Myka was stunned back into reality as her fingers traced the sharp cheekbones, the full lips and defined jaw.
"Sherry?" Helena asked.
Myka breath caught as she watched the woman enter the room, two ornate glasses in her hand, her own hand jerking away from the cold marble bust.
"She kind of looks like you?" Myka stumbled as her one hand, the feel of the cold marble still lingering, was shoved deep into her pants pocket. Her other hand reaching for the glass, trying, and failing miserably to ignore the spark of electricity that shot up her arm.
"You think so?" Helena retorted, feeling, before observing, the uncomfortableness building in the taller woman's shoulders.
"Well, yeah … sort of," Myka's hand just not quite brushing her own loose curls as she waved her hand. "You know, the hair …" Myka then scrunching her nose at the smell of the Sherry.
"Cheers," Helena whispered as she raised her glass. Myka then smiling shyly as she raised her own glass.
Helena could feel the conflict warring inside the young woman, thoughts of lust waged over deep seated guilt and shame … something Helena could not quite see. 'A parent?' she theorized, had once scared this beautiful soul from her true passion.
Myka wandered around, the room feeling more like wing in some small museum, then a home. Her eyes darting away at each glance from Helena, her fingers tracing over the Cello that sat in the corner of the room as Helena played.
"I hope I am not holding you from anything?"
"Such as?" Helena smiled as she then studiously kept her eyes trained on the keys, wanting the woman to relax, to find her hidden self and to release the repressed desires buried deep, for so long.
"I don't know …" Myka turning her gaze away from her, her eyes down cast toward her libation, "lunches and trips to the museum to fill your time," Myka said, her boldness rising as she neared the piano, "Are you lonely? I mean … now that your husband is … away?"
Helena just smiled, turning her attention back to her piano, feeling sadness at her loneliness, only to be fretted away by a small surge of jealousy radiating from the doctor, then as quickly as it surged, Helena felt it ebb back. To be replaced by a hint longing and curiosity.
"What is that you are playing?" Myka asked, the Sherry, and something else, caused her hips to sway as she passed by Helena, the warmth was palpable as Myka smiled, feeling the sweet sting of the amber liquid down her throat.
"It's Lakme by Delibes," Helena replied, her eyes staring down at black and white as she concentrated on the ivory keys.
"Lakme?" Myka questioned as she rounded Helena, the heat not lost on the older woman as she passed near, Myka then sitting on a chair near her, tossing her long leg over the arm of the chair, a boldness that she would have never let show. "What is it about?" Myka asked as she leaned forward, giving the beauty before her, her undivided attention.
"It is the story of a Brahman princess and her slave named Monleka,"
"Monleka?" Myka interrupted as she sipped on her Sherry.
Helena turned from the piano, flashing a grin to the woman, turning as she continued to tell the story.
"They sing as they follow the stream to its source, gliding over the water," Helena smiled to herself as she played.
"Is it a love song, Mrs Wells?" Myka shifting her eyes down as she rubbed her fingers together, a nervous tick she had picked up years before. The overwhelming pull of love … lust, yes lust drew her to long repressed memories;
As a doctor at the clinic, she had seen firsthand the prejudice against anything resembling gay. In thanks to the AIDS outbreak in the past few years. She had always repressed her desires, her lust for the fair sex, mostly in fear at her father's words.
"Those damn heathens deserve what God has given them," he retorted one night on the phone with his daughter. Jeannie had been expressing her fears of Myka contracting the disease.
"Mom, really, I'm fine. Its field research with monkeys, no human contact," Myka had smiled into the phone as her mom worried. She rubbed the back of her neck, pacing the apartment she shared with Pete as she heard her father grab the phone from her mother.
"You steer clear of those queers," Mr Bering had shouted into the phone, Myka holding the ear piece away as he spouted his hate.
Ever since she was a young child, she knew she was different. Once hiding away in the attic of her parent's bookstore after she had purchased a copy of 'The Well of Loneliness' from a rival bookstore. She had felt like an outsider, peering through the outside window into a world just out of her grasp.
Myka had sighed in relief when she had met Pete in college, her 'beard' and best friend for so many years until the pressure of the world and her parents forced her into his bed.
She dared one time to tell him of a drunken tryst with another girl at a Frat party they had attended their sophomore year. Pete wagging his eyebrows, the Neanderthal quip was not lost on her, "Can I watch" he asked in a drunken stupor, just before he attended his first AA meeting. Myka sitting at the rear of the room, sipping on bad coffee and nibbling on a cheap cookie as she watched him with a wink and sure smile as he took his white chip.
