A Taste Of Sin

by Fiona Zedde

  “Thank you.” Claudia’s mouth tightened. “But God willing, I won’t be needing anyone’s help with that for a long time, if ever.”

  He talked about his old wife with his new one. Yet hadn’t said a word to Derrick or Claudia about these twins—only that he had new children now and he was well and truly settled in California. Bastard. Claudia must be aching.

  Dez’s phone rang. She fumbled in her pocket for it, answering without checking the caller ID. Whoever it was, she would talk to them. It had to be better than this farce playing out in front of her.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes. Let’s do it.”

  “What?”

  “If that’s all you have to offer, I’ll take it. The ride could be fun.”

  Victoria. A puff of breath, thick with relief and anticipation, left her mouth. Dez made brief excuses to her family as she turned around and left the room. “All right. Can I come over tonight? I’ll bring a copy of my STD test results.”

  Victoria laughed. “No. It’s not going to work that way. How about dinner? Maybe some dancing. A little wooing first. I know it’s just fucking, but let’s not dispense with the foreplay.”

  Dez laughed at herself. “You’re right. Um . . . tomorrow after you close up. I’ll meet you. We can go out after.”

  “Okay. See you at the store.” Her giggle flirted with Dez through the phone. “We can trade test results then.”

  She took a deep breath before going back inside. The Nichols, old and new, were getting along splendidly. No one seemed to even notice that she had stepped out of the room. Susha and Claudia sat closely together on the couch talking like old school chums while Derrick and their father stood at the bar refreshing their manly drinks and talking shop. Lovely. Dez picked up her glass of scotch and walked to the window.

  Beyond the blue-tinted glass, city lights beckoned. They made her long to be outside, away from this generic hotel suite and the fake smiles and awkward silences. Was she the only one who wondered why they were all here in the first place? What was Susha thinking here in this hotel room faced with her husband’s old family? Did she have doubts about Warrick? Did she wonder if he would leave her, the mother of his new set of twins, for someone with a firmer belly and more looks than sense? Dez would never do that to anyone. Despite what her mother said, that was one thing that Dez did not share with her father: If she made a promise, she didn’t turn around and take it back later on. She avoided that trap by never making any at all.

  She deliberately shook off her grim thoughts and turned her attention back to the conversation going on in the room. Claudia said something about Susha’s children, connecting them to Dez and Derrick in a deliberate and cheerful way. It literally made Dez ill to see her mother be nice to this . . . man.

  “Desiree, darling.”

  She looked at her mother.

  “Susha was just wondering where the best places are to go couture shopping in the city. What do you suggest?”

  “That depends. Is Warrick paying?” She shoved herself off the wall and went to join her family.

  After too many hours of small talk and strong drinks, Warrick’s old family left him to it at the hotel. Under her children’s watchful eyes, Claudia called some of her friends to meet her at a cocktail party nearby. She said that she needed something cheerful after the dismal gathering she’d just left. Dez saw her off with a frown.

  “I hope she’s all right.”

  Her brother wasn’t worried. “Mama will be fine. She’s a lot stronger than either of us gives her credit for.”

  Dez made an uncertain noise.

  “Come out for a real drink with me. I need to wash the taste of all that bullshit off my tongue.”

  She looked at him in surprise. Did Derrick just offer to spend more time in her presence? Willingly? “Sure.”

  They went to a bar nearby, a straight one, of course, that had enough eye candy to keep Dez entertained. Cigarette smoke curled in the air around them, snaking into their clothes and hair. At their quiet table, Dez sipped her rum and Coke and watched the parade of scantily clad women with surprisingly little interest. Her mind strayed to Victoria, lingered on the memory of her mouth, her lush breasts. No one in the bar seemed nearly as fuckable. Ah well. She turned to her brother. Derrick moved his tumbler of scotch around on the table.

  Dez suddenly realized that she could count the facts she knew about the adult Derrick on one hand: He could have damn near any woman he wanted. Claudia trusted him and, as if that wasn’t enough, he was brilliant. Fresh out of law school and having aced the Florida bar exam, he got hired by one of the top firms in Miami and was already their golden black boy. If she cared enough, Dez could have been jealous. But there was only one thing she cared about now.

