by Fiona Zedde
“I’ll make this one quick.” She hauled her lover’s hips closer, over the armrest and gearshift, all without taking her fingers from inside the velvety pussy. Dez leaned closer, suffocating in sweet citrus and powder and aroused sweat, to nuzzle the hard-tipped breast out of Victoria’s blouse, and sucked the nipple deep into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks, licking its turgid warmth between the pincers of her teeth. Dez squirmed in the seat and her clit slid wet and swollen against the seam of her jeans.
“Baby . . .”
Her thumb flickered over Victoria’s clit while her fingers delved deeper, faster. Then her lover was coming, clutching Dez’s fingers tight, sucking them farther inside her with each moan and hitch and gasp. As Victoria’s breath calmed, Dez still licked her nipple and breast, slurping like her lover was a really good mound of ice cream she was afraid was going to melt.
“Hmmm. . . .” Her hands roved over Dez’s hair. Then with a low sigh she released the other breast from her blouse. Dez pounced on the newly exposed skin with her hands and mouth. Her pussy was drenched and tight inside her jeans.
The sound of her zipper going down filled the truck. She just needed one more second. Dez fumbled past the opening in her jeans and plunged her fingers into her own pussy. Her thumb flicked against her throbbing clit. All she needed was—“Fuck!” Once, twice, then she was coming hard against her own fingers with her mouth fastened to Victoria’s nipple. Her ragged breathing gradually slowed. She lifted herself from Victoria and arranged the other woman back in the passenger seat. Dez’s back and the hollow between her breasts slid wetly with sweat.
“Okay, now I can concentrate.”
Victoria chuckled, moving in slow motion as she slid her shoes back on. “Speak for yourself. How can I go back to work like this?”
“I’m not done with you yet. Relax. I meant what I said about an hour. That was barely fifteen minutes.” She released another breath then started the car. “Seat belt, please.” And they were off.
Dez took her to the pier. It was very seductive at night, but in the day it was only a little romantic with the seagulls pitching to and fro just above the waves and the constant flow of pedestrians on the sidewalk barely ten feet away. The seat they finally settled on was at the end of the long strip of cement benches, practically sitting in the water. It was the only bench facing east and that, along with its close proximity to the high splashing waves, afforded them some privacy.
Victoria looked around. “So, why this place?”
“I want to sit and spend some quiet time with you.” Dez’s glance lingered on her face, watching for any sign of unease. She felt like she was confessing some filthy little secret.
Victoria smiled and snuggled back into her arms. “That’s nice.” She fit her back against Dez’s belly and breasts, and wrapped the taller woman’s arms around her own middle. “I like it when you’re nice.”
Dez made a noncommittal sound as she laid her chin on top of Victoria’s head. She’d used some type of hair gel. It wasn’t bad, just different, with its faint smell of apricots.
“You don’t do anything with your days, do you?” Victoria asked suddenly.
“I think about you,” Dez murmured, slipping a hand under her blouse to touch the powder-smooth belly. A light spray off the ocean flew up above the railing and washed over them. Victoria snapped her eyes closed with a soft scream and whirled around to bury her face in Dez’s shoulder.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Dez laughed.
The flecks of water deflected the day’s heat, rising up as steam from her flesh in a thin vapor.
Victoria’s only response was to burrow deeper into her lover’s skin and laugh. “So you don’t have a hobby or job?”
What happened to their nice, quiet time? Dez had heard this before from various people she’d encountered in one town or another. Typical proletarian types who believed that the road to riches, or heaven, was paved with the sweat of one’s brow and a little blood thrown in for good measure. “My hobby is actually enjoying myself. And I do it quite well. I’ve never been one to need manual labor to instill character in me. All that stuff is overrated.”
She looked down at Victoria’s abrupt stillness. “What?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never had a job?”
“All right, I won’t tell you.”
Victoria shook her head. “I don’t know why that surprises me.”
“Me either. Now shut up and enjoy me. You only have twenty minutes left.”
