Substitute for Love

by Karin Kallmaker

  Her fingers slipped in, learning the shape of Holly’s receptive body, memorizing it, because — all lies she might tell herself set aside — she wanted to be here again, and again. She knew nothing more about this woman than how she felt in her arms and that private moment of history she had shared at the theater. There was no tomorrow for them, but the time she took to listen to Holly’s groans, to interpret them to flutters or thrusts, told her she did not believe it. There had to be a tomorrow.

  Holly could not believe that this hunger had always been a part of her, that this need to feel hard pressure deep inside her was her natural, long-denied desire. She had not even known she had such depths, with nerves that could explode in ecstasy. For a minute, maybe two, she could focus on everything Reyna did, everywhere Reyna touched, but it was soon too much to handle, not when emotions spilled out behind the pulsating physical sensations.

  Her mind spun to what also gave her unspeakable joy and she considered how a formula could express the exponentially cascading pleasure that surged through her — the constants were the muscle and sinew and size of Reyna’s fingers, and the variables how hard, how long each stroke.

  Her head exploded with the unbearably beautiful numbers of chaos, burning behind her eyes. She cried out, heard Reyna cry out too. They were identical but different drums, resonating to the same frequency. She lost control of her body, and let it say what her mouth could not: harder, deeper, take what you want of me, it is what I want, too…

  It ended with a stillness broken only by her realization the she had forgotten to breathe. For some time, air was enough.

  Silence took on life and she finally heard Reyna’s sobbing breaths. It took conscious thought and planning to move, but once she lifted one knee she found her arms would shift, then she could turn her head.

  Reyna was shuddering, but her gaze—those startling, fathomless eyes — seemed never to have left Holly’s face.

  Holly cleared her throat, tried to speak, but her throat was still too dry.

  Reyna was a sudden flurry of action, bringing them both a glass of water and helping Holly to sit up so she could drink it.

  Holly found that she was suddenly too shy to talk, now that she could. She studied the glass, the water, the sheets and blankets on the floor.

  “Are you okay?” Reyna finally broke the silence.

  “God, yes.” Holly could look at her then. She wondered how to convince Reyna to take off her clothes. She had no idea if she could do anything for Reyna that was as powerful and satisfying as what Reyna had done for her, but she wanted to spend the rest of the night trying. She dropped her gaze to Reyna’s breasts and could not stop herself from licking her lips.

  Reyna moved suddenly. “I’ll get us some ice.”

  She was only gone for a moment and returned with a full ice bucket. Holly let her drop cubes into what water remained her glass, though she could have gone without, and marveled that she had the power to make Reyna nervous. That had to be it — Reyna wouldn’t look at her now, and stood by the window drinking her water as if she could see out the drawn curtains.

  She finished the refreshing, replenishing water and set the glass down. “Come back to bed,” she said, her voice husky with desire. “That is, if you want to.”

  Reyna turned sharply. “I do.” She took the two steps needed to stand next to the bed, and looked down at Holly.

  Holly felt for a moment that Reyna was going to do something to cycle them into another round of lovemaking, something sexy and calculating. But as she moved to take Holly’s face in her hands she brushed the ice bucket off the bedside table and it spilled its contents onto the thin carpet.

  Laughing, Holly helped her gather the cubes, their hands tangling and shoulders bumping.

  Then Reyna drew one red and chilled finger down Holly’s throat. The cold shocked her skin and the sensation of being alive traveled over her body. She wanted again and was amazed at how stirring one finger could be. Then Reyna’s hands, cold and purposeful, massaged Holly’s ribs, slipped forward to her nipples. Holly was flooded again and could not think what her body could stand. She wanted to know, what could there be? She said, raggedly, “I want you.”

  She stayed where she was, kneeling, and watched Reyna’s hand slowly move to the refilled ice bucket. The melting cube was the color of Reyna’s eyes and Holly stared into those eyes when Reyna pressed the cube to the hollow of her throat. Holly thought she heard it sizzle. Drops trickled down her chest, merging and separating. The random dance was for her skin’s pleasure.