So she chose to hide her proclivity toward the fairer sex, forcing herself to accept the invitation from their sophomore year. Ever since, they had been joined at the hip.
That one slip, the year she had a break between graduation and her residency ship when she spent half the year at her parent's bookstore;
The bell had rung over the door of the book store; her father was in New York bidding on a rare HG Wells first edition. Dark hair billowed from the harsh winter winds as the young woman strode into the store. "Welcome to Bering and Sons, anything I can help you with?" Myka had said automatically, her nose buried in a book as she felt the heat from the young woman invade her personal space.
"The present of those green eyes at LaSpada's for dinner this Friday night?" Dark hazel eyes training on hers as they both held their breath.
"Chrissy!" Myka whispered, not looking up as she closed the folio she was reading. Her leaning back into the warm embrace of her collage tryst.
"Pick you up on the corner at six?" she whispered against the shell of Myka's ear.
Myka sighed as she leaned against the warmth of the embrace, "Make it down by the hardwood store at seven," Myka whispered. as she leaned her head back on that slim shoulder.
"Myka, your dad will be …" Jeannie stopping short as she stumbled around the book case.
"So how bad did your mom freak?" Chrissy asked, Myka entranced as she watched the thin strip of pasta slip past her lips.
"Not as bad as my Dad, if she had told him," Myka shrugged as she sipped the last of the wine from her glass. Then watching as Chrissy poured some of the semi- good Merlot, her fingers pressing around the wicker on the bottle, filling Myka's glass. "Easy there, you trying to get me drunk?" Myka smiled over the rim of her glass.
"Maybe?" Chrissy smirked, "As I remember, red wine plus Myka equals heaven," she smiled.
"I can't, really. My parents are paying for everything and I am so close to this new job in New York and …" Myka's face turning red as she rambled.
"Hey! Breath there Mykes," Chrissy replied, her thumb soothing over Myka's hand, "I'm just here for a few days before I hit UCLA. I was just hoping you and I might … enjoy each other before I head west?"
"Maybe," Myka said with a shaky breath, then downing the last of the cheap wine from her glass, "Only if you play your cards right," Myka then grinned, tossing some bills down to cover their meal as she got up,"You coming?" she asked, grabbing the bottle off the table as Chrissy followed out the door of the little Italian restaurant.
"You … are such a … bottom," Chrissy rasped in Myka's ear. They had parked in a secluded alley, the car running to keep the heat flowing.
"Screw you," Myka moaned as Chrissy lifted her leg over the parking brake, pressing her two fingers deeper.
"Bottom, my ass," Myka growled as she rolled them both over, her ass pressing against Chrissy's steering wheel as Myka latched onto her neck, her teeth nipping as she pushed her long fingers into her former college tryst.
The slight gasp of pain from Chrissy caused Myka to still her hand, biting Chrissy's lower lip as the girl's fingers tangled in her curls.
"Myka … please," the pain at the yanking of Myka's hair caused her head to dart up, her eyes scanning up and down Chrissy face as she started to remove her fingers. "No, don't you dare leave me like this," Chrissy pleaded.
Myka kissed the tears streaming down the girls cheeks as Chrissy grabbed Myka's hand, her hips thrusting deeper into her fingers. Her whimpers caused a flood of tears down Myka's cheeks, her face taut as Chrissy gripped her face with both hands, forcing Myka's lips toward the trickle of blood that was now running down from the bite of her bottom lip.
"Don't …" Chrissy's words cut short as the wave of ecstasy washed over her body, her hips thrusting up against her palm as Myka licked and cleaned every drop of red off her chin. The taste of copper, of her, forever burned into her memory.
"It sounds like a love song," Myka responded. The sound of her voice shook Helena from the shared memory of Myka's past, of her blood lust and dominance over the young girl from her past.
Myka's eyes flicked back up at the woman, her nerves shaking as she waited. Too long she had been in the closet, the fear grating at her.
Myka could no longer take the silence, breathing a deep breath, she asked;
"Are you hitting on me, Mrs Wells?" Myka's nerves spiking up as her eyes shot down.
"Helena," she answered, trying her best to hide her heart's pounding at the stolen glimpse of Myka's past, Myka none the wiser.
"Helena?" the full sensation of her name rolling off her lips.
"None that I am aware of, Myka," Helena replied. A smirk playing at the corner of her mouth, repressing the urge to grab, to have Myka whimpering under her. Helena knew, all too well, that time and letting her prey, her Myka, come in to her own, was needed.
Myka shook her head, her lopsided grin spreading as she sipped her drink, a drop of vermillion liquid then spilling on her white t-shirt.
