Dirty Deeds

by Lauren Landish

  I put my arm around her, comforting her as best I can. “You’re not. You just want them not to judge you and to please your mom. It’s totally understandable.”

  “Yeah? Then why can't I just tell them the truth then? Even now, I know if I had to tell her, I’d still lie to save face. And I don’t know why I fucking care. I’m always brushing things off and don’t take things seriously . . . but this . . . I just can't.”

  I pull her closer, sliding around so that I’m holding her from behind, just giving her comfort. “Mindy, we all lie to please others. When my parents divorced, I went with my father while Tony went with Mom.”

  “You don’t talk much about your father, really. I mean, beyond him making your life like boot camp.”

  I nod my head and bury my nose in her hair. Even after a night at the club and tinged with sweat, she smells good. “After college, majoring in business, of course, my father brought me into the family business as his right-hand man. Oh, I was being groomed for success, given a nice chunk of stock, a Vice President’s position right off the bat . . .”

  “But you gave it up. Why?”

  I nod, holding her more tightly. “Because I never wanted to be in pharmaceuticals. Steele Pharma started off generations ago doing good stuff. We developed treatments for yellow fever, for bacterial infections, all of that. When my father took over, though, that started to change.”

  “Why?” Mindy asks.

  “Because you make more money selling skin tighteners, tooth whiteners, or wrinkle removers than you do curing diseases anymore. My father shifted all the R&D into cosmetic areas, and now the only real medicines Steele makes are generics on stuff that’s a generation old or more. That’s not the sort of life I wanted to lead.”

  “So you quit?” Mindy asks.

  I shake my head. “No. Not for years. I was like you are now, living a lie and hating every minute of it. My father and I started fighting, and it got worse and worse until I had to walk away. I had to, or else I’d never be able to speak to him again. So I know what it’s like, and I’m here for you.”

  Her body trembles, and I hold her closer. She starts to cry, and I turn her to me, holding her in my lap and letting her bury her head in my shoulder. I murmur in her ear, stroking her hair and back, letting her know I’m there for her. “Mindy, if it counts for anything, I wouldn’t want to lose this week.”

  “Why?” she asks, sniffing and looking up into my eyes. I stroke her cheek with my thumb and give her a little smile.

  “Because if it hadn’t been for this week, I might never have met you.”

  Mindy cuts me off by pulling me close and kissing me, her mouth hot on mine. She’s desperate for reassurance and lost in the fantasy that’s not really a fantasy anymore. I have to have this moment too, a chance to reassure her and to show her, even if it’s just once, what she really means to me.

  We tumble to the bed, and I’m careful not to crush her underneath me, her hands tugging at my shirt to stroke my back, not with the rough urgency of our earlier passions but tenderly, searching for something we can’t put into words yet. She mewls, moaning like a kitten as I lift her top up to her armpits and explore the silky soft skin of her body. “Oliver . . .”

  I stop and look into her eyes, swallowing back the feelings that are threatening to overwhelm me. “I’ll be very careful, Princess.”

  I sit back, unbuttoning the rest of my shirt and shrugging it off, before I scoot back off the bed and unbutton my pants, her eyes drinking me in the whole time. “Mindy, I know tonight’s maybe our last chance. I want this time to be special.”

  She nods and sits up, pulling off the rest of her clothes and dropping them over the side of the bed. Mindy's smile fades as she looks at me in amazement, blinking silently until my eyes meet hers, and I swallow, pulling her to her feet. “You truly are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

  “You make me feel beautiful,” she tells me, stepping closer.

  Mindy smiles and puts her arms around my neck, mashing my cock between us as she kisses me again. She’s just short enough without her shoes on that I have to bend my head more than what's comfortable, but it’s okay, and she leads me back to the bed, stretching out beside me as we keep kissing.

  I've never felt my heart filled with such pleasure and pain as we just kiss and let our hands stroke over each other’s skin. I never touch her breasts or between her legs. Not yet. I want to explore everything else, goosebumps of pleasure breaking out on her skin as I pour myself into her. Mindy’s touch is just as electric, my brain frizzing out again and again as she finds another spot on my skin that leaves me gasping and moaning. I’ve never let myself be this vulnerable, this open before, and I know that no matter what, tonight’s going to change me forever.

