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though I didn't want to stop. I almost wished he would

ignore me, but he was too sweet and loving not to

listen. He held me tightly, waiting for his own

breathing to calm.

"My heart's pounding like some

sledgehammer," he said. "I'm afraid they'll come

home and walk in on us. Barry.'

"No, you're right," he said. "Of course." "I don't want you to be upset," I said and kissed

him. He kissed me back.

"When you go beyond a certain point, it's like

trying to stop a car on ice," he muttered. He kissed my

breasts again and held me just as tightly. "It's hard to

just stop," he said, not moving away. "Maybe if we do

it slowly, like easing out of quicksand."

"You think I'm quicksand?"

"I wouldn't mind if you were pulling me down

and into you. Rose." he said.

I smiled and kissed him. He moved down, his

lips traveling over my breasts again to my stomach

and to my skirt, which was still undone. I pressed my hands against his ears and felt myself being pulled

along as he went further and further until I gasped. "Please," I said with barely a breath. "All right. I'm sorry. I want you so much," he

said.

We lay next to each other, waiting for our blood

to settle, like water that had reached its boiling point.

All we could hear was the sound of our own deep

breathing. Then, I heard something in the hallway and

moved quickly to get my bra back on and my blouse. "Are they here?" he asked nervously. He

reached over to turn the lamp on.

We both listened. Except for the very low

murmur of the television, it was silent again. I rose