A Taste Of Sin

by Fiona Zedde

  “With me, it’s always the little things.”

  “I’m starting to see that.”

  An hour and a half later the moon was a gleaming jewel just beyond the truck’s windshield. Dez was mesmerized. Not by the moon, but by Victoria, whose voice hummed low and soothing as she spoke of nothing in particular, but moved easily from subject to subject with only a few words from Dez, understanding that she was in a mood to just listen.

  “I’ve been with other so-called feminine women before and it just never worked out for me,” Victoria continued. “I’m not saying that I buy into the whole idea of butch-femme, but for me personally, there is just something about a girl with a swagger . . .” she slid her companion a glance. Dez offered a brief smile, but said nothing.

  Victoria sighed. “All right, I’ve babbled on enough. Your turn.”

  “What? I was enjoying your monologues. Go on.”

  “I don’t think so.” Victoria crossed her arms in her lap, hugging herself through the seat belt. “You show up at my doorstep with your big sad eyes and—”

  Big sad eyes? “My father is in town with his new family, and I don’t want to be there to meet them.”

  “That’s not so bad. Derrick told me your father was going to be here for the weekend. He seemed excited.”

  “Well, on top of that, my mother could be dying. I’m not handling that very well either.”

  Dez concentrated on the road in front of her, wondering why in hell she just said that. Because you need someone who you can be real with, that’s why.

  “Why did you tell me?” Victoria turned to look at her travel companion.

  “Why not?” Dez laughed. Then the ugly humor faded from her face. “I’m sorry.” She prolonged the silence for as long as she could.

  “I found out when I was in New Mexico over a month ago.” I-75 stretched out distant and dim before them. Other cars sped by, easily overtaking the Lexus’s eighty-mile-per-hour speed. “It’s not important how I found out, only that it wasn’t from her.” Dez’s voice roughened. “At first I wouldn’t believe it. I thought maybe someone was playing a trick on me.”

  A low-slung sports car zoomed passed, then merged in front of the truck without signaling. Too close. Dez tapped on the brakes, then continued speaking as if nothing had happened.

  “But it was real.” She laughed again.

  “Have you talked to anyone else about this?”

  “Of course not.” Dez’s eyes moved briefly from the road to look at Victoria. “Please don’t think I told you to get a pity fuck or something. I don’t even know why I said anything; but whatever the reason, you don’t have to respond. Don’t hold my hand, don’t tell me everything is going to be all right, none of that bullshit.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?” The it hovered like a specter in the car between them.

  “Not really.” Dez managed a quick smile. “Thanks for listening, and thanks for coming with me this weekend. Especially since we hardly know each other.”

  Victoria nodded. “Just to let you know, you did me a favor by suggesting this trip. I need this break as much as you do.”

  “Good.”

  They got to their destination a few minutes shy of midnight, eyes bleary and asses sore from sitting still for three hours. Dez pulled into the drive of her aunt’s summer house and the sensor lights caught the truck in their stripping glare.

  “This is it.”

  “Great.” Victoria hopped out of the truck. “Where’s the bathroom?”

  “Inside.” Dez tossed her the key. “The code for the alarm is 1980, then press ‘enter.’ The panel is behind the door. I’m going to the store for some groceries. Make yourself comfortable.”

  When Dez came back, Victoria was already curled up under the covers. Only her wild hair was visible above the sheets. Her bags were nowhere to be seen. She must have already unpacked and stored them somewhere.

  Dez unloaded the groceries, then checked to make sure that everything in the house was just as she left it last time. A woman came by every couple of weeks to make sure the place didn’t get overrun by rodents or any other vermin. Except for a light coating of dust, the place was spotless.

  This was hardly how her aunt kept the house. Her casual housekeeping style always pleased the child in Dez even long after she stopped being one. Bathing suits strung over the porch railing for days. Ingredients for dinner strewn over the countertops long after dinner had been made and consumed, windows left open at night to let in the breeze off the water. Still, Dez could feel her aunt here, in the safety and warmth she felt walking into the beach house. In the face of her parents’ broken marriage, the security of Aunt Paul’s love had been a priceless thing, as was her willingness to answer every question Dez asked, no matter how embarrassing or painful.