Thirty-five minutes and a long kiss later, Dez dropped her off at the store with a promise to call. Rémi and Sage had a few things planned for the evening, so that call would probably not happen until a very long time later.
That night, she put on the leather, the white muscle shirt, and the thick black dick in her pants, ready for whatever her friends had planned. But she ended the pretense by calling Rémi and Sage to tell them that she couldn’t come with them to the party, even if every girl there was Tina Turner fine.
After she hung up the phone, she walked the length of the house, staring up through the stained glass at the moon and the flotilla of clouds trailing below it. Dez still carried the phone in her hand. She knew what she wanted to do, but waited until she was about to jump out of her skin to do it.
“That is a nice surprise,” Victoria said when she answered the phone.
“Good. Does that mean you’ll come out with me to South Beach if I ask nice? I’m sure you know that Derrick’s out of town.”
Laughter gurgled at her from the other end of the connection. “Yes, I will and I do. Is there a particular dress code?”
“Nope. Just sexy enough to turn me on. And a little easy access would be nice.”
The laughter came again. “I know just the outfit.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up on the bike in an hour.”
By eleven they were speeding across the bridge heading for the beach. Victoria clung to her from behind, softly scented and touchable in a way that made Dez ache. She’d followed through on the outfit, guaranteeing with just a few strips of cloth and a cheeky grin that Dez would be hot for her all night. The tall woman said as much, eyeing her new toy with undisguised lust as she parked the bike, then extended an arm for her to take as they joined the flow of pretty people meandering along Lincoln Road.
“What made you decide to call me, Dez? Bored?”
Victoria was all charm and flirtation, walking slowly by Dez’s side, occasionally pressing close so that other pedestrians could pass by them on the sidewalk.
“I was a little bored, actually. Then I thought of this cute little shop owner who probably wouldn’t mind livening up my night.”
She wrinkled her nose at Dez’s description of her, but said nothing. Her mouth was shining and coy, inviting Dez to give into the urge to kiss her. She tasted like peach lip gloss.
“Tell me, Dez. Cute little shop owners aside, has any girl ever gotten under your skin?”
Dez didn’t pause at the apparent non sequitur. With Victoria’s body pressing close, she forced herself to think of long-ago women. “Yeah, Marva Kennedy in high school.”
“High school doesn’t even count. Especially not when you were in ninth grade.”
“No, you perv. It was tenth.”
Victoria laughed, just like Dez intended, grasping the tall woman’s arm and pressing her breasts and scent against her.
“It was actually twelfth,” she said when Victoria’s chuckles died away. “She was a senior. Pretty and popular, of course. On the cheerleading squad. When I saw her do the splits, I knew I had to have her.” Dez did a fair imitation of a leer that earned her a swat on the arm.
“And you never took the chance to ask her out.”
“What? Are you crazy? Of course I did.” She guided Victoria around a cluster of gay boys gathered around a BDSM window display, giggling at the whip-wielding mannequin in the ice-pick stilettos and cherry red strap-on dick. “The pussy was good. I was good. But she went b
ack to her jock boyfriend, anyway. Looking back, I think that’s what got under my skin about her, that she dumped me for some boy who couldn’t even make her come. She was the last girl who did that to me.”
“You left them all first, huh?”
“Damn right.”
Victoria shook her head. “You are an awful woman. What am I still doing with you?”
“Because I am so awful. You love it. Your own bad girl on a leash.”
Taking advantage of the thinning crowd, she pressed Victoria against the cool glass of a shop window and kissed her. In her tight black leather, short hair, and cock-strong attitude, she could be—to unfamiliar eyes—either a beautiful boy or a gorgeous girl, showing off her sexy date on a Saturday night. Here on the beach, few cared if she was either, only that she not ruin their fun with any foolishness.
A hint of red behind the shorter woman caught her eye. “That would really look good on you.” It was a corset. “It would set off that fantastic ass of yours to perfection. You’d look so pretty in it when I fuck your pussy from the back.” Her hands slid under Victoria’s blouse to tease the sensitive flesh at her spine as she kept her voice deliberately light and teasing, smiling when what she wanted to do was drop to her knees and taste Victoria’s nipples, then dip lower to her wild-haired pussy and stay there all night.
