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She cupped his head and pulled his lips down to hers. She tasted of brine and toothpaste. |
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They had lunch at a kind of seafood Kmart at the end of the next pier and made believe it served the finest cuisine in the world. Kyna ordered shrimp dipped in beer batter, coconut and almonds, and Cyrus had a New York strip steakextra rare. Kyna even managed to make a joke out of that. Afterward they checked into a twelve-room motel and paid an exorbitant price for a gas fireplace and a picture window that overlooked Monterey Bay. |
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As soon as Cyrus finished unpacking his overnight bag, he grabbed his wallet, told Kyna he'd be right back and ran down to the local liquor store. A storm had blown up from the west and walking through the fog and rain was like trying to walk through a bunch of wet sheets flapping on a clothesline. The trees were heavy with water and the meager lights that lined the back streets did little to dispel the gloom. It was not a good night to be out roaming the byways alone. The memory of what happened in the back of Paula's shop kept replaying in his headthe insane look on the witch doctor's face, the look on the postman's face when the light beam struck him. Cyrus's home, his friends, his life, seemed like a story from a child's novel that he had read one time on another planet. |
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He returned to the room with a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. After he got the fire going, they sipped the wine from a pair of water glasses while sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace with a blanket draped over their shoulders like plains Indians. Before they knew it, the wine was half gone and they began to kiss. Slowly at firstlips, tongue . . . teethuntil their passion matched the intensity of the storm. Almost too late, Cyrus spread the blanket and then carefully undressed Kyna, drawing out the undoing of each button and clasp until she was writhing with need. They made love like two puppies |
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