Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  He saw her, he knew her. He could touch all of the neglected places, the rough patches, the aches and overworked muscles, because he knew where they were. He knew everything about her, her body and mind.

  That was his map, his path to the place where her true self resided, because he needed to reach her. He needed her to know, so he showed her pleasure, his grief; he unleashed his power—a magnificent force—and now she was screaming, whimpering and wailing.

  She couldn’t put up a defense. She had no desire to. He could have her, make her nipples burn between his fingers and circle her clit until her lips trembled. He could dig his dick so deep inside her, his balls were pressed against her taint, all in an effort to make sure there was no doubt as to who he was. She needed to know him. She needed to be sure. She needed to see his true self, as badly as he needed to show it to her.

  But now that she was feeling it, watching him love her like a priest begging in front of a shrine, she was terrified. To know this man was to know love. It was on top of her, pressing through her lips, grunting—love—something she’d been searching for her entire life. And now it was taking over, and she was supposed to be angry; that’s how she felt when men came close, but his presence wasn’t the scathing intrusion he’d come to know. It was relief and passion, two bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, and he knew—if he moved a certain way—if he pushed his cock up and let it massage her, she’d lose control of herself.

  Caution couldn’t stop the inevitable. It didn’t matter how much she planned or thought things through; it didn’t matter what she did. The truth was that this force was more than him acting out his desire. It was the result of their individuality falling away, battered like a wall ready to collapse.

  He was breaking through it, pushing through with solemn determination. He was moving so fast, digging so deep, that she was being driven back by a rhapsodic symphony of sensations. It fell on her, a bucket of sheer heat and pressure. It overwhelmed every thought; self awareness was gone.

  He’d become an extension of her. His cock had found its place at her core, and now there was nothing—just his chest pressed against her own and the tide. There was no other word for it, but it wasn’t an external phenomenon. This existed inside her body—her stomach, arms, into the tips of her fingers, racing down her neck and spine.

  It destroyed everything. She didn’t know where it was inside her, just that it was there, and that she had never been so scared in her entire life. If he could do this, if he really was this good, she couldn’t deny him. She let him fall, kiss and hold her as long as she could allow it.

  When they were done, though, she couldn’t even give him a glance. She walked out, without saying a single word, and even though he didn’t say anything either, she knew that he was crippled when she left. He knew that she still loved him.

  23

  Water surrounded her head in a flowing veil, filling her nostrils and pulling at the edges of her eyes. She didn’t want to have to hear or see anything, so she locked herself in the bathroom, turned off the lights, and stripped down, so she could stand underneath the shower.

  It had been an infinite amount of time—taking in more moisture than air—and she still saw him, wearing his work boots, his old black jacket, and his hat—just a plain navy baseball cap—but he only took it with him when he went fishing. He used to stand by the hook near the door for an hour, finishing one of their endless conversations, before he left.

  He saw her sadness during those moments, so he allowed her to drag the conversation on until the very last moment, sometimes longer. He recognized her need and he did everything he could to counteract it. Part of her wanted to do the same thing for him, and she wasn’t sure what to think about that.

  There was a quiet desperation during those times. She wanted to shoot up off the couch, grab him, and force him to stay with her. She would’ve tackled him if she thought it would work. He sensed that too.

  She didn’t ever want to feel like that again. She was petrified. They loved each other intensely, and that intensity carried over during the chaos, their fights, and into his absence, plunging her into a deep, incorrigible depression; so pervasive and dangerous that at times, she thought of giving up.

  The shower water pounding against the tiled walls and flooring, reminding her of what it felt like, trying to fall asleep on the couch, listening to the rain. She used to imagine a thousand needles, driving themselves underneath her skin at once.

  It was a reminder that he was gone, and he might not come back. He was experiencing the same thing, drawn out over a period of fifteen years, and she knew it. She wanted to stay there, cuddle, have the perfect morning, but she was a selfish coward. She was hurting him, because she didn’t want to need him the way he needed her.

  Maybe it was too late. She shut the water off and crossed her arms against the cold. It took her a moment to find her robe in the dark, and once she did, she found that the fabric was thin. The cold pierced through little holes in the fabric, forcing her out into the room, where she had a long-sleeved shirt folded in the bottom of her suitcase.

  She was aware, while she pulled on her jeans, that there was noise outside, but she wasn’t paying attention to that now. She just wanted to manage, take a few, simple breaths, and enjoy her little sanctuary.

  This was a vacation. She shouldn’t have to be fielding off visitors or hiding in her room. And the walls seemed to have gotten thinner. Reina’s voice passed through like a spear through a rice paper wall. “Why did you do it? Huh?”

  Lori had no chance of getting through this if she didn’t do something. Reina would stay out there and shout and sob; everyone would see, giving the passengers yet another reason to talk about her.

  In one quick motion, she swung the door open, grabbed Reina by the arm and flung her inside. “You have gall, treating me like that,” the girl shrieked. “After taking him out, hooking up with him—the man I thought I was going to marry,” her voice cracked and Lori could see from the rosy color of her cheeks that she’d been crying.