  When the ice moved to her breast, rested for a moment on her nipple, she felt her nerves stretching to cope with new sensations. The cold was almost painful, but from that grew a hunger for pleasure. A singing joy surged in her ears and she knew this was what her body was made for.

  She gasped for air and watched with a flutter high in her throat — my God, my God, my God — as Reyna put what was left of the cube in her mouth.

  It was Reyna’s mouth that had brought her here, lips and tongue teaching her new sensations inside her own mouth, but the power of Reyna’s hands had made her forget the pleasure Reyna’s mouth could draw from her.

  She drew Reyna’s mouth to her breasts, and the cold brought another shock, another flood in anticipation of an intimacy she could only now envision.

  The cold of her mouth melted against the heat of Holly’s breasts and she drew her chilled tongue over each taut nipple. Holly panted hoarsely, held her, and was rigid otherwise. Reyna sought the water and salt on Holly’s chest, then licked the tip of her chin. She hesitated, then flicked her tongue over Holly’s parted lips. A promise.

  She lifted her to the bed and spread her out on it, a beauty of stomach and legs, lushly female. She covered Holly with her body, kissed her throat, tasted her shoulders, used her tongue and teeth to draw in the eager flesh.

  “Reyna,” fervently, “Reyna… Reyna.” Another prayer.

  Soft, vulnerable skin was making love to her lips and the scent of Holly was drawing her downward. For her there was no act more intimate than this. Loving a woman was loving the way she tasted, the way she moved toward the moment of connection.

  Just before she submerged she remembered that Holly had never done this before, that it would be — no matter how much she anticipated it — completely beyond her expectations. Her tongue reached — my God, my God, my God — she tasted. She lost herself and savored every slick and swollen fold, slipping upward, in, then Holly’s hands were there, holding herself open so that Reyna could taste every receptive place. Reyna clung to Holly’s hips and drank.

  There was nothing she could love more than this, nothing that could make her feel more complete. Physically, she wanted nothing more. It had to be enough, it was too beautiful not to be enough. Holly’s hands were in her hair now, holding her in place. She had never tried so hard to please a woman. It had to be enough not to need tomorrow.

  She cried silently into Holly’s thigh when Holly at last let her go. Holly’s legs were trembling. The sheets were soaked. Tomorrow — she had to have it. There was almost nothing she wouldn’t risk to have it. Her mind churned possibilities as she raised her head and reached out again with her tongue.

  “Dear God,” Holly sighed. The sensation was like nothing she could have imagined. One moment she felt shattered yet completed, at peace yet yearning. She thought that there could be nothing more, that she understood the ecstasy that had drawn Audra and her mother together, that tied Tori and Geena, that Murphy seemed to be seeking in every woman she met.

  Then Reyna’s mouth was on her again. The newly discovered nerves inside her shuddered as Reyna’s fingers slid inside her. How could anything feel so good after all she had already enjoyed?

  Reyna gasped, “Can you? Again? Please, please try.”

  “Yes —don’t stop—”

  “I won’t—”

  “I can feel you there, inside me.”

  Reyna was groaning as she pressed her mouth into Holly and her finger
tips swirled over a knot of nerves that drew a hoarse cry in response. All that had gone before was making it take that much longer, and Reyna stayed there, knew she would stay there, for as long as it took. She was aware of time slipping away. The last movie was undoubtedly in its last reel. This would be the last orgasm, all Holly’s, and Reyna didn’t care if it took an hour or a day for Holly to get there.

  Holly wasn’t aware that she was cold until Reyna covered her with her body. The heat was so welcome. She was so sleepy now. But — there was something missing from the night. She couldn’t, at that moment, think what it could possibly be.

  Reyna kissed her thoroughly, but so tenderly that Holly felt a faint, persistent stirring of desire. “I want to be with you again.”

