Still Beebo didn’t move. Her breath was hot and pure on Laura’s face when she spoke. “When I start, Laura,” she said slowly, “I’m never going to stop.” She put her hands against the wall over Laura’s head and leaned on them, her eyes boring into Laura’s, her body closing gently in on Laura’s, pressing. “Never,” she whispered. “Do it, Beebo. God! Do it!” “I’ll never stop. Never.” Her lips grazed Laura’s brow. Laura shook all over. She couldn’t talk, except to repeat Beebo’s name over and over and over, as if she were in a trance. Beebo’s hands came slowly over her hair, her face, her breasts, her waist, her hips. And then one strong arm went around her and Laura groaned. They sank to the floor, wracked with passion, kissing each other ravenously, tearing at each other’s clothes. * * * * * They never heard Nix’s indignant barking from the bathroom, or the phone when it rang a half hour later. They never felt the chill of the rainy night nor the hard discomfort of the floor where they lay. Or the phone when it rang again. And later, yet again. It was not until late morning and brilliant sunshine invaded the room that they were aware of anything but themselves. Once again it was Laura who woke up first. She was too bewildered to think straight at first, and the sight of Beebo, turning over slowly and opening her eyes, did nothing to straighten her out. Physically she felt wonderful. For a few moments she luxuriated in her body, letting her mind go blank. She rubbed her hands gently over herself and discovered a bruise on her thigh. The little ache gave her a sudden hard thrill and she remembered how Beebo made the bruise with her mouth. She had to fight hard against the need to roll over on Beebo and start loving her all over again. She touched the small bruise once more and felt the same shameless pleasure. She stretched, more for Beebo’s benefit than her own. Beebo caught her and pulled her down and rubbed her black hair against Laura’s breasts. Laura laughed and struggled with her. “Beebo, I’ve got to get up. I have to get to work.” “To hell with work. This is love.” “Don’t keep me, Beebo. This job means the world to me. I don’t want to be late.” She spoke the truth, yet she had no idea of how she was going to get up and get out. “What time do you think it is, baby?” “I don’t know.” Beebo peered over her head at the dresser clock. “Eleven-thirty,” she said. Laura gasped and tried to get off the floor, the surprise giving her impetus, but Beebo held her. “You’re going nowhere, Bo-peep,” she said. Her tone, her self-assurance, brought out the fight in Laura. “I’ve got to get there. You don’t know how far behind we are. I could lose my job. And if my father ever—” She stopped, still squirming to get up. She got as far as her knees but Beebo grasped her wrists and held her there. “I said, you’re not going anywhere, baby,” she said, and she wasn’t kidding.