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Authors: Gordon Merrick
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but that wasn’t my fault.”
“Do you live with your parents?”
“What difference does that make? It happens to be more convenient for me. They’re not there all the time. It’s the same as having my own place.”
“Sure, without the bother of having to work for your living. Then you’ll marry a rich guy and stop even pretending to be an actress. Why should I waste my time with you?”
Harsh laughter broke from her. “Oh, good–at least you don’t take me lying down. I told you I wanted you to be exciting. I’m beginning to think you might manage it. Your eyes help. In this light, you’re Pan. Is he the one with the tail? I hope not.”
“I never can keep those people straight. Dionysus is the one I’d like to be. He got the theater going. He didn’t have a tail.”
“Fancy a dentist’s son wanting to be god of the theater. That’s truly exciting.”
“Really? You don’t think it’s silly?”
“I think anybody who doesn’t want to be a god is silly.”
“That sounds like Washburn talk.”
“What do you know about it? I hate the Washburns.”
She said it with such passion that he was startled and thrilled by her. She had somehow entered into an alliance with him. Attractive was too weak a word for her. She was magnificent. He couldn’t imagine her letting herself be seduced, but he definitely wanted to try. He thought of Debby, pleading for love. He couldn’t see Clara playing that scene. He could imagine her taking him if it struck her fancy and promptly dismissing him. He chuckled. “We’ll have to have a referee if we see a lot of each other,” he said.
They walked a few more minutes until dunes and a glimpse of the darkening sea appeared before them. The sun had already set behind them. There was a big house at the end of the street, and behind it a two-floor garage with outdoor stairs leading to the upper floor.
“Do you want a drink?” she asked. “You do drink, don’t you?”
“Sure, but I don’t have time now. I’ve got to get back. Let me see where you live, and then I’ll run.”
She preceded him up the outside stairs, her narrow shoulders carried proudly. They were about to be alone and in private together. It was a step in the right direction. She ushered him into a living room with big windows overlooking the ocean, furnished casually with outdoor things.
“My palatial abode,” she announced. “I have some whisky. Do you want some?”
“I shouldn’t take the time.” He looked into her eyes and found no hint of the response he had learned to detect. He had to kiss her if only to prove that he wasn’t a child. He stepped to her and put his arms around her and touched her closed determined mouth with his tongue. She didn’t pull away but did nothing to encourage him. She was so tall and felt so slim and flat in his arms that it was like holding a boy. He had never held a more unresponsive body, but she was flesh and blood, and she excited him. He tightened his embrace and kissed an eye in a way he had found usually produced some reaction, but in this case it failed. He drew back.
She looked at him squarely. “Why do you keep your arms around me? You don’t want to neck, do you? I think kissing is absolutely hopeless. It either means nothing, or it should lead to a great deal more. Of course, you’re a raving beauty, so you’re probably used to everybody falling for you. It’ll take more than a stroll in the gloaming to make me fall for you.” Her laughter mocked herself.
He released her and moved away, still unexpectedly tingling with the feel of her. He wasn’t upset or embarrassed by her indifference. Girls liked to play hard to get. The sexual note had been struck, and she had become more than a Washburn. She was a desirable girl. He turned back to her. “I agree with you about kissing. I don’t kiss a girl unless I want a great deal more. I guess we’ve got that point clear.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. You’re really very sweet in
“Do you live with your parents?”
“What difference does that make? It happens to be more convenient for me. They’re not there all the time. It’s the same as having my own place.”
“Sure, without the bother of having to work for your living. Then you’ll marry a rich guy and stop even pretending to be an actress. Why should I waste my time with you?”
Harsh laughter broke from her. “Oh, good–at least you don’t take me lying down. I told you I wanted you to be exciting. I’m beginning to think you might manage it. Your eyes help. In this light, you’re Pan. Is he the one with the tail? I hope not.”
“I never can keep those people straight. Dionysus is the one I’d like to be. He got the theater going. He didn’t have a tail.”
“Fancy a dentist’s son wanting to be god of the theater. That’s truly exciting.”
“Really? You don’t think it’s silly?”
“I think anybody who doesn’t want to be a god is silly.”
“That sounds like Washburn talk.”
“What do you know about it? I hate the Washburns.”
She said it with such passion that he was startled and thrilled by her. She had somehow entered into an alliance with him. Attractive was too weak a word for her. She was magnificent. He couldn’t imagine her letting herself be seduced, but he definitely wanted to try. He thought of Debby, pleading for love. He couldn’t see Clara playing that scene. He could imagine her taking him if it struck her fancy and promptly dismissing him. He chuckled. “We’ll have to have a referee if we see a lot of each other,” he said.
They walked a few more minutes until dunes and a glimpse of the darkening sea appeared before them. The sun had already set behind them. There was a big house at the end of the street, and behind it a two-floor garage with outdoor stairs leading to the upper floor.
“Do you want a drink?” she asked. “You do drink, don’t you?”
“Sure, but I don’t have time now. I’ve got to get back. Let me see where you live, and then I’ll run.”
She preceded him up the outside stairs, her narrow shoulders carried proudly. They were about to be alone and in private together. It was a step in the right direction. She ushered him into a living room with big windows overlooking the ocean, furnished casually with outdoor things.
“My palatial abode,” she announced. “I have some whisky. Do you want some?”
“I shouldn’t take the time.” He looked into her eyes and found no hint of the response he had learned to detect. He had to kiss her if only to prove that he wasn’t a child. He stepped to her and put his arms around her and touched her closed determined mouth with his tongue. She didn’t pull away but did nothing to encourage him. She was so tall and felt so slim and flat in his arms that it was like holding a boy. He had never held a more unresponsive body, but she was flesh and blood, and she excited him. He tightened his embrace and kissed an eye in a way he had found usually produced some reaction, but in this case it failed. He drew back.
She looked at him squarely. “Why do you keep your arms around me? You don’t want to neck, do you? I think kissing is absolutely hopeless. It either means nothing, or it should lead to a great deal more. Of course, you’re a raving beauty, so you’re probably used to everybody falling for you. It’ll take more than a stroll in the gloaming to make me fall for you.” Her laughter mocked herself.
He released her and moved away, still unexpectedly tingling with the feel of her. He wasn’t upset or embarrassed by her indifference. Girls liked to play hard to get. The sexual note had been struck, and she had become more than a Washburn. She was a desirable girl. He turned back to her. “I agree with you about kissing. I don’t kiss a girl unless I want a great deal more. I guess we’ve got that point clear.”
“I’ll keep it in mind. You’re really very sweet in
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