Dirty Deeds

by Lauren Landish

  When she sags against the wall, spent, I pull my fingers out and run them under my nose, relishing the scent before I lick them clean. “So fucking delicious.”

  “Fucker,” Mindy half gasps, half curses me, even as a satisfied grin crosses her beautiful face. “That was totally against the rules.”

  “I told you, I don’t like rules,” I say, stepping back. Mindy doesn’t move. Her legs are still shaking from the intensity of her orgasm. I turn and start walking down the hallway before I stop and look back. “And Princess?”

  She can’t even speak, but her eyes find me.

  “Next time,” I say, giving her my best intense look, “it’s not going to be my fingers. You’re going to be coming on my cock.”

  Mindy

  I lean back against the wall, buttoning up before someone sees and trying to catch my breath. My legs are trembling from the aftershocks of the orgasm Oliver gave me, and my heart is still hammering in my chest. And the intensity of his promise as he walked away . . . I can’t help but wish he would’ve dragged me into our room and fucked me senseless.

  I suck in a trembling breath, rubbing at my throat where I can still feel the burning kisses he left on my skin. My panties are soaked. I need to change them. His eyes held sweet promise the whole time, his fingers ripping a climax from me that was otherworldly.

  This is getting out of hand. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way. I want him to take me. To possess me. And I don't care about any of my fucking rules anymore. I want him to break them all.

  “Are you okay, darling?” a soft voice says behind me.

  I nearly jump out of my skin when I look to my right to see Grandma looking at me with concern.

  What the hell? How the hell did she sneak up on me? She can barely move.

  I swallow and flash a cheery smile. “I'm fine.”

  “You sure?” She persists. “You ran away from your table like a bat out of hell. The dessert wasn't even served yet.”

  “I just needed to clean up what spilled on me. I didn’t want it to stain.”

  She's quiet for a moment, letting me squirm in my obvious lie. We can both see my shirt is unchanged. Finally, she looks at me. “Is everything all right between you and Oliver?”

  “Of course,” I say. “Why wouldn't it be?”

  Grandma waves her hand lightly. “Oh, I don't know. It just seems that you're not happy when asked about him. To me, that's a sign that there is trouble.”

  “There's nothing wrong between me and Oliver. If anything, I'm just a little high-strung about Mother getting married. After what happened to Dad, I never thought I'd see the day.” While the last part’s true, I’m just trying to deflect her curiosity. The truth is . . . there might be trouble, but not what she’s thinking. There might actually be something building between us.

  Grandma shakes her head. She loved Dad like a son. “I never thought so either, but you know people have to move on with their lives. It wouldn't have been fair if she sat there and lived in the memory of your father and never started living her life again. Look at me. I never remarried, and a part of me regrets it.”

  This is news to me, and I feel compelled to take her hand in mine. “Oh, Grandma, I had no clue that you were lonely. You always seem so strong and independent.”

  “That was just the shell that I put around myself. Every morning I wake up alone is terrible. It gets to you after a while,” she says.

  I shake my head, tears forming in my eyes. “Grandpa would’ve wanted you to be happy.”

  “You know, Mindy, for the longest time, I thought the opposite. But then I realized that I was projecting my fears onto my deceased husband. I felt guilty because of my own feelings. By the time I realized my truth, it was too late. Now I would be happy and just settle for a great-grandbaby.”

  Damn, that again. Why, oh, why am I to be saddled with these expectations? It’s not fair to Grandma, but it’s also not fair to me, and it makes me feel even more like a liar.

  I do a nervous chuckle, trying to buy for time. “Well, maybe we’ll surprise you.”

  It makes me sick to my stomach saying it, but I don’t know what to say. “Babies do tend to sort of just . . . well, happen.”

  “Well, as much as I would love that,” Grandma says, “I wouldn’t dare ask you to do it to make me happy. If it happens, it happens. The most important thing is to live your truth. Because when you do that, the universe will make all the things you want happen.”

