A Splendid Obsession

by Cathleen Galitz

  If such expectations weren’t reason enough to make him think twice about becoming more permanently involved with her, he also needed to remember that Kayanne came with a complete set of emotional baggage. Being a normal man however, that didn’t seem to matter nearly as much to him as the fact that she also came like no one he’d ever known before. Fantasies of her in bed paled next to the real thing. A pure sexual being, Kayanne exuded passion with every breath she took, making it impossible for a naked man such as himself to think straight. It had been all he could do to keep from proposing to her when he’d climaxed.

  The intensity of his emotions confounded him. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

  Why he felt the compulsion to protect this woman when it was clear to the entire world that he was the one who needed protection from her was beyond him. Of course, that didn’t change the way he felt about her. Smart enough not to fight something as elemental as his body, Dave accepted that he had to have her. It was as simple as that.

  His innate sense of optimism dawned as brightly as the sun the following day. Disheveled from a night of great sex and hard sleep, Kayanne looked beautiful in the early light. Dave bid her good morning over the plate of scrambled eggs and toast that he carried into the bedroom on a tray.

  Sitting up and stretching, she asked, “What did I do to deserve such special treatment?”

  Dave gave her a hungry look that had nothing to do with food. “You should know.”

  Taking a bite, she moaned with pleasure. “A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.”

  “That’s the plan,” he told her, wiggling his eyebrows maniacally.

  Sitting beside her on the bed, he took her hand in his and looked deeply in her eyes. “I have a question for you, sweetheart. And it’s an important one.”

  Kayanne leaned back into her pillow as if preparing herself for the worst. She put down her fork and said, “You have my full attention.”

  Dave took a deep breath and speared her with a sizzling gaze.

  “Would you consider moving in with me?”

  Kayanne nearly choked on her toast.

  When she’d been a little girl, her mother had drilled into her that disgusting old analogy about a man not buying the cow if the milk were free. Even now, as a grown liberated woman, she associated premarital sex with a subsequent breakup. Even though she wasn’t exactly looking to get married any time soon, the thought of cohabitating with such a sexy roommate held a whole lot more appeal than spending nights watching game shows with her mother. Her newfound closeness with Suzanne was wearing thin under the constant proximity of living in a fifteen-by-seventy-foot trailer. If last night proved anything at all, it was that Kayanne was tired of sleeping alone.

  Totally ignoring the emotional costs, she ran the logistics through her mind. If she moved in with Dave, she’d still be close enough to check in on her mother while allowing her the opportunity to adjust gradually to independent living. Regardless of where her relationship with Dave led, Kayanne wasn’t planning on living with her mother forever. Eventually, she intended to pick up her modeling career where it had left off. Full throttle.

  Getting hooked up with a hopeless romantic wasn’t any way to advance her career goals, but something inside Kayanne assured her that was the right thing to do.

  “This is sudden,” she pointed out, not wanting to ruin something so perfect by rushing things.

  “The heart knows what it wants,” was Dave’s sage reply. “And I want you.”

  “I want you, too,” Kayanne admitted.

  More than anyone else she’d ever met. She wondered if it would surprise Dave to know she’d never lived with another man. For her, sex was one thing. And commitment was quite another.

  “I’ll take the day off from work tomorrow, and we’ll start moving your stuff in right away,” Dave said, taking charge of the situation.

  Kayanne held up both hands. Heat rushed to her face. As much as she hated to, it was time to put a pin in this hot-air balloon before it set sail for Destination Heartache.

  “Hold on. Before you go getting the cart before the horse, there’s one more thing I should tell you.”

  In spite of the fact that she’d had lots of practice admitting her problem to other alcoholics at AA meetings, she found the words extremely difficult to get out. Once Dave heard her out, she expected him to rescind the offer. She toyed with the edge of her sheet, wishing there were some way of softening the ugly truth.

  “I’m a lush,” she said, averting her eyes from his.

  The fact that Dave didn’t act all that surprised set Kayanne back some.