"Oh no," Myka whined. She tugged a tissue from her pocket as she tried to wipe the stain from the white of her shirt, shooting up from her seat.
Helena smiled inwardly to herself as she closed the lid to the piano, "I have something you can change into," Helena smiled. Myka lifted her eyes as she watched Helena leave the room, trying her best to remove the stain from her shirt.
Myka puffed her chest out, gripping at the hem of her white t shirt, tugging it tighter against her breasts as she wiped at the stain. Only seconds passed as she watched the older woman saunter to her, a smile playing across her lips.
"All I have is a towel," the low timber from the woman shot straight through her, silently cursing herself as her body reacted to the phantom touch of the woman's haunting voice.
Helena crossed her legs on the chair near her as she sat down, the towel dangling from her hand as she watched the younger woman turn away from her searing gaze, her smile growing as she watched Myka bend her head, the blush fading as the younger woman turned away, removing the white t-shirt off her body.
Helena gasped at the sight of strong back muscles flexing as Myka removed her shirt.
"Years of jogging and working out finally paying off," Myka smirked to herself. Her blush rushing as to her cheeks at the presumption of egotistical thoughts as she turned.
"Where is this ego coming from?" Myka thought, then her blush growing full hilt as she remembered she was not wearing a bra. "My, god," she rushed under her breath. "I've never gone a day since thirteen without wearing a bra," she panicked. Highly aware of her harden nipples.
Myka then felt a wave of serenity wash over her, a feel of confidence as she turned, her chest bare as she held the soiled shirt in her hand, tentatively holding it out as the older woman uncrossed her legs. A lascivious smile curling Helena's lips, her push of longing had overcome Myka's insecurity, 'well needed' Helena thought as she stalked toward the younger woman.
Helena cursed inwardly, trying to control Myka's fears of inadequacy, her hand shaking as she reached for the soiled garment. Her fingers sliding across unsure fingers as she handed the white cloth to the younger woman. Her smile a sly crescendo across her lips as she saw green eyes sparkle, pupils blown dark by lust from Helena's wanton desires for this beauty.
This seduction was her most heartfelt, the most thrilling. The hunt, the trap, the capture of lust, of now, the soul. But Myka was so much more than just the conquest, a meal. Helena's heart coming to life as no other had caused.
Her mind clouded over, her blood lust was quelled by emotions, that small muscle she thought was dead now guiding her every move, her every breath. In the short time spent with the young doctor, Helena knew she was to become her mate.
Helena sucked in a sharp intake of air, her fingers then tentatively feeling strong chest muscles, the push with each excited breath against her fingertips as her hand slid upward, the stiffening of Myka's nipples brushing against her palms. Her breath catching in her throat as Helena felt the thumping of Myka's heart beat upon her fingertips, watching as the younger woman moisten her lips.
Her own moistened her bottom lip, feeling the overpowering desire from within Myka; the desperate need of theirs lips, their bodies to become one. Helena slid her fingers up to the base of Myka's neck, the soft, fine curls tickling the pads of her fingers as she wrapped them around the younger woman's neck, drawing their lips together.
Myka released her held breath as she felt Helena's lips gracing hers. A kiss so soft, but urgent, so pleading in the same breath. Myka's head was muddled with thoughts racing everywhere, of Chrissy, of her father's harsh words.
The soft moan from the pressing against Helena's body shook all hesitations from her, her next semi-coherent thought was the feel of Helena's pure, cool skin against hers. The firm tongue drawing what little thought Myka had into submission as Helena's lips and teeth nipped at her hip bone.
Somewhere between the music room and the bedroom, Myka had lost time as she fell into Helena's bed. The seduction, flashes of clothes removed, of skin bared with the slip of Helena's dress over her fingers. Myka released a loud groan at the fresh memory of Helena kissing down her quivering stomach muscles. The older woman, on her knees, slid her slacks down, nudging her leg to lift up as to allow her to divest her completely. Her body shaking as Helena left heated, searing seals of her lips up Myka's long legs.
"You are Aphrodite, incarnate," Helena rasped against the shell of her ear as she laid them both down. Myka's tangled fingers through black locks caused a sharp gasp of air. Myka tilting that heavenly face upward with a firm tug at those raven locks that slipped through her fingers, green meeting black as she leaned down, kissing the furrowed brow.
"Then show me," Myka whispered, her eyes pleading, fingers sure.
"As you wish," the deep-throated growl escaping from Helena's soul.
...
"Yours," the sound foreign to Helena's ears as it escaped from Myka's lips, hips bucking in wild abandon.
"Mine," Helena growling into Myka's soft folds. The sharp force of fingers digging into Myka's hip bones, grateful for what little coherent thought remained, stilled them down into the soft, downy bed. That rough, firm tongue conducting her body to a height of bliss she had never before experienced.