  Live your truth. When I’m living a damn lie. I can't believe I allowed myself to get into this! What was I thinking? I’m too used to joking about things and brushing things aside. I didn’t stop to consider the feelings of others who would be caught up in my web of deceit because I didn’t think it was that serious.

  It’s hard, but I manage to plaster a grateful look on my face. “Thank you so much for your words of wisdom, Grandma. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” I pull her into an embrace, holding her frail body tight. “What can I do to ever show you how much you mean to me?”

  “How about visiting me more often? You don’t want to wait around. The next time you see me, they might be carrying me out in a cardboard box.”

  “Oh, stop it. I’ll do better. I promise.”

  “That’s what I want to hear,” Grandma says. Standing on her tiptoes, she gives me a kiss. “Now come back out here and get your dessert. The others will be wondering where you went.”

  “Okay, I will,” I tell her, turning toward my room. “After I go to the bathroom to tinkle.”

  She nods at me and totters off. I sigh in relief as soon as she’s gone. This is turning out to be harder than I imagined. I thought it would be easy to come back, crack jokes, and hide behind all the bluster. Oliver isn’t making it easy by being so irresistible.

  Just a few days, I tell myself. This will all be over. I’ll tell them Oliver and I are done. And this will just be one bad memory.

  I go to the bathroom and clean up, changing my panties. He’s so going to pay for that.

  Back outside, there’s a commotion going on. Grandma is waving her arms, yelling at Mom, while Bertha is going off like she’s on crack, and it takes a moment for me to figure out what’s happening.

  “I told you about keeping this dog on a leash!” Grandma is snapping, pointing at Bertha, who is circling her and barking at her like she’s intruder. I look, and my breath catches in my throat as I see that Grandma’s slacks have been ripped, although I don’t see any blood. “That heffa doesn’t like me!”

  “I got it,” Oliver says, rising to his feet and letting out a piercing whistle. Bertha stops in her tracks, sitting on her haunches. Slowly, Oliver approaches her. When he gets close, he bends down and picks her up with ease.

  “There, there, girl,” he says, stroking her gently. “Time to put you in time out.”

  “Wow,” Roxy says, shocked by how easy Oliver handled the problem. “You’re a dog whisperer too?”

  “Glad someone could tame that little heathen,” Grandma mutters, retaking her seat. “If I’d known Mary Jo was going to let that ball of fur run wild, I would have brought my cat, Giselda, to put her in her place.”

  I ignore Grandma for the most part, my heart fluttering as I watch Oliver hold and stroke Bertha. I don’t even know why. I’m okay with pets, but the way he’s holding the dog in his arms, almost like it’s a baby, is doing weird things to my ovaries.

  I walk over and sit back down at the table. Oliver follows me over, still holding Bertha.

  “That was something else,” I say to him as he sits down in his seat. The dog looks like it’s silly putty in his hands, nuzzled against his chest. It’s hard to act like nothing happened after he just finger-banged me in the hallway, but I have to pretend like nothing did, both because it’s my family and because I need to maintain my sanity.

  “I have a way with dogs,” Oliver says with a smile, looking up at me. His eyes seem to say to me, and with women.

  A flush comes to my ch
eeks and I look away. I can still feel his fingers inside me, and I want more. So much more.

  Oliver gives me a questioning look. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I lie through my teeth, giving him a sickly, weak grin. “I just . . . I could use a little bit of that Panna cotta.”

  “Here,” Oliver says, taking a bite of his before sliding it over to me. “Take mine. I think Roxy has devoured the rest.”

  “Thank you,” I say automatically. Oh, God, I’m thanking him now?

  The Italian custard is delicious, and as I eat, I watch Oliver. I’m afraid. I came into this week thinking this would all be easy. That Mom would be so much the center of attention that I wouldn’t have to keep building lies on top of lies. And if I got lucky, maybe even get a little play cock.

  Now, my defenses are crumbling, and I’m constantly thinking about babies and the idea of Oliver’s thick, juicy . . .

  I’m hanging on by my fingernails at the edge of a bottomless pit, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up.