Victoria turned around to look at the leather and lace confection. Her wet mouth twitched. “Then you should buy it.”
Dez chuckled then dragged Victoria into the shop. Moments later, they emerged from the lingerie shop with a small pink bag, both of them giggling like teenagers.
“I thought I was going to have to pry that girl out of your dressing room.”
“She was just trying to be helpful.”
“Right, and get a real eyeful while she was at it. But I don’t blame her. I would’ve done the same thing.”
“No, you would have had me out of that corset and on the dressing room floor with . . . some part of your anatomy on my person.”
Dez laughed. “Or, more accurately, in your person.” “Hm, even better.”
They meandered away from the main drag and found a relatively quiet street with an open ice-cream shop and an uninterrupted view of the star-dotted night sky.
“Want some ice cream?” Victoria asked. “My treat.”
“Sure. Uh . . . Mexican hot chocolate in a waffle cone, please.”
“Whatever the lady wants.”
Dez shook her head. She hadn’t been called a lady in a long time. And probably never in that lightly teasing and intimate tone of voice. Victoria walked away from her, shimmying up the short ramp to the shop. A smile lingered on her mouth as she found them a bench a short distance away from where she could watch both her lover and the eclectic mix of people strolling by. The little shop had a steady business despite the slight chill in the air. Couples filed in and out of the clear glass doors, laughing and leaning closely together. Inside the store she noticed a few women—obviously dykes—checking Victoria out. They were subtle, eyeing her curves in a way that Dez had done a thousand times before. One of them separated from their group and approached her. Dez couldn’t hear their words, but whatever the butch said made Victoria laugh.
She felt something cold and hard drop in the pit of her belly. Dez looked over the thick, fairly attractive woman, wondering how it would feel to pound her face in and what she would have to say to Victoria then. A part of her brain analyzed the emotion and squirmed. What the hell did she have to be jealous about? It wasn’t as if the woman was a better lay than she was, or was even better-looking. At best she was more charming. Maybe even nicer and more—what was that phrase an old fuck buddy of hers always used?—emotionally available. That was it. But that didn’t make the feeling go away. At least Victoria didn’t give her number to the charming butch. She smiled and said something else before walking out of the store with two waffle cones in hand. The woman held the door open for her. Victoria was still smiling when she walked up to Dez.
“Here you go. A Mexican hot chocolate, plain.”
She sat next to her on the bench with her own cone of rainbow-sprinkled coconut ice cream, and smiled over at Dez. The iceberg in her belly dissolved at that look and she smiled back.
With the other woman watching her and taking broad, hungry licks of her cone as she directed flirtatious glances her way, Dez managed to calm her mind to a manageable pitch. There was nothing for her to be jealous about. Victoria wasn’t interested in anybody else. Dez took a bite of her dessert, savoring the cool bath of the peppery chocolate ice cream beneath her palate.
“Hey, Dez.”
She couldn’t stop the flinch from moving across her face. She saw it reflected in the surprise in Victoria’s eyes and the soft note of query that began to shape on her lips. Dez looked away and up, knowing what she would see even before Ruben and Caitlyn appeared in her line of sight. In their matching burgundy shirts and tight jeans they could have passed for any typical heterosexual couple on the street. If Ruben hadn’t said anything she wouldn’t have known they were there. And her Saturday night would have continued being perfect.
She met his eyes with the winter’s chill in hers. “Ruben. Caitlyn.” Then she looked away, dismissing them.
“Who’s your friend, Dez?” Ruben asked. “Don’t be rude.”
“I wasn’t being rude, just trying to go on with my good time. Is it too much for me to wish you would do the same?”
Caitlyn opened her pretty red mouth to say something, but Dez shook her head. She wasn’t in the mood to be nice. Not tonight. Not even with Victoria sitting so close by.
“I’m Ruben.” He extended his hand under Victoria’s nose, forcing her to give it a limp shake. “And this is my girlfriend, Caitlyn.” For some reason it had seemed less absurd when he and Dez were seeing each other. Two queers together, that seemed right. This . . . wasn’t.