Myka was completely lost in her haze; her orgasm was lulling into submission, but still causing shivers throughout her thighs as Helena slid up her body. Helena's arm held her weight, her body resting against Myka's, their lips barely brushing together as Helena breathed in every gasp Myka exhaled.
Her own body starting to convulse in rhythm as Myka's next wave started to overcome them both. Helena gripped into curly locks as she rested on her elbow, lips parted in a silent gasp as Myka had turned her head, biting into the crook of her arm to muffle her cries.
"If you tear into the jugular, it will keep spewing," Helena remarked, tossing a cross hand at the screen of the old black and white horror movie. "The firm vein in the arm makes much more sense. It closing and beating what blood out till you finish," Helena huffed.
"You are so twisted," Claudia quipped as she popped the kernels of corn into her mouth. That night of babysitting, months ago, was spent by the two younger ones, watching TV. Helena had glanced over her book, inwardly disgusted at that foul little box.
"Never question a genius," Nate replied.
"Whatever," Claudia said as she jumped up, switching channels.
The look from Claudia caused Helena to quell her errant thoughts of tossing that damn box right out the window, her eyes dancing sideways, "What? It is much more feasible to intake blood from the arm vein so as not to kill the donor,"
"You would make the worst movie director, ever" Claudia had said as she plopped back down on the sofa next to Nate.
The quell of the room, the buzz filling her ears as strong fingers tangled in her curls, guided her mouth firmer against Helena's arm. Myka biting, then her eyes rolling back as the taste of copper filled her mouth, the feel of Helena inside her, in every way, erased all thoughts hate, of fear. A wave of serenity, of belonging, of being desired and needed filled her soul.
Helena's hips rolled as her back arched, her passion building as Myka's inner struggle gave way, her body hummed from the sudden awakening of this beauty below her, drawing Helena's life force into her.
"More," Myka pleaded as Helena pulled her away from her arm, rolling the younger woman over.
"Enough for you," Helena whispered as she pulled the younger woman on top of her body, her fingers stroking Myka's passion.
Helena was trying her best to control the animal desire to rip open the taunt arm that brushed against her head, her lips then clasping onto the nook of Myka's arm, biting, releasing the blood she so craved as Myka's hips bucked with wild abandon against her core. Her fingers digging at the base of Myka's neck as the younger woman's mouth latched on to her shoulder, her lips drinking in the wild pulsing as Myka's climax washed over them both.
Helena sucked in a harsh breath, her head shooting up at the woman's gasp, the confession of love. Black falling into green, her thumb wiping at the trickle of blood running at the corner of her lips as her hand came up, stilling all. The pad of her thumb wiping away the saline stream as she kissed Myka's cheeks.
"My, Love?" Helena whispered, never, in twenty centuries had those words ever been uttered from her lips.
"Please, Helena. More," Myka pleaded as she let unearthly strong fingers guide her head to the warm nook of the older women's arm.
…
"You sent back the clams?" Pete questioned, his head down, his eyes up as he watched Myka cross her knife and fork. The blood running from the rare steak across the white plate Myka had ordered.
"I thought I wanted them," Myka replied as she sipped her red wine.
"And you ordered your steak, rare," Pete said, his fork spearing the red meat.
"Something wrong?" he chewed.
"No, I thought I was hungry," Myka sighed, pulling a cigarette out of her satchel.
"Here," Pete quipped holding his lighter as Myka leaned in to the flame. Her eyes dancing to the nude figure of a woman swimming in the pool near the full length glass of the hotel restaurant.
"So, what the hell is wrong?" he huffed, wiping his chin, his eyes followed hers as she watched the young woman swim.
"What?" Myka respond.
"As in what the hell is wrong with you? You've been spaced out since you visited what's her name?" Pete huffed as he tossed his napkin down, them both watching as the white linen soaked the red.
"What the hell is wrong with you? I went to check on her because her husband is wasting away in some clinic, she has no one …" Myka gulping down her anger with the last of her wine.
"And what is that?" Pete asked as Myka's fingers gripped the gold chain. Pouring more wine for her as he sipped his club soda.
"It's an Unke," Myka proudly said as she held it out. "It's Egyptian, Helena … Mrs Wells gave it to me," Myka swallowed as she darted her eyes down at her lit smoke, tapping it against the ashtray.
"You just met her and she gives you a present?" he questioned.
"She is European," Myka shrugged, letting the gold fall between her breasts into the folds of her shirt. Her hand wrapping around the glass of wine as she sipped it.