  “Yes,” Holly answered. “I want that, too.”

  “Look at me.”

  Holly forced her eyes open. Reyna was gazing into her face. She smiled at her. “I’m looking.”

  Reyna’s thumbs swept over her cheekbones. “This is all there can be. I can’t give you any more than this.”

  “Believe me, it’s enough.” Holly put a fingertip on Reyna’s lips.

  Reyna shook away Holly’s hand. “There can be nothing more than nights like this. I’ll be here next Friday night at eleven. If you want me to make love to you again, then be here.”

  “I don’t understand.” Reyna suddenly seemed cold and aloof.

  “It’s the way it has to be. I’m sorry, I have to go.”

  Something did not compute. Her tired mind tried to form an equation that explained Reyna’s behavior. “I don’t —why?”

  “I can’t explain. It’s just the way it has to be. Next Friday at eleven. It’s all I can give you.”

  Holly just stared at her, puzzled and torn. She would be a fool to say no to another encounter with Reyna, but she didn’t like the mystery. Possible explanations for Reyna’s behavior were unpalatable. A lover waiting for her at home was most likely, and Holly didn’t want to be part of that. She should refuse. Her pride alone ought to reject Reyna’s take-it-or-leave-it attitude.

  But just as she opened her mouth to speak — not at all sure of what her answer would be — Reyna said raggedly, “Please say yes.”

  She said yes because Reyna’s eyes were not aloof and cold, and because although she felt like she had done all the taking tonight, Reyna had need of her. She owed Reyna that much, to answer her need.

  Reyna had opened the door when Holly grabbed the blanket from the floor. Holding it in front of her she stumbled to the door. “Wait.”

  Reyna looked down at her and drew a shuddering breath. “I have to go. I don’t want to.”

  “I know,” Holly murmured. The blanket slipped to the ground as Holly coiled her arms around Reyna’s shoulders. “Kiss me.”

  Reyna did, stinting nothing, and then Holly let her go, taking some comfort in the fact that if she had drawn

  Reyna back to the bed Reyna would have stayed. She knew she would have stayed. There had been something more than sex between them.

  She rescued the blanket and sheets and wrapped herself in them before tumbling back onto the bed. She felt wonderful and tired. She found a pillow and curled up.

  Sleep swept in like the tide, but as Holly went under she realized what had been missing. Next week, she thought, next week I will touch her. Next week I’ll know the taste of her and what she likes. Just a week to wait… only a week…

  12

  “You’re looking rested and well, sweetie.”

  Reyna settled into the chair next to her mother’s bed. “I’m so glad you’re home again. I slept late or I would have been with you.”

  “Jean looked after me. I’m glad you had some extra rest. It did you good.” Her mother’s eyes were searching her face from the soft depths of many pillows. She seemed so slight that she made the pillows and the lightweight down comforter appear massive and smothering by comparison. “Were you out late?”

  She nodded, not wanting to offer the lie of having been at the movies. She didn’t like to lie to her mother. “I had a good time, but it made me quite tired.”

  Unfortunately, her mother seemed to want details. “Was it with anyone in particular?”

  “No one you know,” Reyna said lightly. “Those flowers are magnificent.” The arrangement was lavish. She didn’t have to check to know they were from her father. Her mother loved gladioli.

  “Those purples almost hurt my eyes,” her mother said. “If there’s someone special…”

  “No—” Reyna stopped because it would be a lie to say there was no one. There was not an inch of her body that didn’t quiver at the memory of Holly last night, of the way she had sounded, had moved, had wanted, had taken, had given herself. The swooping sensation in her stomach was growing familiar. She got up ostensibly to smell the flowers

  “There is.” Her mother sounded almost girlish. “Tell me all about him.”

  “Mom…” Oh God, she thought. I didn’t want to have this conversation.

  “Reyna, sweetie.” Her mother was trying to maneuver herself into a more erect position.

