honey," Dizz said. "But have you finished that article I was supposed to remind you about?"
Chris stared at her blankly for a moment, then sat bolt upright. "My God, I forgot all about it," she said. "You were supposed to remind me a week ago."
“I forgot," Dizz admitted.
They both laughed.
Chris stood up unsteadily and started toward her bedroom. "Look, kid, I've got all the material I need. Would you mind using a little of that rusty shorthand you're always bragging about?" She looked at Dizz pleadingly. "I promised to deliver the blamed thing tomorrow." She leaned wearily against the door jamb. "And, frankly, I couldn't hit a typewriter key tonight if my life depended on it."
"You mean this morning, but I get the idea," Dizz said. "Hurry up, darling. I'll get some paper."
Chris returned with a sheaf of neatly hand-written notes. She sat down on the couch.
Dizz took a seat on the floor beside Chris and leaned a notebook on her crossed knees. She looked up at Chris, waiting for her to start.
Chris took a sip of coffee, then relaxed against the couch. She began to dictate.
It was almost six when Dizz pulled the last sheet from the typewriter. Chris was stretched out on the couch, sleeping soundly. She had lasted till about five, then collapsed apologetically.
Dizz stacked the sheets neatly on the end table. She moved to the couch and smiled down at the sleeping figure.
Chris grumbled and opened her eyes when Dizz tried to lie down beside her. Then she smiled like a contented baby and opened her arms wide.
Dizz crawled in beside Chris and moved tight against her. "All finished, baby," she whispered.
"Thank you, darling," Chris whispered back. Even in her sleepy state, she felt the marvelous magic of Dizz begin to take possession of her. She buried her nose in the soft blonde hair and pressed her lips to the scalp.
Dizz stirred in her arms. She raised her mouth to Chris.
Chris held the girl close and brought her mouth down hard on the waiting lips. Their tongues met, searched. Like a whirlwind, desire grew in Chris. Her woman, lying in her arms, wanting her, wanting her, not turning away in disgust. Not stopping her eager hands.
Chris' elation knew no bounds. She had not touched Dizz like this, loved her like this, for many lonely, bitter months. She felt again the wild flow of passion she had felt that first night. Her body ached with the need to possess Dizz, to seek again the fulfillment they had never known together.
She put her lips against the soft smooth cheek.
"Dizz, darling, please," she whispered hoarsely.
"Yes, darling, yes. Love me, Chris. Love me."
For a long, long moment they were absorbed, lost in each other, oblivious of time, of the world, oblivious of everything but the moment. Then the aftermath, like the quiet after the storm. The predictable end. Dizz in the exquisite agony of frustration. Dizz staring into the darkness. And Chris alone and shivering in an exquisite agony of her own.
Lying behind Dizz, Chris put her arms around the girl's waist and bowed her head between the shoulders. Death would have been welcome at that moment.
Chris dug her teeth into her trembling lip and closed her eyes tight to hold back the tears.
CHAPTER 7
The phone rang that morning at ten.
Dizz stirred, but did not wake up.
The phone rang again and again. Finally Dizz moved an arm and pushed back the covers. She sat up and groaned. Then she reached for the phone.
Through a cottony haze Chris heard Dizz speaking to someone. She gathered the call was for her.
"Is it important, Jonathan? She's still asleep." A long pause. "All right. Hold on a minute."
Chris felt Dizz sit down on the couch beside her and tickle her ear with a fingertip. Chris swatted as though to brush away a fly.
"Chris, wake up," Dizz said sternly. "Jonathan's on the phone. I really can't figure out what he's trying to say. But he said to tell you Max is in town with something big."
"Max," Chris shouted. "Why didn't you say so?" She
Chris stared at her blankly for a moment, then sat bolt upright. "My God, I forgot all about it," she said. "You were supposed to remind me a week ago."
“I forgot," Dizz admitted.
They both laughed.
Chris stood up unsteadily and started toward her bedroom. "Look, kid, I've got all the material I need. Would you mind using a little of that rusty shorthand you're always bragging about?" She looked at Dizz pleadingly. "I promised to deliver the blamed thing tomorrow." She leaned wearily against the door jamb. "And, frankly, I couldn't hit a typewriter key tonight if my life depended on it."
"You mean this morning, but I get the idea," Dizz said. "Hurry up, darling. I'll get some paper."
Chris returned with a sheaf of neatly hand-written notes. She sat down on the couch.
Dizz took a seat on the floor beside Chris and leaned a notebook on her crossed knees. She looked up at Chris, waiting for her to start.
Chris took a sip of coffee, then relaxed against the couch. She began to dictate.
It was almost six when Dizz pulled the last sheet from the typewriter. Chris was stretched out on the couch, sleeping soundly. She had lasted till about five, then collapsed apologetically.
Dizz stacked the sheets neatly on the end table. She moved to the couch and smiled down at the sleeping figure.
Chris grumbled and opened her eyes when Dizz tried to lie down beside her. Then she smiled like a contented baby and opened her arms wide.
Dizz crawled in beside Chris and moved tight against her. "All finished, baby," she whispered.
"Thank you, darling," Chris whispered back. Even in her sleepy state, she felt the marvelous magic of Dizz begin to take possession of her. She buried her nose in the soft blonde hair and pressed her lips to the scalp.
Dizz stirred in her arms. She raised her mouth to Chris.
Chris held the girl close and brought her mouth down hard on the waiting lips. Their tongues met, searched. Like a whirlwind, desire grew in Chris. Her woman, lying in her arms, wanting her, wanting her, not turning away in disgust. Not stopping her eager hands.
Chris' elation knew no bounds. She had not touched Dizz like this, loved her like this, for many lonely, bitter months. She felt again the wild flow of passion she had felt that first night. Her body ached with the need to possess Dizz, to seek again the fulfillment they had never known together.
She put her lips against the soft smooth cheek.
"Dizz, darling, please," she whispered hoarsely.
"Yes, darling, yes. Love me, Chris. Love me."
For a long, long moment they were absorbed, lost in each other, oblivious of time, of the world, oblivious of everything but the moment. Then the aftermath, like the quiet after the storm. The predictable end. Dizz in the exquisite agony of frustration. Dizz staring into the darkness. And Chris alone and shivering in an exquisite agony of her own.
Lying behind Dizz, Chris put her arms around the girl's waist and bowed her head between the shoulders. Death would have been welcome at that moment.
Chris dug her teeth into her trembling lip and closed her eyes tight to hold back the tears.
CHAPTER 7
The phone rang that morning at ten.
Dizz stirred, but did not wake up.
The phone rang again and again. Finally Dizz moved an arm and pushed back the covers. She sat up and groaned. Then she reached for the phone.
Through a cottony haze Chris heard Dizz speaking to someone. She gathered the call was for her.
"Is it important, Jonathan? She's still asleep." A long pause. "All right. Hold on a minute."
Chris felt Dizz sit down on the couch beside her and tickle her ear with a fingertip. Chris swatted as though to brush away a fly.
"Chris, wake up," Dizz said sternly. "Jonathan's on the phone. I really can't figure out what he's trying to say. But he said to tell you Max is in town with something big."
"Max," Chris shouted. "Why didn't you say so?" She
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