  Dez left the kitchen for the bedroom, feeling exhaustion bear down on her. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and undressed down to her tank top and boxers before crawling into the bed beside Victoria’s very warm body. Before her hormones got the chance to act up, Dez fell asleep.

  She managed to keep to her side of her bed during the night. The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Victoria’s face tucked into the curve of her own arm, delicate and vulnerable. The dawn light slowly shifted over Victoria’s hair and face, bathing her in shadowy blues that changed slowly to gray before bursting into amber and orange flames. Victoria breathed softly as the colors played over her skin. She only moved once. When Dez, in a moment of irresistible curiosity, touched her hair, the coils of red and pale and brown crackled, then, as if touched by a current of electricity, curled around Dez’s fingers, reluctant to let go. Victoria flinched in her sleep when Dez tried to pull away before being discovered. She opened her eyes.

  “Did you sleep well?” Victoria husked, blinking at Dez through her curls. “Or did you spend all night staring at me?”

  “I would have loved to spend all night staring at you, but the drive wore me out.” Her eyes lingered on Victoria’s sleep-softened face and mouth. “We can try some staring and touching games later, though.”

  “Hm. Sounds tempting.”

  “But no go, huh?”

  The other woman shook her head, but a smile dimpled her cheeks.

  “That’s fine. I can be patient.” Disappointed but not surprised, Dez sat up in the bed. “How about some breakfast?”

  “You cook?”

  “When it suits my purposes.”

  Dez left Victoria to use the bathroom. After her shower, she poked through her supplies until she found ingredients for omelets and French toast. She was portioning out their breakfast when Victoria walked in. Dez smelled her first.

  “I see you’ve had a shower,” she said without looking up.

  “Too bad.”

  “You like me smelling like raw ass, then?”

  Dez laughed. “That wasn’t exactly the smell I noticed this morning. I’ll check for that one tomorrow, though.”

  She tucked the last slice of toast on a plate and turned around. She was right to wait. Victoria’s appearance was a pleasant shock to the senses. Her hair curled loose and damp, exploding around her face very much the way the sunset had this morning. A white dress with tiny straps and a peek-a-boo lace hem that fell just below her knees added to her angelic look. Her feet were bare and the toenails brushed a light shade of pink. As always, delicious was the word that came to mind when she looked her fill of this woman. Dez’s mouth watered, ready to eat her up.

  “May I smell you?” Dez asked. Her nose twitched to get more of that bewitching scent coming from Victoria.

  She looked puzzled, but came closer. “Sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  Dez had always been a smell-oriented kind of woman. A lover could turn her on or off with a certain smell. And it was never as simple as body odor. Whenever a woman smelled good, it was hard for her to resist, especially when the scent was complex enough that she had to work to name it. Victoria wore such a scent
now. Maybe it was her body oil, or even her deodorant. Whatever it was, Dez liked it. She liked it a lot.

  “By the way, breakfast is ready.” She walked even closer to Victoria, smiling and being careful not to sniff her like a dog in heat. Her hair smelled clean, like shower steam and fresh fruit. Tangerines and honey with a hint of lime. The scent was at the back of her neck, caught in the damp curls that lay against her skin like vines. “You smell really good.” She could feel Victoria close her eyes, feel the soft body loosening, feel how easily she could turn into velvet in her arms, her pussy becoming wet and spreading open under Dez’s mouth while breakfast lay cold and forgotten on the counter. “May I touch you?”

  “No,” Victoria sighed the word, like it could very easily turn into a yes.

  “Fair enough.” She closed her eyes and took another deep lungful before backing away.

  “I—” Victoria took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to sound that way, it’s just that—”

  “You don’t have to explain.” Dez felt the surrender in Victoria’s body. If she hadn’t said no, then they would have been sliding around naked on the kitchen floor, fucking like they’d just invented the word. “Where do you want to eat?”