  “That might be a bit harsh, considering that I’ve never seen you take a drink—even though last night you had to be tempted,” he pointed out.

  She started to argue, but Dave cut off any further protests by covering her mouth with his and proceeding to convince her without words why she’d be a fool to turn him down. Once she felt as limber as a rag doll in his arms, he did his best to reassure her.

  “We’ll work it out. Between the two of us, there isn’t any obstacle we can’t conquer. You just have to be willing to ask for my help. And accept it when it’s offered.”

  That he neither dismissed her illness nor turned away in disgust was nothing short of miraculous. A rush of gratitude filled Kayanne’s heart and spilled over in the breaking light of day as she contemplated the power of hope. Physically and emotionally spent, she thought she had no more passion to give.

  She was wrong.

  Dave caressed her cheek with the knuckles of one hand. The other sought the cleft between her legs where the glow of awareness rekindled the blaze that he’d started earlier. Intimacy arched between them.

  He tested her willpower with the tip of his tongue against the seam of her lips. Reaching behind herself, Kayanne grabbed the brass bars of the headboard with both hands and gave herself over to the pure pleasure of being dominated by a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

  He rolled on top of her, nudging her legs apart with his own. His mouth grew more demanding. His kisses more intense as he plied her with his tongue and plunged the depth of her mouth at will. Trailing his fingertips along her rib cage, his hands settled at last upon her waist, lifting her up so that she had no choice but to feel the extent of his arousal against her belly.

  Moaning, she kneaded her fingertips into his muscles growing slicker by the minute with beads of sweat. Dave ran his hands down her buttocks and drew her possessively against himself. Staring deeply into her eyes, he entered her in a sudden thrust that gave voice to her pleasure in guttural, nonsensical syllables. She threw back her head and gave herself fully to him.

  He filled her completely. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. Kayanne knew that she’d never find a more satisfying fit if she searched the world over. She clung to him in both desperation and faith.

  Dave took a labored breath.

  “Say yes,” he commanded through gritted teeth. “Say that you’ll move in with me.”

  Kayanne flexed her hips against his, urging him to succumb to the need to climax quickly. Unable to wait a second longer herself, she gave him the answer he longed to hear before exploding into a million shining shards of bliss. “Yes, oh, yes!”

  Only then did Dave pour himself into her, sealing their bodies tight and calling out her name as if flinging a plea heavenward.

  Spiraling back to her senses an eternity later, Kayanne came to the conclusion that nothing had ever felt as right as her decision to be with this man for as long as he wanted to be with her. It was pointless to doubt his goodness. After everything she’d told him, after all that he’d heard by way of nasty innuendo and gossip, he was still willing to take a chance on her. Only a saint could resist such stubborn determination. And everyone in town knew that Kayanne was no saint.

  Nor was she a coward.

  A woman who would rather live with mistakes than regrets, she was bound to her word—even if it was given in the th
roes of orgasm. Savoring the feeling of closeness that being in this man’s arms brought her, she snuggled up against him and let a sense of contentment wash over her. If it were in her power, she’d never move again.

  “There’s just one more thing,” she mumbled against the strong column of his neck.

  “What now?”

  Dave sounded incredulous that there could possibly be anything else to disclose before committing to their new living arrangements.

  Kayanne’s voice was only half-teasing when she posed a final question. “How are we going to break the news to Rose?”

  Having things all worked out in his mind, Dave was feeling good about life as he moved Kayanne’s meager belongings from her mother’s trailer into his spacious home. During the day, Kayanne would be away at work, unconsciously providing the impetus to move his plot along. And during the night, they could pleasure one another like there was no tomorrow.

  Loading the last of her boxes into the back of his SUV, he refused to dwell on the possibility that Kayanne may very well grow tired of playing the penitent and go back to her glamorous lifestyle. If that happened, Dave supposed he could always resume his boring old life with stuffy colleagues and dusty manuscripts. Worse yet, if he couldn’t make his writing pay off on a more regular and substantial basis, he imagined himself working for the family firm receiving transfusions of ink to replace the blood that Kayanne made boil with a simple look.