Her eyes following as the two women kissed. Or so she first thought.
Her eyes then wide, hidden behind the wine glass as she looked on, both women were fully dressed, idly chatting to one another.
"What the hell?" Myka whispered to herself.
…
The night was a blur; all Myka could remember was her death grip on the toilet, pushing Pete back as he tried to comfort her. After a restless night, they both dressed quickly, Pete on the phone as he eyed Myka,"Steve and Leena are waiting for us. Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?" holding his hand over the receiver.
"I am a doctor," Myka spat out as she grabbed her coat, "Let's get this over with," she said as she stormed out of their apartment.
"See you guys soon," Pete then hanging up the phone, out of breath as he tried to catch up to Myka.
The ride to the clinic was tense, to say the least. Myka was subconsciously rubbing at her arm as she tried to will the morning Manhattan rush hour traffic to part. Not wanting to spend any more time enclosed with the man. All her thoughts were trained on the woman who haunted her every thought. Slamming the door behind, not waiting for Pete, she raced up the steps, her thighs burned for other reasons as she took the steps two at a time.
...
"She's ravenous and can't eat," Pete voice echoing as he left the room, not wanting to be there as Myka watched Steve draw her blood.
"Any new bruises?" was a whisper as she leaned in, letting Leena light her cigarette, she jumped from the sharp pain at Steve pressing on her arm to guide her to the microscope after he had put both slides in.
"What," Myka mumbled as she looked in to the microscope, watching as the two blood cells warred against each other.
"Roll up your sleeve ...Please?" Steve asked as Myka sat back.
"What is that?" Steve asked as he pressed his finger against the angry red spot on the inner part of Myka's elbow.
"Nothing, just a bite," Myka waving of the thought of how it was made, then shrugging his arm away as a flash of a smile, of black locks between her thighs, her fingers tangled, guiding them, caused her to draw a harsh toke on her cigarette.
"Okay, Steve. You said the two strains are fighting for dominance," she sighed, then turning to her assistant.
"So, who is winning?"
Myka just nodded as Steve looked at the ground.
…
"Right now my colleagues think I am at the leading blood specialist, but instead, I came here," Myka growled as she watched Helena lean against her fire place. Myka paced as she rubbed her neck, waiting for some response.
"And what have you told them?" Helena asked, her voice calm as she watched the younger woman pace around the room.
"Nothing!" Myka all but yelled.
Myka was becoming more agitated from Helena's non response and wondering how things changed so quickly in 24 hours. The pain from rubbing her arm jolted her, the anger welling up inside could no longer be contained.
"I trusted you and look what happened!" yanking her sleeve up on her rain coat.
"It's a bruise, it'll fade," Helena remarked. Her eyes darting away at the painful mark. Herself wishing she had not caused so much pain.
"I know it is a bruise, again. What have you done to me?" Myka's voice laced with fear, trying to will herself to be strong.
"I have given you something you could only dare dream of, everlasting life," Helena's voice cool in her response.
"Well, if I had known that," Myka's sarcasm filling the room, her pacing halted as she turned, the fear and panic turning to anger.
"I know it is a god damn bruise, Helena! Again, what have you done to me?" Myka's was now in full on panic as the coolness from the woman she let love her … the betrayal becoming unbearable, her hands fisting, blood drawn as her nails dug into her palms. Her mind snapping as all reason waved goodbye in her mind.
"I am tired of all your bullshit!" Myka snapping, rushing at the woman. She grabbed at her lapel, yanking the woman against her, "I am tired of all your shit, what have you done to me!"
"Enough!" Helena's cool repose vanishing, lifting the taller woman off her feet, she tossed her, as if a rag doll, across the room. Myka's body slamming into the book case. She groaned as she cleared her eyes, looking up at the woman she thought she fell in love with.
"I made a simple incision," Helena's voice cold as she rolled up her sleeve, "You drank my blood, then I, yours"
"You're crazy," Myka whispered as she steadied herself, slowly pushing herself up.
"I am bleeding your veins with mine, you belong to me, we belong to each other," Helena's voice raised, a possessiveness laced her words as she watched the younger woman run down her stairs.
"You're crazy!" Myka yelled over her shoulder as she raced down the casing.
"You will need me. When the hunger is too much, you will need to feed, and then you will need me to show you how!" Helena yelled as she watched Myka lunge for the front door.
"Your fucking crazy," Myka spat out as she slammed the door behind her.
Helena did not flinch as the door slammed shut, but instead felt the trickle; she raised a finger to the cut on her cheek. Wiping with her finger, she stared at the drop of blood on her finger. She smiled as she licked the droplet off, turning as she readied her home for Myka's return.