  Victoria sighed. “The porch is fine.”

  The temperature had fallen again, so south Florida was back to its average winter high of sixty-five degrees.

  “Go on out. I’ll bring your plate to you. Do you want anything to drink?”

  “Um . . . orange juice if you have any.”

  “Of course.”

  When Dez walked out with the plates and glasses balanced on two trays, she found Victoria sitting on the porch steps leading down to the beach. She stood up to help Dez with her burden.

  “Thanks.”

  They sat down and began their meal in silence. Victoria’s eyes widened when she took a good look at what Dez had prepared. She didn’t know that this meal of ginger-scented

  French toast with mango jam and the thick broccoli, almond, and havarti cheese omelet had once been enough to land women in Dez’s bed.

  Dez watched Victoria between bites. Despite the superb breakfast, she looked miserable. Still, Dez made no effort to break the awkward silence.

  “This is very good toast,” Victoria finally said.

  “I know. Thanks.”

  Victoria looked up sharply, only to encounter Dez’s teasing smile.

  “Can I tell you that I’m sorry again?”

  “You can, but there’s nothing to forgive. I know me. You did the right thing.”

  “No, I didn’t.” Victoria put her toast down, then picked it up again. She dipped it in the small saucer of mango jam and finished it off in two neat bites. “I don’t want to be like the others. I don’t want to fall for you, fall into your bed, then fall by the wayside on your way to the next conquest.”

  “And how do you know that’s what I’m going to do?” Victoria’s look said it all. “Derrick again, huh?” Dez took a careful sip of her water. “I’m not going to make you any promises, Victoria. You’re an incredible woman and I’m very attracted to you. We could have a good time together. But if you don’t want to do this, just let me know now.”

  “I wish this was simpler.” Victoria brushed the hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. “Derrick and I have been friends for a long time and I think if I go through with this, then our friendship is going to change permanently. It might even end. This is not something I’m willing to do lightly.” She took another triangle of toast between her fingers. “I want you, but I want to be sure.”

  Damn. Dez nodded at her brother’s best friend over the rim of her glass. Why couldn’t I have gotten infatuated with Nuria or one of those other easy, no-hassle girls? “Fair enough.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  “No. I do like you for your honesty, though. This just lets me know that I’m going to really enjoy you when you’re sure.”

  Victoria shook her head and smiled around her toast. “No comment.”

  After breakfast, they put on sandals and went for a walk. “So where are we?” Victoria asked.

  “Sarasota. A little snowbird town on the west coast.”

  “I could tell that from the highway signs. I meant the house. This piece of land.”

  “Ah. This was Aunt Paul’s home away from home. She brought me here all the time when I was growing up. I spent most of my summers with her, either in Florida or traveling to someplace new.”

  “Sounds fun.”

  “It was, mostly.”

  When nothing else was forthcoming, Victoria looked across at her.

  “What?” Dez asked.

  “Do you deliberately do this mysterious thing or is it just a bad habit?”

  Dez blinked. “What are you talking about?” “Nothing.” She laughed and shook her head.

  Their walk took them up from the house into the interconnected, bird-named streets that ran through the larger neighborhood. Between the time that Dez’s aunt had bought the house and now, the little slice of paradise had become a suburban jungle. Only the fact that she owned an acre of land on each side of the house—including the beach—stopped the suburban termites from getting close.

  “This is a cute neighborhood. It has a little bit of everything.” As they walked, houses gave way to a circle of shops and restaurants.

  Dez’s mouth curled with distaste. “Yeah, it does. A little racism here, a touch of homophobia there, with a touch of elitism for spice.”

  “I thought you liked this place.”

  “I do. But sometimes I just wish that the people would disappear.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “It can be.” Dez shook her head, dismissing the subject.

  None of that was worth talking about now “Come on.” She took Victoria’s hand. “I want to show you something.”