  “Your daddy is a serious piece of work, isn’t he?”

  “Tell me about it. He’s changed.” Derrick chuckled, but it was without any real humor. “I used to want to be like him in the worst way.” No shit, Mr. Lawyerman with the penthouse suite and thousand-dollar suits. “But tonight when he flaunted his new life in front of us, his new twins, his gorgeous new wife with the Berkeley education and the foreign accent, I wanted to kill him. I’ve never seen Mama look so hurt.”

  “Where the fuck were you when he dicked us over the first time? Did you forget the divorce? Him leaving us?”

  “Shit, Dez, we were just kids. Besides, even then I knew that things happen between a married couple that aren’t necessarily any one person’s fault.”

  She wouldn’t know about any such complications between couples. Dez couldn’t rightly remember ever being part of one. The thing with Ruben didn’t count.

  “Shit.” He sighed. “The reason I asked you out today was to talk. Seriously. I was watching you tonight. Watching us, how we all were with one another. Like it or not, all we have is each other. We can’t afford to be at odds.”

  “I didn’t start this, little brother. At least I don’t think I did. I’ll be damned if I even know what happened to make things so bad between us.”

  “Puberty.”

  “Probably.” In the two years she’d been gone, Dez had almost forgotten about the animosity between her and Derrick. She’d certainly forgotten the cause. He was her brother. Warrick preferred him to her. She’d lost a girl or two to him growing up, just as he had to her. All these things were nothing. They were adults now. Or so she thought until he attacked her on the afternoon they picked Claudia up from the McAllisters’.

  She cleared her throat. “So, how’s Trish?” That seemed a safe enough topic.

  “Still fuckable, so you can’t have her.” Derrick smiled weakly.

  “Then what are you doing with her?”

  “Very funny.”

  “I thought so.” Dez signaled the roving waitress for a refill.

  Once the woman had come and gone, leaving a nicely topped-off glass of Appleton Estate and Pepsi, it was Derrick’s turn to clear his throat.

  “I’m sorry about the shit I said to you the other day.” He looked at his sister with dark eyes. “Mama always liked you best,” he said. “And I didn’t think you loved and cared for her the way that she obviously loved and cared for you.” He played with the condensation on his glass. “I always felt that you were selfish and completely undeserving.”

  “So what made you change your mind about my selfish ways? Daddy showing us what a great life he has without us? Or was it just an epiphany, like lightning striking out of the blue?”

  “I knew that you wouldn’t make this easy for me.”

  “Mom’s always saying that nothing worthwhile is easily gotten.”

  “Sounds true enough.” He drank down his scotch and put his empty glass on the table. “Listen. Not very much has changed. I still think that you’ve had it too easy. You’ve never had to work for anything. Not your grades, money, or even Mama’s love.” Derrick’s look was matter-of-fact. “You’re a spoiled, selfish brat, Desiree. But you really love our mother. And sometimes I think y
ou even love me, despite everything. You’re my blood.” He smiled weakly. “I’ve been a shit, and I’m sorry.”

  Would he be saying this if he knew about her and Victoria? Dez didn’t let herself ponder the question for too long. She needed this reconciliation as much as he did. “Insult-apology accepted.” She finished the rest of her drink. The tumbler settled heavily on the table between them. “Now, are you going to buy us another round?”

  Chapter 17

  Victoriana’s coffee shop hummed with hectic late-evening activity when Dez pulled up at ten-thirty. Cruising was still going along full speed with the baby dykes and old-timers alike giving one another the eye. Even the rich dykes in their pinstripes and designer glasses were getting in on the action. Dez spied one or two that seemed to be just there for the libations, but they were few and far between. She nodded to the girl behind the bar before taking the stairs up to the bookstore.

  Through the small glass opening in the front door, she could see a lone figure moving around behind the cash register. Dez knocked.

  “Hey.” Victoria gestured her in and locked the door behind her. Dez’s flesh started to simmer. She leaned back against the door.

  “Are you done for the night?”