  “Oliver,” she whispers in my ear, even the tickle of the warm air causing me to tremble in anticipation, “I want to taste you.”

  Mindy kisses down my body, her eyes beseeching as she looks up at me, smiling. I nod, and she reaches out with her tongue.

  I don't know how to describe what happens to me the instant her tongue touches the tip of my cock. It's like a rifle shot goes through me, my nerves all lit up at once, pleasure beyond anything I've ever thought possible. She licks softly, my body shaken by the sensations each time, and I’m awakened to new heights of ecstasy. After teasing my head with long, loving sucks, she buries my cock in her throat, bobbing up and down until I’m on the edge, and she pulls back, looking me in the eyes with deep emotion.

  Love, my mind insists on saying. Is that what this is? This feeling inside me, or is it just that I’m caught up in a fantasy that I hadn’t even planned? Am I going insane, or is Mindy looking at me with a feeling that we never expected? We were supposed to be buddies, friends with benefits as I help her out of a jam. This was never supposed to grow beyond that.

  Maybe I faze out a little, because the next thing I'm aware of is the sound of a foil packet being opened, and Mindy’s kneeling between my legs, rolling a condom down my cock. She rolls over, spreading her legs and giving me a beseeching look.

  I nod, climbing on top of her and lifting her hips, her eyes still fixed on my face as I line myself up. I push in, the feeling of her pussy again mind-blowing, and I feel something inside me as Mindy opens up doors to my heart and soul.

  It’s not her body, as perfect as it is. It's in the way she looks at me, her eyes full of meaning. I bring my hands up to caress her breasts in gentle strokes. We move slowly, wanting this instant to last forever. The world outside doesn’t exist as I bend down and kiss her and begin to thrust in and out slowly.

  Before, I’ve been aggressive, powerful, blurring the line between having sex and being greedy with her body. Part of it was the game—Mindy’s got a freaky side to her too, and we both enjoy it that way. But this isn’t the time for that. Instead, I’m gentle, trying to show her through my body the feelings that I’m too afraid to say. I see it reflected in Mindy as my fears are replaced with a warmth that builds in my chest as we kiss and look into each other's eyes. I kiss her deeply as our bodies move together, my cock rubbing over the places deep inside her with every thrust.

  “Oliver . . .” Mindy whispers before words fail her and she moans incoherently. My hips speed up to give her what she needs. She wraps her legs around my waist, giving herself fully to me as we build, faster and harder. Our hips start to slap together, and I feel myself building toward a huge orgasm, my back flexing as her fingers claw at my skin. I want to give her everything I have, everything I am, but I can’t make words either, and all I can do is make sure she’s given everything I can give her.

  My body is trembling, her pussy sending vibrations through me as we build higher and higher. Mindy’s shaking, and I squeeze her ass, on the edge myself. Suddenly, her eyes open wide, and she's there, crying out softly in a choked wail. With a final hard thrust, I come, filling the condom as I try to soothe the pain deep in my heart. She’s an angel, a fantasy, and I give all I can to
her.

  My body trembles as I hold Mindy afterward, sweat drying on my forehead as we lie looking into each other’s eyes. She’s still in so much pain, and I wish I could take it all away from her. “What is it?”

  “Oliver . . . I love you,” she whispers, cupping my cheek.

  I’m shocked, and my heart leaps in my chest. Is she for real? I want her to be, but how can we really feel this way? Finally, stuck, I tell her the truth. “Mindy, I love you too.”

  She nods and gives me a little smile. I can see the question in her eyes, the same one I have. Is she caught up in an emotional moment, or are her words the truth? I know what I feel.

  “Thank you,” she whispers and snuggles against me. Her breathing calms, and in minutes, I can feel her nod off. After she’s asleep, I give her a kiss on the forehead, still troubled.

  I was telling her the truth. Crazy as it sounds, I was.