  “I—

  “You should just keep your mouth shut. You don’t have any right intruding on my relationship. Why did you do it, huh? Why? How could you?”

  She had two fists raised, a mouth open and her eyes slammed shut. She looked as though her breath had stopped completely, and her body was trying to force out a sob. “He—

  “NO!” With fists flailing, Rina rushed forward. Lori stepped aside, avoiding her entirely and grabbed Reina by the waist, so she could hold her and let her sob. Reina’s head fell on her shoulder, and her tears came flooding in. “How,” she gasped, “how could you? How could you? How could you?”

  “I wanted to make Cade jealous, but I didn’t plan on doing anything.”

  “Of course not,” she pulled away, her face raw and flushed. “I just—why did you tell me? He was texting me, sending me pictures of you two, and I-I saw those, and I lost it. You couldn’t even call?”

  “He was sending you pictures?”

  “Mm-hmm, from across the room. You looked like Cinderella, you bitch.”

  “I had to be convincing. Anyways,” Lori added, “it’s over. Cade stuck him in the brig for pinching my butt.”

  “Really?” Reina asked, clearly excited by the news. “How long?”

  “Well, apparently, he was causing trouble with some of the other passengers, so Cade decided it would be best to have in there for the duration of the voyage.”

  “Do you think they’ll let me speak to him?”

  “I don’t know,” Lori replied. “I don’t think he’d go against protocol with something this important.”

  “But you can ask?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure how much I’ll be talking to him.”

  “Why not?” Reina asked.

  “I don’t know where things are going. I am taking time and space, and I think that should be respected.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. But you’re not going to hurt him, are you? He
seems so nice. It would be a shame.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Lori said. “I’m hurting him right now, simply because I’m not in his presence. I can’t take on that kind of responsibility. I have to think about my own needs.”

  “You’re getting there.”

  Lori turned to Reina, whose eyes were narrowed in her direction. “I will not be acclimated. I know that’s what you want. Him too. He’s banking on it.”

  “You’re a frog in a boiling pot, and you don’t even know the water is getting hotter. You can’t stop this.”

  “I can, and I will,” Lori said.

  Reina shrugged, fully confident. “Whatever you think you have to do.” She took an uncomfortable look around. “You can’t just sulk.”

  “No, you’re right. I can’t, but I can take my own damn time, and decide when I want to leave.”

  “Maybe you should distract yourself. Come to yoga with me.”

  “I don’t want to. That teacher hates me, and dance class is weird. Have you been?”

  “Just once, and you’re right,” she said. “But there’s got to be something.”

  “You’re bored, aren’t you?” Lori asked.

  “A little...”

  “Wait,” Lori went to go pull her tablet out of her room. “I’m sure he’ll let us go to whatever class we want.”

  “Oh, you’re right,” Reina came up to look. Lori pulled up the notepad and wrote out a quick note. Her screen went blank. “Did you charge it?”

  “It’s not dead. Watch.”

  The sound of waves on a beach rolled out, and a soothing voice said, “Welcome to Capital Cruiselines, and thank for choosing the Couple’s,” the voice turned robotic, “VIP executive package.”

  It resumed its normal tone, and a picture of a smiling couple, hitting a volleyball in a pool came onscreen. “Discover a new passion, learn something new, or just enjoy a moment together.” the picture faded away, replaced by a man tasting his wife’s stew in an industrial kitchen. “Our couple’s enrichment activities are optional courses meant to give you a stronger bond with the person you love.” The next picture was of a smiling pair standing in front of blank easels. They faded out, replaced by two twenty-somethings knitting together. “The courses are taught by experts in their field—award winners and celebrities—people who have made an impact, sharing their knowledge with you. And of course, we offer a diverse array of options. From rock climbing to knitting, there’s something for everyone,” she announced. A chime rang, and the list of courses came onscreen. “Tell us how you’d like to spend your voyage.” Lori scrolled past a picture of a couple stretching on yoga mats.

  “Next,” Reina said.

  Lori laughed when she swept to the next picture: a couple in their twenties, using ancient sewing machines.

  “No.”

  “What about pool aerobics?”

  “Not without a bhurka,” Reina said.

  “Hmm,” Lori stroked her chin playfully.

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “You’re actually considering it, aren’t you?” Reina gave her a shocked look.

  “I just think...”

  “No,” she interjected.

  “I just think that it’s a sensible option.”

  “I said no.”

  “Come on,” Lori stepped back, so she could envision it. “You wouldn’t be able to see a thing.”

  “Exactly, you’d be walking around, bumping into things.”

  “No, they have slits for the eyes.”

  “Like with ghosts?” Reina asked.

  “No, it’s like see through fabric. I don’t know. But it would be divine. I just wish I could pull it off. I’m tired of people looking at me, pressing me.” Lori swept her finger across the screen bringing up a picture of a steaming soup pot.

  There was a chime, and a voice sounded. “A refined culinary experience, featuring Jan Frazier, legendary chef and award-winning restauranteur.”

  “She must be ninety,” Reina said.

  “Eighty-four,” Lori corrected.