  In spite of his previous glib response, Dave took very seriously the acknowledgment that she was an alcoholic. Kayanne hadn’t been particularly coy about dropping hints about making amends early on in their relationship, and he’d noticed that she never drank in his presence. Having simply assumed she was a teetotaler, he’d been taken aback when she’d hinted at stopping by a bar rather than going to the reunion.

  Dave couldn’t help but wonder what effect her condition would have on his own life. While he didn’t consider himself a problem drinker, he did occasionally oil the creative pump with a cocktail or a beer, and the thought of going cold turkey didn’t much appeal to him.

  Would it be all right if he had a drink in her presence?

  Would she think he was trying to sabotage her efforts?

  The last thing Dave wanted to do was jeopardize Kayanne’s sobriety. He’d always taken for granted his ability to drink without fully realizing what a blessing it was to be able to stop at one or two. He hated the thought of sneaking a highball behind her back.

  He wondered what his parents would make of someone as complex as Kayanne. His normally reserved mother maintained that familiarity bred contempt. If that was truly the case, the living arrangements he’d proposed might well prove a fairly painless tonic to the romantic inclinations that were interfering with any presumption of logical thought. Every minute of the day and night he could think of little else but Kayanne. She was an obsession that threatened to take over not just his storyline, but his whole life.

  If Dave wasn’t careful, he suspected he might not fare any better than poor Jasmine, who’d paid the ultimate price shortly after Kayanne had stepped onto his porch. However unrealistic it was to think he could survive living in close quarters with nothing more than a nick or two to his big old compassionate heart, it was a risk he felt he had to take.

  Life with Dave was filled not only with passion, but also lots of fun. Having grown up in a home seeped in the odor of perpetual grief, Kayanne’s early existence had been marked by a frugality of both the pocketbook and the heart. Tender words were as rare in the Aldarmann house as disposable cash. Thus she had fallen in more easily with men like Forrester, who were prone to melodramatic bursts of angst and wild spending, than men like Dave, who smiled easily and often at simple things.

  His generosity of spirit even extended to his closet. He acted surprised that she’d actually brought so little along in terms of personal effects.

  “Over the years I’ve learned to travel light,” Kayanne said, subtly warning him in advance that he might very well come home someday to find her gone.

  But Dave wasn’t an easy man to pick a fight with. In response, he simply squirted a whiff of her expensive perfume in the air and took a deep breath.

  “I like the fact that you’ve made a conscious decision to acquire only the very best rather than fill your life with junk,” he said.

  Kayanne wondered if he was referring to past lovers rather than things as inconsequential as jewelry and fragrances. Recalling all the cheap relationships she’d thrown into junk drawers in the past, Kayanne thought this fresh-faced, smiling Adonis deserved someone less jaded to share the sunshine of his optimism. She didn’t want to leave Dave feeling as depleted as men such as Forrester had left her.

  When she attempted to underscore the fact that their living arrangements were only temporary, Dave refused to listen. Instead, he turned up the stereo and danced her to the bedroom, where he kissed such foreboding thoughts away, reminding her with each loving caress to enjoy the here and now rather than dwell on future miseries. Accustomed to using sex as a weapon, Kayanne found herself befuddled when it was used so masterfully against her.

  Generally speaking, life with Dave proved to be a picnic. Weekends and evenings were spent hiking, biking, bowling and playing tennis. Every so often he even coaxed her down to the basement to lift some light weights in his makeshift gym. Nights were spent exhausting one another in pleasures of the flesh far after all the late, late shows signed off. Not that Kayanne kept track of such things. Unlike her mother’s trailer where the blare of the television filtered into every room twenty-four hours a day, the TV was seldom turned on in her new home.