  Was she?

  Mindy

  I can’t help but feel my pulse quicken as I hear the violins and flutes start up, the pre-ceremony music just as beautiful as I thought it would be. In fact, everything is as beautiful as I could have ever dreamed of. Everyone is dressed to perfection, all the women looking gorgeous in nice dresses and all the men in their suits or tuxedos. The flowers are perfect, the weather is perfect, everything is amazing. Even the sun and clouds are cooperating, with just enough puffy cotton balls in the sky to break up all the eye-watering blue without taking away from the impact of the sky and the ocean.

  The procession music starts, and the priest comes down the aisle, his plump, cherubic face smiling over the top of his vestments and his Bible held to his chest reverently. After him comes John, who looks dashing and proud in his tuxedo, his face beaming as he looks forward to the next thirty minutes that will change the rest of his life.

  Behind him are the flower girls, each of them looking innocent and joyful as they sprinkle white rose petals down the aisle. Their dresses fit just right, and their gold-trimmed baskets twinkle merrily as the musicians swing into the pause, building toward Mom’s big entrance.

  “This is so beautiful,” Roxy whispers next to me on my left. She’s the prettiest I’ve ever seen her, and I almost can’t believe the angel sitting next to me is my little sister. “I can hardly wait!”

  I nod, unable to form words, and I turn my head the other way to get a better view of the back of the church. As I do, I see Oliver, sitting on my right. He looks so handsome in his own tux, his bright eyes taking it all in, his jaw set, and he’s whispering something to himself as he takes it all in.

  It’s the only flaw in this perfect day. Every time I look at him today, I feel sick. I know it’s drawing to a close. After tonight, what we have will be no longer. We don’t even have much time today. It’s Mom’s day. We’ll have the reception and party that’ll last to at least one in the morning, and we’ll spend all day with the family tomorrow. Both days, we’re going to go to sleep exhausted, and then Monday morning, we board the plane to go back to the real world again.

  Who knows what’s going to happen then? I guess we could continue dating, and a part of me is hopeful we will. But there is no guarantee.

  All day, I’ve had another image running in my head though. We go back to town, and I go back to work at the Beangal’s Den. He calls a few times, and maybe stops by the shop, but as we look at each other, we just know that the fantasy was just that, and our time is over. I found myself crying in the bathroom as I took a shower this morning because the image was so strong in my head.

  Why couldn’t he see that I was serious last night when I said I love him? Was he just giving me a last little bit of fantasy? I gave him time to say more, but he didn’t. All I wanted was for him to say that he wants to see me at home, that we can make it work somehow. But he didn’t, and now . . .

  “You okay?” Roxy asks, seeing the tears forming in my eyes. “It’s a lot, I know.”

  “Yeah,” I agree quietly. “What’s taking Mom so long?”

  “I dunno. I wonder if . . .”

  “Hush, you two!” Grandma whispers. “I am not going to have this tarnished because my granddaughters can’t stop jabberjawing!”

  Roxy gives me a smirk and I can’t help but smile a little. Grandma looks like she’s about to burst because she’s so happy. The musicians swing into The Wedding March, and we all stand as the doors in the back of the church open and Mom steps in with Aunt Rita.

  “My goodness,” Roxy whispers, truly stunned, and I have to agree. Sure, we saw Mom in the dress just last night, but today, with her hair and makeup done, the lighting just right, and all the buildup . . . she’s more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her in my life.

  Aunt Rita looks proud enough to burst herself in her dress, a pale apricot color that makes her look young and beautiful. They reach the altar, where Rita passes Mom over to John and steps back to her position on the side.

  The preacher starts his speech, but to be honest, I stop paying attention. Instead, I think about Mom. She’s beaming, looking at John with her eyes lit up, the perfect bride. Despite whatever turmoil I’m feeling inside over my own life, I couldn’t be happier for her. She truly looks happy.