  Oliver

  “A blob!” Roxy guesses excitedly as Layla spreads her arms out, wiggling them around before making big circles with her hands. I have no idea how Roxy’s getting blob out of it, but then again, I have no damn clue what Layla’s trying to say either.

  We’re sitting in the living room playing Charades after dinner. It was nice, too. There was no gaming between us, just a good time. Mindy seemed to enjoy herself. She smiled, and as we talked, I felt myself being drawn to her more and more.

  Not that I’m going soft. I can't stop thinking about the feel of her tight, slick pussy on my fingers or the way her teeth bit into my skin when she came. Now, playing Charades and having her next to me, I’m . . . torn. Good guy, bad guy, or just be the guy for Mindy? I can’t decide anymore, except that I fucking want her.

  “Fat ass!” Roxy yells, pulling me back to the game. “Mindy has a fat ass!”

  Layla drops her act, throwing her hands in the air. “I meant to say Mindy has a big brain. That she’s smart!”

  “You’re horrible!” Mindy says with a huge laugh. “You couldn’t wait to do that. I’ve seen you trying to get it in for three rounds now.”

  Roxy laughs. “You know I was just playing. If anything, you could gain some back there.”

  “I don’t mind Mindy’s curves myself,” I say, rubbing her thigh. “They’re in all the right places.”

  Mindy blushes, but before the next round can start, my phone rings. I pull it out to see that it’s from Gavin. Showing Mindy the caller ID, I excuse myself and go outside to the patio, where it’s another picture perfect night. “Gavin, what’s up?”

  “Hey, Oliver, I was just calling to see how things are going,” Gavin says with a chuckle. “Brianna and I haven’t heard from you two. We got worried.”

  “It’s going pretty good, actually,” I say, leaning against a wrought iron fence and chuckling. “We’re playing Charades, believe it or not.”

  “Really? Doesn’t sound like your style,” Gavin says. “Any sparks between you and Mindy? At each other’s throats?”

  I chuckle. Oh, there’s been sparks all right. “Nah, we’re good. I’m not going to lie, there were a few hiccups at the start, but everything’s going well now.”

  “I'm glad to hear that.” There's relief in Gavin's voice, and I know he cares about Mindy beyond her being his wife’s best friend. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure if you could pull it off. Have you checked in on your brother yet?”

  “I need to call him after this, actually. I’ve been meaning to. Do you know if my house is still in one piece?”

  “From what I can tell. At least nobody’s called the cops yet.”

  I shake my head. Hopefully, Gavin’s joking. “Well, I’d better take care of that then. Mindy’s mom is all about family time, so I won’t have a lot of time. Take care, man.”

  “You too. And be good to her, okay?”

  “You know it,” I say, hanging up the call. I tap my phone against my chin for a moment, then dial Anthony’s cell. It’s a good sign when he picks up on the second ring. “Hey, Tony?”

  “Oli, I’m dyin’ here,” Anthony says. “She’s kicking my ass.”

  I chuckle. “If she could kick your ass, I wouldn’t be worried. You doing okay?”

  “Let’s see,” Anthony says under his breath. “I’m doing laundry, cleaned the whole house top to bottom, and so far, the closest thing I’ve had to getting laid was some late night downloaded porn. How do you think I’m doing?”

  “Sounds just fine to me,” I crack, and Anthony laughs. “Seriously, though, Mom’s doing okay?”

  “Yeah, we’re doing fine,” Anthony says. Suddenly, music comes on in the background, and Anthony scrambles. “Sorry, I had my game on pause. The network just put me back in.”

  “What else have you been up to in your free time?” I ask, not really caring about his game.

  “Nothing, just chilling and doing my best to take care of Mom, that’s all. She’s saying I should go out Friday night, so maybe I’ll bounce then. Hey, speaking of that, you bang that chick yet?”

  I ignore his question, and Anthony gets the message. He changes subjects. “Hey, Martha wants me to go with her to look at some property that you said you want to look at.”

  “I think she can do that fine by herself,” I reply. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Well, she's insisting. Don't you trust me? I looked at a lot of property for Dad.”