“Nice to meet you.” To her credit, Victoria didn’t hesitate, she went on eating her ice cream while Ruben looked expectantly at her.
“Sorry about nearly running you over with my cart at the store the other day, Dez. I meant to apologize then but you were gone so fast.” Caitlyn was a nice girl. Very sweet. Under different circumstances she and Dez might have become friends. Or something.
“No apology needed. What happened, happened. I’ve moved on.” The words fell in a monotone from her lips. “You should, too.” Yes, please move on so I can get on with my date.
Ruben turned away from Victoria after it became obvious that she wasn’t going to offer him anything. “So who is your new woman, Dez? You been keeping secrets from me?”
She looked at him as if he’d lost his whole damn mind. “I’m not in the mood for this, Ruben. Keep on going wherever it is you’re going.”
“Does she know that you do dick?” His hand drifted to his crotch. “And not just the one you probably have strapped to your pussy right now.”
Dez abruptly stood up. “I guess I wasn’t clear last time we spoke, Ru.” Her voice was a quiet rumble deep in her chest. She wasn’t even ready to look at Victoria and see what effect his little declaration had had on her. “Whenever you see me out in public, in the gay bars or wherever—and I’ll show you the same courtesy—I want you to pretend I’m not there. Not a ‘hello,’ not a ‘how’s it hanging?’, nothing that would indicate we’d ever had any kind of previous relationship.” She looked from one pale face to the other. “Is that clear?” At her ex-lover’s arch look, she actually snarled. “That means leave me the fuck alone.”
People were beginning to stare. Some looked from the corners of their eyes as they walked past. Others didn’t even bother to pretend that they weren’t gawking.
Caitlyn noticed them, too. “Come on, Ruben.” She linked her fingers with her boyfriend and tugged him toward the ice-cream shop. “Give it a rest.” She glanced briefly at Dez.
“Sorry.”
Because Ruben was that sort, he allowed himself to be led away. But not before
showing Dez all his teeth in a mocking grin. Dez turned her back to him and faced Victoria.
“Sorry about that.” She cleared her throat.
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” She put her ice cream on the bench beside her as Dez sat down, arranging the leaking cone on a neat pile of napkins. “Are you all right?”
“Not right now, but I will be.” Dez made an abrupt noise and threw the rest of her ice cream in the trash. “You ready to go?”
“No.” Victoria picked up her ice cream, and then folded the napkins into a square. Loose rainbow sprinkles escaped the paper and tumbled into her lap, but Victoria brushed them away without glancing down.
The tightness in Dez’s chest worsened. They were going to have a conversation about this. And it wasn’t going to go well. Victoria watched her face, slowly eating her ice cream. Her eyes seemed to take in every part of Dez—the clenched teeth, the mouth that had lost its smile somewhere along the way, even her old battered heart that was beating way too fast in her chest.
“Did you love him?”
“Yes.” The answer to the unexpected question croaked past Dez’s dry lips.
“Do you love him now?”
“No.”
“Good.” Victoria’s teeth crunched into the last bite of her cone. “Now I’m ready.”
They rode back to the city in silence with Victoria clutched tight against Dez’s back as the bike wove through late-night traffic. The other woman’s hands rested against her belly, snug underneath her jacket, keeping her warm.
Chapter 29
Victoria was beautiful. Dez could never get enough of looking at her. She made herself comfortable on the end of the high four-poster bed, adjusting the sprawl of her legs against the white cotton sheets, taking care that her special occasion thong didn’t ride up too far and slip between her outer lips until she was ready. Victoria’s skin really was the most luscious thing, an enticing mix of caramel and cream that made Dez’s tongue beg for a taste. She hung between two poles in Dez’s sparsely decorated guest bedroom. Arms and legs spread wide and tied to the poles with red velvet rope. Red definitely was her color. Except for the bed and a set of built-in shelves stocked with towels, lotions, and toys, the thick wooden poles that ran from ceiling to floor were the only furniture in the room.
