Kayla Perrin - Obsession

Though the paper was still wet, I took it straight to the living room and taped it over the large wedding photo on the wall. Then I gathered the various framed photos of me and Andrew off the tables, carried them to the spare bedroom and deposited them in a large dresser drawer.

If only it were so easy to erase the memory of what he’d done.

4

Someone was stroking my calves.

Soft, flirty, circular strokes on my skin.

But who…? Confused, I opened my eyes and turned onto my back. In the darkened room, I could see his form at the foot of the bed, but I couldn’t see his face. Yet his touch was familiar, and I didn’t pull away.

The mattress squeaked as he eased onto it. His hands moved slowly up my legs, the tips of his fingers giving each part of my body they touched an electrical charge. He added his lips, pressing them to my knee. Then higher, on my thigh.

I wanted to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. Not when the sensations flooding my body felt so good.

His mouth reached the apex of my thighs. So did his fingers. He fondled my pussy, spread my folds. Curled his fingers around my hips and buried his face in my center.

My eyelids fluttered. As he licked and suckled my pussy, I gripped fistfuls of the bedspread. I arched my hips, started to scream.

Suddenly his lips were gone.

His fingers were gone.

He was gone.

No, he was still here. Soft suckling sounds still filled the bedroom. And moans. A woman’s moans.

And then I saw them. Andrew and a woman, beside me on the bed. The woman’s breasts jiggled as she writhed around. Her mouth formed a wide O , her pleasure intense. Her legs were over his shoulders and he was eating her pussy, slurping and groaning. Loving every taste of her.

My eyes ventured to her toes. Though the room was dark, the red nail polish glistened. My gaze traveled the length of her body, from her arched feet to her bucking hips to her jiggling breasts.

To the perfect O formed on her lips.

The woman’s eyes flew open then, meeting mine. She smiled.

I bolted upright, a cry escaping my throat. But then she was gone. Disoriented, my eyes flew around the rest of the room.

I was alone. Alone in my bed, my heart beating fast. My ragged breathing was the only sound in the still of the dark room.

My hand went to my throat. I was flushed. Aroused.

I’d been dreaming.

Exhaling slowly, I lay back down. I tried to get my heart to settle, but the dream had been so real. And startling.

For the next hour, I couldn’t sleep. The images from the dream haunted me. Andrew pleasuring another woman with his tongue, the expression of pure bliss on her face. I know it was a dream, but the very nature of it disturbed me. Had me wondering exactly what Andrew had done with this other woman. How he’d touched her. If he’d tasted her. The sounds she’d made while coming. The sounds he’d made.

If their connection was more electric than ours.

I needed to know.

I didn’t think I’d want to, but as I lay in bed in the dark, I realized there would be many nights like this. Nights when Andrew and this other woman came into my bed, the visions of what they could have done torturing me as surely as if I were witnessing their affair.

My imagination would be infinitely worse than knowing the truth.

That was what fueled me the next morning, got me out of bed early. I showered, got dressed and drove to the Pelican Resort.

Only to discover that Andrew wasn’t there.

“What do you mean he’s not here?” I asked Seth, the assistant manager.

“He’s with the lawyers,” Seth replied, looking confused, his tone saying he thought I knew this already.

“The lawyers?”

“Well, yes.” He suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“What lawyers?”

Seth didn’t respond.

“What lawyers?” I repeated.

A muscle in Seth’s jaw flinched. “I thought you…” He paused. “You need to talk to Andrew about this.”

“About what?” I asked anxiously, my stomach churning. So something bad was going on at work, something worse than the affair. Why hadn’t Andrew told me?

Seth held up both hands, the only response he gave me. Then he walked behind the hotel’s front desk counter and spoke to a young clerk.

She was blond, just like in my dream.

I turned away. Noticed Kathryn, the pretty receptionist who was an exotic mix of African-American and Chinese. She grinned my way, but I couldn’t reciprocate.

Had Andrew fucked her?

I turned again. Saw another pretty woman, this one dressed as a hotel maid. With her looks, why was she cleaning hotels?

Was Andrew fucking her on the side?

The thoughts going through my mind were making me crazy, and unable to deal with them, I all but ran toward the front door. Once outside, I leaned against a column and gulped in humid air.

Lawyers? What was going on? And why hadn’t Andrew told me about it?

I dug my cell phone out of my purse and dialed his cell. It went straight to voice mail, meaning it was shut off.

“Andrew,” I said after the tone beeped, “I’m at the hotel. I came to see you, but you aren’t here. I heard that you’re meeting with lawyers?” My statement turned into a question. “What’s going on?”

As I hung up, I found I was worried. Worried about Andrew and if the issue he was dealing with was a serious one. It didn’t matter that he’d hurt me: my protective feelings for him surfaced, and I hoped he was okay.

Two hours later, when my cell phone rang and I saw Andrew’s name on my caller ID, I quickly pressed the talk button. “Hello?”

“Sophie. Hi.”

He sounded calm, and that set my heart at ease. I asked, “What’s going on?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home.”

“Good,” Andrew said. “Can I come see you?”

“What’s happening?”

“I’ll tell you everything when I see you, if that’s okay.”

“All right.” My concern returned. Andrew might sound calm, but the fact that he didn’t want to tell me what was happening on the phone meant that whatever was going on was serious. “Are you coming now?”

“Yes.”

I hung up, and spent the next twenty minutes worrying. I was in the living room, the cat on my lap, and I stroked her as much for my comfort as hers. The moment the front door opened, Peaches leapt to the floor. I stood to face Andrew as he walked into the living room.

He looked worn-out. There were dark circles under his eyes, and a tired expression on his face.

“Andrew?”

He tossed his keys onto the end table beside the sofa before meeting my gaze. “Hello.”

“Why were you meeting with lawyers?” I asked, getting to the point. I didn’t want to be kept in suspense. “Is someone suing the hotel?”

“Sit, please.” Andrew motioned to the sofa.

I didn’t argue. I sat, and he sat on the sofa beside me. The light smell of his musky cologne wafted into my nose, and part of me ached to touch him. I longed for the familiarity of his lips on mine.

But his touch wouldn’t be familiar anymore, would it? He had tainted what we had when he had fucked someone else.

“I want you to know,” he began, “that the only reason I didn’t mention this before is…” He paused, fiddled with his hands. “It was bad enough telling you about the affair. I felt it was best to wait, give you a chance to deal with that first.”

My stomach twisted at the word affair . But I tried to push the awful feeling aside and concentrate on the here and now—the legal issue Andrew was facing. I’m sure that some women, learning their husbands had cheated, wouldn’t care if they got hit by a bus, or if they were struck with terminal cancer.