  “Don’t, Mom.”

  “It’s not so bad right now. I’ve still got hospital drugs running around in my blood.” Her grimace belied her words.

  “Mom,” Reyna admonished. “Lie back.”

  “Reyna, honey. Oh, all right!” The flash of anger in her mother’s eyes startled Reyna. She drew back from offering assistance. “I will if you’ll sit down again.”

  Reyna perched on the chair, alarmed by the high color in her mother’s cheeks. Her cheeks had once been like fine porcelain, but now they were crusted with the distinctive butterfly rash of her illness.

  “I don’t have time for silence, Reyna.”

  Reyna’s eyes filled with tears. She had not thought of it that way.

  “There’s something you’re not telling me. Are you going to let me die without knowing? Is it so terrible that you think I’ll stop loving you?”

  Reyna shook her head. “No, no Mom. I just never wanted to add to your burdens. I don’t want you to worry about me, ever. Because I’m fine. I’ll always be fine.”

  “I know.” Her mother gazed at her. “But I’m your mother. Thinking that you spend every night alone, that you work too hard to have friends. Of course I worry about you. I might be dead next week—”

  “Mom, don’t—”

  “But it’s still my job to worry about you.”

  Reyna blinked rapidly, trying to quell her tears. She thought of Holly and the chance she had taken arranging to meet her again. She had jeopardized her mother’s care to do it and felt as if she was being forced to choose between two primal desires. She loved her mother and wanted her to have as little pain as possible. She loved — no, she thought. She did not love Holly. A night together, even an incredible one, was not a foundation for love. To think that way was disaster, an absurdity. No, it wasn’t love. “You should save your strength for yourself. I’m okay.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.” Her mother’s stillness made her voice all the more piercing. “The pain is always there. And for a long time, because its always being there was new, and because I had no idea that it could be so much worse, I let the pain into my head. I let the pain be in charge. And then it got worse. I had a choice — let it be in charge and spend all day, every day, crying in bed. Or I could let it have my body and keep my mind for myself. So that’s what I did.” Her mother’s gaze was intense and Reyna wanted to look away but could not. “Remember I told you that the pain brought clarity?”

  Reyna nodded.

  “That’s what I meant. When I let my body go, when I told myself that I was dying—”

  “Mom—”

  “When I told myself that I was dying, I was suddenly free to think again. It wasn’t until then that I realized how much you had changed. I had been so caught up in the pain that I stopped seeing you. You walked in one day and I didn’t recognize you because in my mind you were still the girl who had l
eft for Berkeley. But you’re not a girl any longer. And you’re not happy anymore.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t worry about me.” Reyna fidgeted and wished desperately that Jean would come back to distract them.

  “Like I said, it’s my job and will be until the day I die. Which is going to be sooner than I had planned. So I don’t have time to wonder.” Her voice faltered and she suddenly sounded exhausted. “If you want me to stop worrying, then tell me the truth.”

  She was too raw from her encounter with Holly to find the acuity to counter her mother’s logic. She was right about there being no more time for evasions. Reyna had not considered that her mother might die not really understanding who her daughter was. “I met someone last night. Something happened.”

  Her mother had given up fighting gravity, and the pillows claimed her. She looked almost as if they would swallow her at any moment, and only her eyes would remain vibrantly alive. “And yet you look so rested today. Is he nice?”

  Reyna tried to say it easily, but the words caught in her throat at first. “It’s a — it’s a woman, Mom. There’s only ever been women for me.”

  Her mother closed her eyes. “Oh, sweetie.”

  “I’m sorry if it disappoints you, but it’s the way I am.”

  “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to tell me that.”

  Stunned, Reyna put a hand to her mouth. “How did you know?”

  “How could I not know?”

  “I — I wasn’t serious about anybody until I went to college.”

  “I had thought for sure you’d come home with a girlfriend. But when you finally came home I was letting the pain do the thinking, and I didn’t notice how alone you were.”