  After Daddy’s death, she never crumbled. Even as Roxy and I mourned, even as the insurance money ran out and the costs mounted, she was our rock. She was the one who made sure enough of Daddy’s life insurance was set aside to pay for college for Roxy and me. She was the one who worked hard raising two daughters who were, in reality, not that easy to deal with. She sacrificed a lot for us, and though we may have never actually said it, we appreciate what she did for us and never want to disappoint her.

  I was a bit worried when she met John as I saw her become what I thought was too comfortable with her new lifestyle. But over the past week, she’s reassured me. And now, I’m nothing but happy for her.

  “And now,” the minister says, turning to John, “John, do you take Mary Jo to be your wife, to love and honor, to cherish and protect, in good times and bad, as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do,” John says, sliding Mom’s ring on her finger, and my heart catches in my throat. We’re at the ultimate moment, and I can barely breathe.

  The minister turns to Mom. “And do you, Mary Jo, take John to be your husband, to have and to hold, to love and cherish through sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do,” Mom replies, sliding the ring onto John’s finger.

  “The veil, please,” the minister says, and John lifts Mom’s veil. The world doubles, then trebles for a moment before I realize that I’m crying, and I hurriedly wipe at my eyes. I have to see this clearly. “You may kiss the bride.”

  John and Mom kiss, and as they step back, I glance at Oliver. He’s beaming, and a thought runs through my head.

  If only . . . if only.

  “Let the party begin!”

  Leave it to Roxy to kick the reception off right. She bursts through the doors of the reception hall already thrusting her hands up in the air, ready to turn the reception into her own personal rave if she has to.

  I can’t help it, I’m caught up in her enthusiasm—everyone is—and pretty soon, I’m laughing and joking along with everyone else.

  “Well, hello, there!” Brad yells as he crosses the floor. Of all the guests at the wedding or the reception, he’s easily the loudest, both in the way he talks and in the way he’s dressed. Then again, anyone wearing a bright lilac suit and pink bowtie to a wedding is going to stand out. “I was hoping to see you!”

  “I think he’s talking to you,” Roxy laughs, poking Oliver, who’s just returned with some wine from the open bar. I take a sip and it’s good wine, that’s for sure. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m hot as hell right now. But I know he doesn’t have eyes for me.”

  Oliver hands me my drink, chuckling. “Hello, Brad. Enjoy the wedding?”

  Brad grabs the wine from Oliver’s hand before tossing it back, grinning. �
�Honey, I’m just looking forward to the day I get to be up there. I’m gonna be one sexy bitch!”

  “I bet you are,” I retort, laughing. “You got the lucky guy all picked out yet?”

  “Hmmm . . .” Brad says melodramatically as he looks around the room before rolling his eyes back to Oliver. “The best is already taken.”

  I blush, but Oliver handles it with a smirk and a laugh. I think he realizes Brad’s just messing with him. Or at least I hope he is.

  “Mind if I show your woman what she’s missing?” Brad asks, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, Mindy, let me show you what you’re going to be missing.”

  I hand Oliver my wine, and he gives me a smile and a toast as Brad and I head out to the floor. Mom and John aren’t here yet, so the floor is still mostly empty. I’m shocked when Look Back At Me comes on, but Grandma doesn’t look upset as Trina and Killer Mike drop some of the raunchiest twerk anthems of all time.

  “Come on, now, work it!” Brad says as he starts, and there’s no way in hell I can pass it up. I start dancing right next to him, dropping it as low as I can in my party dress.

  I pop my hips from side to side as Brad tries to keep up. By the time the four and half minutes are up, my legs are burning but I’m laughing my ass off, Brad’s antics and dancing leaving me breathless. When the song ends and the DJ takes back over, we make our way off the floor, and just in time. The DJ starts some jazzy music, and the doors open for John and Mom to make their grand entrance.

  “Well, that was good timing.” Roxy giggles as she hands me a glass. “By the way, Oliver’s eyes never left your ass the entire time you were out there.”

  I don’t really have a reply, and when Oliver sits down, I try my best to keep up with everything. But I can’t—my attention keeps getting pulled back to Oliver, and I see him giving me looks too. Is that longing I see in his eyes? But if it is, why can’t he just say this isn’t over when we leave?