  “Well she is a legend.”

  “She is very accomplished,” Lori agreed. “I really wanted to take that class.”

  “Why don’t you?”

  “I suppose I will. What do you think? Want to go with me?”

  “I’m no good at that kind of thing.”

  “I’ll show you,’ Lori said. “It’s fun.”

  “Alright, but you have to do all the hard stuff.” They ordered two muffins, and munched on them while Lori went through the different knife cuts, how to chop onions, mince and peel garlic. She tried showing Reina how to hold the knife, her hand held out with fingers twisted, but Reina couldn’t get her thumb right, no matter how hard she tried.

  The class was held above the fine dining restaurant, where Lori saw Cade’s silhouette—her first glimpse since before she left. She had to walk across the spot where he was standing to get to the steps that led inside.

  The ship’s industrial kitchen was impressive. There were ovens with flashy touchscreens, capable of cooking any meat in any manner; 3d printers, their arms flitting back and forth, frosting and baking pastries, mixing sauces, and soups.

  The griddle was automated, capable of flipping meat with perfect timing—same with the fryers. Tubes above the oil connected with the refrigerator, delivering specific food items to be cooked at preset temperatures. When the food was done, the baskets lifted themselves up so they could drain and tip themselves over onto one of the plates, sitting on the line.

  Lori didn’t even know that devices like that existed. She had no idea how to operate or maintain them. It was daunting, knowing that things had changed so much since she’d been inside a state-of-the-art kitchen.

  The lesson, of course, wasn’t planned around robotics or software. There were two rows of metal tables in the center of the room, each with their own sink, oven and stovetop; below, shelves were overflowing with everything they would need for basic lessons.

  The knives themselves were sitting on a table in the front of the room. Lori stopped to get a look at them, well aware that her idol was a few feet away, standing on the other side of the table, where she’d plopped down a white tote bag.

  She was rifling around inside it, looking for something. She still looked like the exact same woman whose cooking program Lori used to memorize. She had an elegant, blond bubble, surrounding wrinkled porcelain features, a tiny nose—and a formidable presence, even with her short stature.

  When she finally pulled out what looked like a black rectangle, she looked up and Lori jumped away in fright. “To your stations, ladies and gentlemen.”

  She took a stool, next to Reina, who had laid claim to a station near the center, with older couples in front, on each side, and most importantly in back—good couples, smiling and behaving the way they were supposed to. They wouldn’t be watched or harassed.

  Jan went on when she was satisfied that the rest of the class was ready. “Now I know that some of you have voiced your concerns about using heat aboard the ship.”

  “It’s just not safe,” a concerned woman interrupted. “I mean, we’re rocking around, moving through the water. Things could happen.”

  “I agree,” a woman behind her said. “There are a lot of things we could do without heat—things I’d like to learn at some point.”

  “We didn’t pay to learn things that we already know how to do. I’ve been cooking at home for thirty years. I can handle the stove.” The original dissenter looked ready to hop over her table and tackle Jan to the ground. “I also think that as passengers aboard a dangerous vessel, we should have the right to choose whether or not we want amateurs cooking over an open flame.”

  “They could put our lives in danger,” the second woman protested.

  “Ladies, let’s talk this through,” Jan interjected in a calm voice and gave them a warm, matronly smile. Lori couldn’t help but admire her patience. The women hassling her looked mean, both wi
th thin balls of hair; the first, so black it was almost blue, and the other looked as though she’d been soaking her scalp in the purple shampoo women her age used—the kind that purged the sickly yellow color from her roots. It took on a violent tinge, exaggerated by the fluorescent lights.

  “I think we’re done here.” They turned around to silently confront the room. To Lori, it was obvious that they were hoping for a walk out. They seemed to be getting angrier. Nobody had moved, though some seemed to be keeping their heads down. “Fine.”

  The ladies turned up their noses, grabbed their husbands, and herded them down the steps, both complaining like two dogs nipping at the men’s heels. Reina watched the whole thing, her brow ruffled. She stood, waiting for a moment, until they were out of sight and whispered, “Don’t they know that this place is a restaurant?”

  “I think they were worried about amateurs,” Lori whispered back.

  “What amateurs? We all own stoves. They’re paranoid.”

  “People get funny on ships. They’re trapped and worried about sinking. It’s cabin fever,” she replied, her attention focused on the celebrity just a few yards away. She was the master of the room, calm and composed, measuring out cups of flour and milk. When she was done, she took an egg, thwacked it on the counter and poured it into a bowl before the whites could drip. Lori still had yet to learn how to do that, and she was dying to ask, but the others were starting to quiet. It was time for them to begin.

  “Raise your hands if you’ve never used a stove before.” People looked to one another, while she drew out the silence. Nobody raised their hand. “Good, now how many of you have set your kitchen on fire?”

  “Well I should hope not,” a shrewd voice said from behind.

  “Now how many of you think we’re going to set the ship on fire.”

  “Well, we could.”

  “And sea monsters could swarm the boat, but you don’t hear anyone bitching about that,” Lori said. “I want to learn. Leave if you’re just here to cause trouble.”