  I sigh, nodding as I reply. “Okay. Go on, but no shenanigans.”

  Anthony laughs. “Dude, I can be serious when I need to be. You gotta have faith in me.”

  He’s right, and Anthony needs something to do besides porn, video games, and helping Mom around the house. “That's what scares me. All right, man, you take a look and tell me about it when I get back. Take care of Mom.”

  I hang up from him and go back inside, where I find that the game’s wrapped up and everyone’s gone to bed except Mindy, Layla, and Roxy. Layla’s got a drink, while Roxy is leaning back, her legs kicked over the arm of her chair, laughing at something. “What’d I miss?”

  “Roxy sent everyone to bed with her silliness. She answered John’s attempt at ‘John Wayne’ with ‘my sister likes anal’.” Mindy rolls her eyes. “You’re worse than me, you know that? You have no filter,” she says, looking at Roxy.

  Roxy throws her hands up. “Yeah, well, we all suck at that game. Someone had to bring the fun.”

  Mindy shakes her head, yawning. “Well, I’m a little tired too. I think I’m going to bed with my future husband.”

  The way she says those words makes my heart pound in my chest. Her future husband. Does that mean she’s going to perform her wifely duties? My cock twitches in my pants and excitement courses through my veins. Her future husband. Damn.

  I get up off the sofa and help Mindy to her feet. Her hand stays in mine, and I swear her fingers squeeze mine even after we get up. I barely pay attention until my calf bumps the coffee table, and I turn to see Roxy grinning. “Good night, ladies,” I tell them.

  Roxy’s grin widens. “Goodnight, lovebirds.”

  We walk upstairs to our room, and I’m feeling blood rush through me every step of the way. This isn’t teasing like before, and it certainly isn’t the aggressiveness that I gave her earlier. Mindy’s fingers are entwined in mine the whole way, and her demeanor seems different.

  She’s ready.

  “What’s up?” I ask softly to make sure nobody overhears us. “Charades bore you to death?”

  “No,” Mindy says, giving me a deep, longing look. “But after earlier, we both know things are different. And I’d rather do it this way than someone walking in on us.”

  I lean in close, and Mindy pauses for only a second before putting her hand on my neck and pulling me in for a kiss. Our first kiss was nearly forced, and the second was in front of her family. Earlier, I kissed her neck and she was passionate, but it was just sex.


  This is smoldering. Her tongue slides over mine, and I taste her mouth. I feel her press her body against mine as her hand pulls me in deeper, and we’re both promising the other things with our lips that words can’t even begin to explain. She moans softly into my mouth and I groan back, my cock throbbing in my pants as she cups me, and we pull back. She turns and starts up the stairs, her voice shaky. “How’s that?”

  “Not bad,” I grin, letting her know it was amazing. I take her hand again. “So what did you think of today?”

  “It was an interesting day,” she says as we reach the door to our bedroom. “I loved how you handled Bertha. That was sweet.”

  We go inside, and I close the door, pushing Mindy against it, not pinning her but just keeping her there by the force of my eyes alone. “What else did you love?”

  Her lower lip trembles as she looks at me. We both know what we want, and while it feels dangerous, I don’t care. I need her, and the rush I get from having her this close is bigger than anything else I’ve felt in my entire life.

  I place my hands on her waist, tugging her away from the door and close to me, pressing her body against me and looking into her beautiful eyes. “You haven’t answered me yet.”

  Mindy doesn’t answer. Instead, she puts her arms around my neck and I know I have her. She’s mine. The girl who has excited me since the first time I saw her picture is totally mine.

  I lean in for the kill, intent on working her body from this side of the moon to Sunday, when there's a knock at the door.

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  Mindy

  I pull away from Oliver with a gasp, my skin prickling with desire. I want him so fucking badly I can practically taste it.

  I shiver. Ever since dinner started, I felt like I was just going along, doing what came naturally, waiting for this moment. From the moment I stood up and took his hand, it was like my mind was on cruise control.

  But can I control what comes after?