  One promising Saturday morning after staying in bed until the sun could no longer be restrained by the blinds, Dave suggested a camping trip. Picturing herself as some dark, Gothic maiden imprinted implausibly upon a Currier and Ives scene, Kayanne laughed at the absurdity of it before agreeing to go.

  On their way out of town, they stopped by the grocery store to pick up a six-pack of cold pop. Dave promised a mess of fish for dinner, and Kayanne had made dessert herself—chunky chocolate-chip cookies the size of his fist. She enjoyed filling the house with the aroma of comfort foods that had been off-limits for so long in her line of work. Participation in Dave’s active lifestyle allowed her to consume all the calories she wanted without worrying about weight gain. The unexpected freedom was a slice of heaven.

  “Delicious,” Dave told her as she fed him cookies on the way up the mountain.

  Kayanne was gratified when he raved how good they were. Grabbing her by the wrist, he ignored her protests and sucked melted chocolate from her fingertips.

  “Just a precursor of things to come,” he promised.

  A flame licked between her thighs. Generated from a white heat, the fire burned hotter and cleaner than any ignited from the desperate desire that had been extinguished so easily in past relationships.

  They thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company and the scenery as they drove to the picturesque Cloud Peak Wilderness. There, Dave wasted no time assembling his new fly rod. Kayanne whistled in appreciation when he stripped off his sweatshirt to exchange it for a cooler T-shirt. Grinning, he gave her his best beefcake-calendar pose.

  “You’re pretty buff for an academic,” she told him, resting her chin in her hands and admiring the view from the blanket she’d spread on the ground.

  Rolling onto her back, she studied an ideal Wyoming summer sky. Ribbons of wispy clouds floated across a blue so bright it warranted sunglasses. Squinting, Kayanne tried to remember the last time she’d been so happy. The answer came to her in a single word. Never.

  Dave asked her to spray him with a fine mist of mosquito repellent, which she did before handing him a bottle of sunscreen.

  “Mind returning the favor?” she asked.

  Kayanne was wearing cutoffs and a flowered-print halter top that brought out a softer shade of green in a pair of eyes that Dave said reminded him of aspen leaves in the springtime. Ka
yanne held her long mane of hair out of the way as his hands rubbed liquid sunshine into her skin. He lingered along the swell of her breasts where they peeked out from the sides of her top.

  “There’s not a soul around,” he murmured into her ear before slipping his hands under the halter to fondle their ripe fullness.

  Kayanne neither chastised nor pushed him away. Instead, she arched her spine and let her head fall back, catching strands of her hair in the sticky lotion not yet absorbed into her skin. The next thing she knew, Dave was untying the knot at the nape of her neck and nuzzling the hollow between her neck and shoulder blade. Reveling in the sensation of being so thoroughly fondled, she wondered if this wasn’t what it must have been like for Adam and Eve before they were tossed out of paradise. Isolated from the rest of the world, Kayanne felt no shame being half-undressed in the warm sunshine.

  Sighing, Dave regretfully retied her top. “I’d better get fishing before the sun goes down.”

  Kayanne donned an artful little pout. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you to stay a little longer?”

  “If I don’t catch dinner, I won’t have any energy left to do to you later what I promised I would.”

  He emphasized his point by covering his hard-on with an old fishing hat decorated with an assortment of flies and lures.

  “Looks like you already caught a whopper,” Kayanne teased.

  She declined his offer to accompany him to the stream, saying she’d rather read a steamy novel to get her in the mood for what was to come later—that was, if he could be counted on to keep his promises. Beaming, he took off. Kayanne surveyed him through heavy eyelids. Wearing a pair of khaki shorts and an old, battered hat, he looked better than any airbrushed boy toy of her past.

  The scent of pine filled her with a rare sense of belonging. Home at last in these sacred mountains, her spirit sang with the rushing river. She dozed in the midst of a meadow so thick with wild sunflowers that it looked as though it had been painted with butter. When she opened her eyes an hour or so later, Dave was standing over her with a stringer of trout. He couldn’t have looked any prouder presenting her with a world-record trophy sailfish.