  “Yes,” Victoria said, stepping back behind the counter.

  “Are we alone?”

  “Yes.”

  Dez relaxed into a sigh, closing her eyes as her body made firmer contact with the door. “Come here.”

  “We’re going out, remember?” Victoria said, but came anyway, walking toward her with slow deliberate steps.

  “After,” Dez said, reaching for what she wanted.

  Victoria’s mouth tasted of “yes” and “right now,” flavors that made Dez’s knees weak and her underwear sopping wet.

  “Do you—shit!—do you have a couch or something?” She gasped when Victoria’s cool fingers touched her breasts, inciting her nipples with delicate pinches. She pulled her mouth away. “Tell me,” she swallowed. “Is there anything that you don’t want me to do?” It seemed the easiest question to ask.

  “No dildos,” Victoria breathed in her ear. “I don’t want you to fuck me with anything but your fingers and tongue.”

  Dez felt the strap-on cupped in the seam of her button-flies droop in disappointment. Maybe this wasn’t going to work. She tried to pull away but Victoria licked Dez’s mouth and drew the full lower lip between her teeth.

  “Chicken?”

  Dez laughed, never one to back out of a dare. “No, that’s not what I want to eat right now.” She reached under Victoria’s long skirt to cup that sweet ass she’d been thinking about for so long.

  “What, you want to toss my salad?” Victoria nibbled her lips. “I’d suggest something more substantial if you were planning on staying at my house all night. We wouldn’t want you to pass out from lack of proper nutrients.”

  Dez chuckled. “Fine, you win.” She slid her fingers in the back of Victoria’s panties for one last squeeze. “We have reservations for eleven o’clock anyway.”

  Dez took her to Anansi, a late-night restaurant that didn’t close its doors until two-thirty in the morning. She and Rémi had been here a time or two, solidifying their friendship over a bottle of expensive wine and a well-prepared meal. The tuxedoed host escorted them to a secluded table, weaving them through the crowd of wealthy night owls just beginning their evening’s pleasure. Dinah Washington’s “Call Me Irresponsible” crooned from the restaurant’s hidden speakers.

  “This is an interesting place. I’ve never been here before.”

  “Good.” Dez guided Victoria to her chair with a possessive hand at the small of her back. “I hope to introduce you to a lot of new experiences before we’re through.”

  The host hid his smile as he placed menus on the table in front of them. “Enjoy your meal, ladies.”

  Dez dismissed him with a nod. “The desserts here are fantastic. I usually make sure to save room for some.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.” Victoria murmured as she opened her menu. A smile played at the corner of her mouth.

  Anticipation slowly uncurled like a fanged snake in Dez’s belly as the evening progressed. She didn’t want to eat, at least not food. Victoria’s face captured her attention and held it. The full curve of her mouth, her throat moving as she swallowed her food, the nervous fire in her eyes. Dez couldn’t remember being this anxious to have a woman, to have anything. When the waiter came back, she ordered wine for them both, toasting Victoria’s beauty and her good judgment in saying yes to Dez’s proposition. She wanted her to say yes again, say it later when she had the soft woman spread out under her on the bed, when she had those legs in the air, those thighs clasped around her ears. She forced herself to calm down. At this rate she wouldn’t last more than five minutes in Victoria’s bedroom. She felt like a horny teenaged boy. With a hand that shook, she lifted her glass of wine.

  When their dinner came, she couldn’t eat. But Victoria didn’t have that problem.

  “You really enjoy your food, don’t you?” She smiled at Victoria’s half-finished plate of pasta. Just keep talking. If I keep talking then I won’t be able to think so much about fucking. Victoria licked a spot of Alfredo sauce from her bottom lip and Dez clenched inside her jeans.

  “Yes.” The other woman looked suddenly bashful. “I told a lie the other day when I said that I liked to cook more than I like to eat.”

  Dez’s raised eyebrow begged her to continue, anything to keep her from thinking about licking a different kind of cream from a different set of lips.

  “I like both. Very much.”

  “Ah. I never would have guessed.”

