any number she simply hadn’t tried yet for lack of opportunity. She mentally crossed Norwegian off the list of never-trieds and pronounced the dinner delicious. They went back to Lylah’s house for a while afterward.

Most of the talk was about babies. Kari felt doubly left out. First of all, she wished she, too, were starting a family. Put simply, she was jealous. Second, the forthcoming baby was a major part of Lylah’s life now, and an experience she, Kari, had never shared, could not discuss from an I’ve-been-there point of view. It made the conversation kind of one-sided.

More and more, Kari felt distanced from Lylah these days. Lylah’s life seemed to have moved into a whole new sphere. Kari could understand Lylah’s being caught up with the baby, but did Lylah have to let her enthusiasm lead her to exclude Kari from her life?

Kari felt uncomfortably jealous of the baby. She was angry at herself for this unworthy emotion, but there it was. She tried to reason with herself, but the jealousy overrode reason. She’d felt twinges of envy all along that Lylah had a husband, a forthcoming baby, the life Kari wanted for herself, but that had never gotten in the way of her friendship with Lylah. This was different.

She was jealous not of Lylah, but of the unborn life growing within Lylah. It seemed that the larger the baby grew, the more of Lylah’s thoughts and emotions it took up till Lylah had no time and no thoughts for her best friend—or was it
former
best friend?—anymore.

Her life was an endless round of baby-clothes-shopping expeditions, obstetrician appointments, natural childbirth classes, parenting seminars, self-help groups, discussions with women who already had kids.... Not only didn’t Kari have a husband and child of her own, as she wanted, but she felt that now she’d lost her best friend, too. Lylah never had time for her anymore, and on those rare occasions when she did, all she ever wanted to talk about was the baby.

When Lylah bubbled with enthusiasm, pronouncing potential baby names aloud to see how they sounded, discussing the side effects of pregnancy—she was past the morning sickness, but the frequent peeing had returned)—and voicing her fears about childbirth, Kari could only listen. At best she could offer intelligent commentary or secondhand information. But she couldn’t offer firsthand advice or even say, “Yes, I know. I remember.” She didn’t. Pregnancy was a land she had never visited, and much as she coveted the journey, she lacked the passport—a husband.

“Isn’t this darling?” Lylah gushed, holding up one tiny item of clothing after another. There were clothes she had bought, hand-me-downs from various friends, and even a smattering of early gifts. More and more, Kari found herself forcing her enthusiasm till she began to debate pleading tiredness and leaving quickly. In fact, Max might have written her by now.

“And what’s new in your life?” Lylah asked. “I know you’re volunteering for Larrimore, but what else is happening with you? How’s the new Internet connection? Are you learning to surf the Net?”

“I’ve met a man.”

“Where?”

“Online. But he might be coming here this weekend. I’m waiting to hear for sure.”

“Where’s he staying if he comes?”

“With me—of course!”

“You’re going to let a stranger into your house? How do you know he’s not a nutcase?”

“He’s not a nutcase and he’s not a stranger. We’ve been talking by email for weeks now. We even talked by phone last night.” She pressed her thighs tightly together at the memory, and flares went off in the cleft between her legs. “If I were the kind of woman to ‘do’ bars, and I picked a guy up there and took him home, would that be any safer?”

“No, but I’d worry about that, too.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about Max.”

“What about you—are you worried? What if he shows up and you find you don’t like each other in person? What if you have nothing to talk about? What if he’s ugly...or if he doesn’t like your looks?”

“Relax. We’ve exchanged pictures.”

“Suppose he snores like a steam engine, picks his teeth with your Things to Do list, smokes a cigar, stinks up the bathroom, doesn’t bathe, has nasty teeth....”

“Stop it! Why are you determined to ruin my weekend in advance?”

“One of us has to be sensible, sweetie, and it obviously isn’t you.”

“Max is coming this weekend, and that’s that. And I’m going to have a good time with him, and that’s
that.
Since when are you so sensible and serious? Where’s my fun-loving friend? I finally get to spend an evening with you...and you’re not
you
anymore.”

“I guess impending motherhood has brought out my maternal instincts.”

“Well, can it and just be my friend again. Like the old days.”

“Sweetie, people change. We’re all growing, stretching. You too.”

Yes, but we’re growing in different directions.
“Is it motherhood that’s made you so serious, or are you just grouchy from lack of sex? Or has the doctor taken sex off your no-no list?”

“No, I’m still not allowed that pleasure. Poor me. Poor Steve, too! Thank God I trust him. I think this no sex thing is even harder on him than on me. With all those pretty volunteers at Larrimore’s headquarters, I’d be worried if I didn’t absolutely trust my husband.”

“Well, be grateful for that. Now, ease up on Max. Trust him too. Just be happy for me. Be glad I’ve met someone. Who knows where it could lead?”

Lylah reached out and patted Kari’s stomach. “Who knows? By this time next year you could be married and pregnant...and be proud of your size. You’d be rotund for a good cause.”