Read Online Beebo Brinker Chronicles 3 - Women In The Shadows by Ann Bannon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ann Bannon
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beautiful...” Laura fumbled.
"Does beauty frighten you?"
"Yes. I don't know why. Maybe because I never had it."
Tris chuckled, a sweet throaty sound, and said, “Who ever told you that?” And it occurred to Laura, strangely, that Tris spoke without any accent at all. It sounded clear and plain, like Laura's own English. But it was only a quick impression and it passed. She thought Tris was teasing her, imitating her.
"Don't kid me,” she said.
"Take your hair down, Laura,” Tris said, her fingers playing with the prim bun at the back of Laura's head. Her hair had grown so long—Beebo wouldn't let her cut it—that she was obliged to roll it up one way or another in the back. It hung nearly to her waist when it was loose. She took the pins out of it now, raising herself on one elbow to accomplish the job. Tris helped her and the roll of hair came free suddenly and fell around Laura's shoulders like silk streamers, pale gold and scented. Tris took a handful of it, pressing it to her face.
"How lovely!” she exclaimed. “Lovely blond hair ."
She put her hands on Laura's shoulders and pushed her down into the pillows, bending over her to study her face. “I think you're very pretty,” she said, and made Laura smile.
"I don't believe you,” she said.
"I'll bet Beebo thinks you're very pretty, too."
"Please, Tris. Let's not talk about Beebo."
Tris leaned down and kissed her forehead very softly. “Now do you believe me?” she asked.
Laura stared at her, her heart suddenly pounding. “No,” she said in a whisper.
Tris kissed her cheeks, so lightly that Laura could hardly feel it “Now?” she said. “No,” Laura breathed.
And Tris kissed her lips. Laura lay beneath her, too thrilled to move, only letting the lovely shock flow through her body and closing her eyes to feel it better. At last Tris moved away—only a breath away—and she said, “Now?"
"Tris...” she murmured and all the melody of suppressed passion sang in the name. Her hands went up to Tris's bare arms, over the bandeau and down that silky midriff, and then they went around Tris's waist and pulled her close and kissed her.
It was a long kiss, so leisurely, so lovely, that Laura never wanted it to end. And when it did she followed Tris, laughing, all over the bed, kissing her wherever she could reach her, feeling Tris's fine body move beneath her hands and the fire of her own longing bursting in her bosom.
Suddenly Tris got off the bed and stood looking at Laura and trying to catch her breath. “No,” she said. “No! That's enough! It's late."
Laura stared at her, amazed. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Tris, come here. Come to me. Don't do this to me. Tris!"
But Tris pulled her off the bed with sudden strength. “Tris, it's only nine-thirty,” Laura said. “Nine-thirty? Is it that late? Laura, you must excuse me.” She was transformed. All the play and warmth had gone out of her.
"But—” Laura began, but Tris interrupted sharply, ‘Time for you to go home to Beebo.” There was no smile on her face. Laura looked at her incredulously a minute longer, her cheeks burning, and then she smoothed her clothes out with lowered eyes. She was too proud and too hurt to speak. She walked noiselessly to one of the mirrors, taking her purse with her, and ran a comb through her long hair.
She stared at herself—her flushed face and trembling fingers, her body so ready for love only moments ago and now weak with denial and outraged nerves. Two feet of unpinned hair hung down her back to remind her of Tris's admiration. But it would take five minutes to get it up again properly.
Laura looked into the mirror over her own shoulder at Tris, who was standing on one foot and then the other, bent forward slightly and obviously waiting for Laura to get out of her way. What secret activities would occupy her as soon as she got rid of Laura? Her impatience was audible in her sharp breathing. Laura dared not risk her displeasure by
"Does beauty frighten you?"
"Yes. I don't know why. Maybe because I never had it."
Tris chuckled, a sweet throaty sound, and said, “Who ever told you that?” And it occurred to Laura, strangely, that Tris spoke without any accent at all. It sounded clear and plain, like Laura's own English. But it was only a quick impression and it passed. She thought Tris was teasing her, imitating her.
"Don't kid me,” she said.
"Take your hair down, Laura,” Tris said, her fingers playing with the prim bun at the back of Laura's head. Her hair had grown so long—Beebo wouldn't let her cut it—that she was obliged to roll it up one way or another in the back. It hung nearly to her waist when it was loose. She took the pins out of it now, raising herself on one elbow to accomplish the job. Tris helped her and the roll of hair came free suddenly and fell around Laura's shoulders like silk streamers, pale gold and scented. Tris took a handful of it, pressing it to her face.
"How lovely!” she exclaimed. “Lovely blond hair ."
She put her hands on Laura's shoulders and pushed her down into the pillows, bending over her to study her face. “I think you're very pretty,” she said, and made Laura smile.
"I don't believe you,” she said.
"I'll bet Beebo thinks you're very pretty, too."
"Please, Tris. Let's not talk about Beebo."
Tris leaned down and kissed her forehead very softly. “Now do you believe me?” she asked.
Laura stared at her, her heart suddenly pounding. “No,” she said in a whisper.
Tris kissed her cheeks, so lightly that Laura could hardly feel it “Now?” she said. “No,” Laura breathed.
And Tris kissed her lips. Laura lay beneath her, too thrilled to move, only letting the lovely shock flow through her body and closing her eyes to feel it better. At last Tris moved away—only a breath away—and she said, “Now?"
"Tris...” she murmured and all the melody of suppressed passion sang in the name. Her hands went up to Tris's bare arms, over the bandeau and down that silky midriff, and then they went around Tris's waist and pulled her close and kissed her.
It was a long kiss, so leisurely, so lovely, that Laura never wanted it to end. And when it did she followed Tris, laughing, all over the bed, kissing her wherever she could reach her, feeling Tris's fine body move beneath her hands and the fire of her own longing bursting in her bosom.
Suddenly Tris got off the bed and stood looking at Laura and trying to catch her breath. “No,” she said. “No! That's enough! It's late."
Laura stared at her, amazed. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Tris, come here. Come to me. Don't do this to me. Tris!"
But Tris pulled her off the bed with sudden strength. “Tris, it's only nine-thirty,” Laura said. “Nine-thirty? Is it that late? Laura, you must excuse me.” She was transformed. All the play and warmth had gone out of her.
"But—” Laura began, but Tris interrupted sharply, ‘Time for you to go home to Beebo.” There was no smile on her face. Laura looked at her incredulously a minute longer, her cheeks burning, and then she smoothed her clothes out with lowered eyes. She was too proud and too hurt to speak. She walked noiselessly to one of the mirrors, taking her purse with her, and ran a comb through her long hair.
She stared at herself—her flushed face and trembling fingers, her body so ready for love only moments ago and now weak with denial and outraged nerves. Two feet of unpinned hair hung down her back to remind her of Tris's admiration. But it would take five minutes to get it up again properly.
Laura looked into the mirror over her own shoulder at Tris, who was standing on one foot and then the other, bent forward slightly and obviously waiting for Laura to get out of her way. What secret activities would occupy her as soon as she got rid of Laura? Her impatience was audible in her sharp breathing. Laura dared not risk her displeasure by
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