  Victoria blushed and smiled when it became obvious that Dez wasn’t making fun of her appetite, was in fact pleased by it. Very pleased.

  After the main course was finished, they ordered dessert to share. Two forks and tiramisu. Victoria’s preference. She ate while Dez, the happy voyeur, watched and took only occasional bites of the rich and creamy cake. While they talked, Victoria gestured with her fork, tapping it against her mouth, pointing it in the air, but always licking it clean after each bite of the tiramisu. Her lipstick was long gone and her mouth shining wet and slightly pink in the dim, low-hanging light when Victoria pushed the half-finished dessert away with a sigh of deep satisfaction. Dez reached for her cigarettes.

  “Mind if I smoke?” She was already taking one from the pack.

  “Yes, I do.” Victoria leaned across the table. “You have to know that smoking—no matter how expensive the tobacco”—she made a dismissive gesture at the slim green box—“is not good for you.”

  “I do, but I like smoking.” But she put the cigarettes away.

  “There are much better things to put in your mouth.”

  “I wouldn’t deny that.” Whatever game this was, she liked it already. “But this is all I have right now.”

  Victoria dipped a finger in the remains of the tiramisu that sat between them. “Here,” she said and leaned across the table toward her dinner companion.

  Intrigued and suddenly in desperate need of a fix that had nothing to do with nicotine, Dez pushed her wineglass aside to brace one arm against the table. She opened her mouth. Before the finger could touch her lips, her tongue snaked out to lick its underside. She pretended not to hear Victoria’s quick intake of breath. Her tongue curled around that finger, licking catlike at the sticky crumbs before pulling the digit into her mouth. Unseen, her tongue worked vicious magic, dipping into the flesh between Victoria’s fingers then retreated, only to begin a suggestive suck and release motion. The crotch of her briefs was wet. But that happened the moment she saw Victoria get out of the truck and begin her slow ascent up the restaurant steps. Now it was much worse. She was soaking in her own juices, legs splayed wide under the table, and the seam of her pants tight against her clit.

  “Do you want to continue this elsewhere?” Breathless anticipation made Victoria’s question a demand.<
br />
  “No.” Dez released the finger and sat back in her chair. “I would have enjoyed my cigarette here. Why not this?” Her voice deepened. “Come closer.”

  Victoria started to lean across the table again but Dez shook her head. “Here, next to me.”

  Their table was intimately placed, blocked from most of the restaurant by several large plants, but they weren’t completely hidden from view.

  Victoria didn’t seem to care. “Where do you want me?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I work well with both hands.” And she wanted them both on this woman right now. She wanted to feel the slide of her wet pussy, to curl inside Victoria and hear her gasp. When the chair moved next to hers, she sighed with anticipation.

  Under the cover of the tablecloth, she started to lift Victoria’s skirt. “May I?”

  “Please.” Her voice trembled. “Please do.”

  That was all she needed. Dez traced a finger along the smooth skin of her thigh, lifting the skirt as she went. “I would rather have your creamy little pussy as a second dessert.” Her fingers found the damp crotch of silk panties. “But this will have to do for now.”

  A low moan came from Victoria’s throat when Dez touched her.

  “Remember, you can’t be too loud. We are in a public place after all.” Then she proceeded to test her self-control.

  Dez would have liked to see Victoria’s breasts, the hardening nipples with the pucker of raisins, the taste of sweet milk. With a quick flick of her fingers, Victoria loosened the first button of her blouse, then a second. Dez held her breath and slowed the downward stroke of her fingers. A third button, then the silk bra with its lush weight teased Dez’s eyes and brought sudden moisture to her mouth. She unconsciously leaned forward and bit her lip.

  Now it was Victoria’s turn to laugh. “We’re in a public place, remember?” The last word was barely whispered before Dez’s fingers continued their dance. They slid between the slick petals, around her clit, alternatively stroking and pushing until Victoria’s breath came in little gasps. Her hand clutched the white tablecloth and spilled the rest of Dez’s water into the unfinished dessert, sending the glass rolling from the table to the rug on the floor. They both ignored it. Victoria’s thigh, pressed alongside Dez’s, began to shake.