cold. Drops of rain streamed down her face, merging and separating. Finally, she understood their dance was random.
Part 2: Marble
Doubtless it will seem strange to many that the hand unaided by sight can feel action, sentiment, beauty in the cold marble…
- Helen Keller. 1903
Reyna, Now
“Holly,” the woman in her arms whispered back. “I’m Holly.”
Reyna tasted the name on Holly’s mouth as she kissed her again, falling deeper into painful urgency. Holly clung to her for a moment after the kiss, shaking her head as if dizzy. Reyna could not remember ever having this profound an effect on a woman. It had surely gone to her head and overwhelmed her good sense.
Holly gestured at someone, a sketchy good-bye, then they were moving toward the door. After a brief delay to reclaim her jacket and helmet, they stepped into the cool, moon-drenched parking lot.
The pulse of the music inside the club faded to a dull rhythm. Holly stood irresolute, unfocused.
“This way,” Reyna said. “There’s someplace we can go about four blocks from here.”
Holly nodded and her voice seemed far away. “I’ll come back for my car later.” Then her gaze returned from some distant point and caught Reyna all over again, nakedly desirous.
Reyna dropped her jacket and helmet next to a parked car so she could capture Holly’s face in her hands. How could anyone be expected to give up this delight? Each kiss seemed to reach deeper, seemed to uncover yet more layers of need and longing in both of them. Was this what it was like to have a woman melt in your arms? There had been so many, and none had felt like this.
Her hands left Holly’s face to grip her shoulders, then sweep again over the hot silk that clung to Holly’s breasts. Holly trembled, murmured, “Yes.”
Only when the car alarm went off did Reyna realize how hard she was moving against Holly, how eagerly they were wrapped around each other, rocking toward their need. Holly jumped at the onslaught of noise and pulled away. Reyna caught her hand and with a gasping laugh, said, “We should probably get out of here.”
Holly was ready to run, Reyna realized, so she held tight to her hand until they were some distance from the blaring vehicle. “There’s no need to be afraid of me.”
Holly turned, her face pale and strained in the moonlight. “I’ve never done this before.”
“I have,” Reyna said, meaning it as a joke, though it was also the truth. Holly’s expression clouded. Her gaze fell to Holly’s breasts, taking in their rapid rise and fall and the hardened nipples that made her mouth ache.
Holly shook her head, but whatever she meant by that was lost in her breathless, “Kiss me.”
5
Reyna, Seven Years Ago
Reyna Putnam scraped the last of the strawberry yogurt from the bottom of the container. It had been cool and refreshing after the muggy unpleasantness of the uncharacteristically hot Berkeley day. She tickled Kimberly’s ear as she rose from the deck chair. “You want a beer?”
Kim didn’t open her eyes. Drowsily, she said, “Sure. I feel so guilty just sitting here, doing nothing. I’ve got two papers due and about a thousand pages to read before the weekend.”
“Me, too,” Reyna acknowledged. “But we can’t study every minute. It’s too hot.” As she crossed the deck of the little apartment they shared she could see the heat rippling off the Campanile. It seemed to be wilting.
The kitchen windows were shuttered against the heat. Blinking in the dim light, she didn’t notice the man seated at the kitchen table. Only when she had two beers in hand did the refrigerator light reveal his presence. The door swung shut and they were in darkness again.
“What do you want?” She spoke harshly; he had frightened her. Had they left the front door unlocked? No matter a locked door wouldn’t stand in his way.
“Is that a nice way to talk to the man who pays for your education?”
It was always that way with her
Part 2: Marble
Doubtless it will seem strange to many that the hand unaided by sight can feel action, sentiment, beauty in the cold marble…
- Helen Keller. 1903
Reyna, Now
“Holly,” the woman in her arms whispered back. “I’m Holly.”
Reyna tasted the name on Holly’s mouth as she kissed her again, falling deeper into painful urgency. Holly clung to her for a moment after the kiss, shaking her head as if dizzy. Reyna could not remember ever having this profound an effect on a woman. It had surely gone to her head and overwhelmed her good sense.
Holly gestured at someone, a sketchy good-bye, then they were moving toward the door. After a brief delay to reclaim her jacket and helmet, they stepped into the cool, moon-drenched parking lot.
The pulse of the music inside the club faded to a dull rhythm. Holly stood irresolute, unfocused.
“This way,” Reyna said. “There’s someplace we can go about four blocks from here.”
Holly nodded and her voice seemed far away. “I’ll come back for my car later.” Then her gaze returned from some distant point and caught Reyna all over again, nakedly desirous.
Reyna dropped her jacket and helmet next to a parked car so she could capture Holly’s face in her hands. How could anyone be expected to give up this delight? Each kiss seemed to reach deeper, seemed to uncover yet more layers of need and longing in both of them. Was this what it was like to have a woman melt in your arms? There had been so many, and none had felt like this.
Her hands left Holly’s face to grip her shoulders, then sweep again over the hot silk that clung to Holly’s breasts. Holly trembled, murmured, “Yes.”
Only when the car alarm went off did Reyna realize how hard she was moving against Holly, how eagerly they were wrapped around each other, rocking toward their need. Holly jumped at the onslaught of noise and pulled away. Reyna caught her hand and with a gasping laugh, said, “We should probably get out of here.”
Holly was ready to run, Reyna realized, so she held tight to her hand until they were some distance from the blaring vehicle. “There’s no need to be afraid of me.”
Holly turned, her face pale and strained in the moonlight. “I’ve never done this before.”
“I have,” Reyna said, meaning it as a joke, though it was also the truth. Holly’s expression clouded. Her gaze fell to Holly’s breasts, taking in their rapid rise and fall and the hardened nipples that made her mouth ache.
Holly shook her head, but whatever she meant by that was lost in her breathless, “Kiss me.”
5
Reyna, Seven Years Ago
Reyna Putnam scraped the last of the strawberry yogurt from the bottom of the container. It had been cool and refreshing after the muggy unpleasantness of the uncharacteristically hot Berkeley day. She tickled Kimberly’s ear as she rose from the deck chair. “You want a beer?”
Kim didn’t open her eyes. Drowsily, she said, “Sure. I feel so guilty just sitting here, doing nothing. I’ve got two papers due and about a thousand pages to read before the weekend.”
“Me, too,” Reyna acknowledged. “But we can’t study every minute. It’s too hot.” As she crossed the deck of the little apartment they shared she could see the heat rippling off the Campanile. It seemed to be wilting.
The kitchen windows were shuttered against the heat. Blinking in the dim light, she didn’t notice the man seated at the kitchen table. Only when she had two beers in hand did the refrigerator light reveal his presence. The door swung shut and they were in darkness again.
“What do you want?” She spoke harshly; he had frightened her. Had they left the front door unlocked? No matter a locked door wouldn’t stand in his way.
“Is that a nice way to talk to the man who pays for your education?”
It was always that way with her
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