  It was still early, but there were already a few people about, mostly joggers and the occasional retired couple walking their matched set of French poodles or Great Danes. One jogger almost stepped in a hole while gawking at Dez and Victoria’s joined hands. They crossed the street and darted into a well-lit alley littered by flowering dandelions, black-eyed Susans, and smooth stones that were supposed to have made a pathway, but instead made walking in thin sandals difficult.

  They left the manicured sidewalks behind and ended up walking in high grass that tickled the backs of Dez’s knees and poked under the hem of Victoria’s skirt. The high grass cleared at the edge of a retention pond. It was quiet and peaceful with the sound of the ocean breeze racing through the weeds. Dez sat down and pulled Victoria down beside her.

  “This is where I played when I was a kid.”

  The pond water flashed blue with a clear reflection of the sky. Dragonflies played above its surface, dancing between the cattails and tiny mangroves. Dez took Victoria’s hands again, this time putting them against the concrete between them. Etched in the surface was Dez’s name right next to her aunt’s with their matching handprints.

  “She was a hooligan, just like you?”

  “That’s what my mother used to say.” Dez chuckled.

  “Auntie Paul could never understand how she could have such an uptight sister. Her words, not mine. It wasn’t until I was almost in high school that Mom started to loosen up and do what she wanted to. It was good to see, especially after the divorce.”

  “It’s hard to imagine your mother not being as free as she is now.”

  “That’s a good thing. Before she was so rigid and judgmental. Everything had to be just so or else.”

  Why was she telling this woman all this? Dez was sure that Derrick had told her all this and more.

  “Let’s get going,” she said. “There are much more interesting stops on this tour.”

  Back on Main, they walked past the entrance to a “white store.” Victoria peered at the glittering white dresses in the window.

  “They sell expensive white clothes and shoes to rich white people after Labor Day,
” Dez mock-whispered.

  Next to an old-fashioned ice-cream and candy stand stood a small door with opaque glass and an innocuous-looking sign that advertised the store simply as THE WOMAN’S ROOM. The windows were opaque, too, but had rich swirls of color, all muted the shades of the rainbow, decorating them. Dez opened the door and held it wide for her companion.

  “Come on in.” Her grin was absolutely wicked.

  “Good morning,” the woman at the counter chirped as they walked in. She was thin and boyish, with dark brown hair spilling down to the middle of her back in shiny waves. Her face, the same shade as honeyed chamomile tea, broke into a smile when she got a good look at who just walked into her store. She jumped from behind the counter to hug Dez. “Jeezus! It’s been how long since I’ve seen you?”

  “Too long, Trace. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing much, as you can see.”

  The store was empty except for two employees bent over open boxes, restocking the shelves. One of the girls looked up and waved at Dez as her giggling coworker looked on. Dez smiled back.

  “Trace, this is Victoria Jackson. She owns the indie women’s bookstore in Miami.”

  “I’ve heard of your place. It’s called Victorian or something like that.”

  “Victoriana,” she corrected with a smile. “Good to meet you.” The two women shook hands.

  “Victoria, meet LaTracia Delgado.” Dez grinned. “She’s the owner and proprietress of this lovely den of decadence.”

  For the first time, Victoria seemed to realize what sort of place they were in. The area where they stood could have been the hallway to any number of homes she’d been to before. But that was where the similarity ended. Off to her left and going deep into the store was a space made up to look like a sitting room, complete with a mock-up of a burning fireplace, a high-pile Persian rug, and at least a half dozen inviting, burgundy cushions on the floor. Each wall was covered by dozens of shelves that were neatly stocked with love oils, potions, toys, and even edible panties. The room beside it was made to look like a kitchen, with a sink, a bar with two stools, and more shelves. It was a cozy kitchen, one more intimate than most with its cozy blues and yellow, and the tile-work around the “appliances” decorated with yonic flowers in various stages of bloom. Instead of spices and groceries, the shelves here held self-heating lotions and oils, honey dusting powder, battery-operated cucumbers, and various other erotic delights. Next to the kitchen was the bedroom. Sumptuous shades of plum and lavender decorated the walls and four-poster bed with its gauze drapery and thick pillows. This room had even more shelves than the other two.