A Taste of Sin (24 page)

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Authors: Fiona Zedde

Tags: #African American Women, #General, #Romance, #Erotic Fiction, #Adult, #Love Stories, #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Lesbians

BOOK: A Taste of Sin
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Sage didn’t sing often, but when she did she liked to do it onstage where everyone could see. If possible, she was even cockier in the spotlight, all strut and butch appeal, flirting with dykes and straight girls alike as her girlfriend watched and admired from her choice seat. Everyone at their table, and maybe others, knew that Sage had fucked the slim woman with the long legs and acres of hair weave. According to Mrs. Jones, it hadn’t been half-bad. She and Sage had taken her out for a long test drive together.
The final notes of the song tapered off amid the crowd’s enthusiastic applause. Sage grinned and tried to look humble. She and Phil smiled at each other across the crowded club and she rolled up her sleeves, laying bare tattoos and muscle and the shaky heterosexual status of some women in the place. Her next song was “Fever.”
Dez had to laugh. Sage was wicked, but that was one of the reasons she got so much pussy. She nodded at Rémi as her friend sat down. The club owner was working tonight, cultivating her exclusive clientele by sitting and chatting with some regulars and anyone she recognized as new at Gillespie’s. With a low sigh she dropped her hat in the middle of the table and stretched out her long legs.
“It’s nice and packed tonight,” Phil said.
“Like damn near every night.” Dez lifted her beer in a silent toast. “Excellent investment idea, man. Excellent.”
“Of course. Although sometimes it does get a little tiring.”
“Maybe if you weren’t up all night fucking, you’d feel more rested,” Dez grinned.
“Hm. Good point.”
Phil chuckled. “Very good point.” She briefly looked at the waitress who was setting down their various refills before turning her attention back to her girlfriend on the stage.
Dez salted the back of her hand and downed a shot of tequila. The liquor rubbed against the back of her throat as it went down smoothly like warm silk. She was taking it easy tonight. Beer and tequila, that was it. Her blood felt pleasantly fizzy and, while she wasn’t drunk, everything was
very
all right with the world. It had been almost a week since that amazing morning at Victoria’s house. Since then, they’d been together over a dozen times, whenever the bookstore owner could spare time in her schedule for a long, leisurely fuck. Dez didn’t quite like the idea of a quickie with her—everything with this one needed to be savored—but she wouldn’t rule out the idea if it was her only option.
“Oh, there’s a cute one,” Rémi nudged her. “I bet she likes to wrestle.”
She turned in her chair to look where Rémi had indicated with a jerk of her chin. Dez took in the bald head and tall lanky body just making its way into the club and nodded in agreement. Then she saw the woman’s face.
Figures
. Just her luck, the woman turned and saw Dez checking her out. Never one to back away from even a potential challenge, Dez winked and pursed her lips at Mick. She knew Victoria’s little friend wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, but what the hell?
“You know her?” Rémi asked.
“Something like that.”
Phil joined in the conversation. “Was it worth it?”
“Not really.” Especially not with the bullshit she put her through at the dinner party a few weeks ago.
“Too bad,” Phil said.
“Yeah.” Dez stood up. “I’m heading to the ladies’ room.
Be right back.”
 
Dez wove through the crowded club to the relative quiet of the back hallway leading to the bathroom. She felt a presence behind her but paid it little attention. As she hesitated at the left turn into the bathrooms, someone pushed her past the toilets to the vestibule farther down the hallway that led to the club’s back exit. Dez grunted as her back hit the wood-paneled wall.
What the fuck?
“You don’t fool me, you little bitch.” Mick pressed against her, breath hot against Dez’s mouth. “Sniffing after Tori like you’re just filled with good intentions.”
“Obviously you don’t remember a thing about me.” Dez grinned. “I’m not ‘little’ anywhere.” She held her arms flat against the wood paneling of the hallway, not touching Victoria’s friend. “Go home to your girlfriend.” Dez moved her arms, a subtle demand for release, but Mick apparently wasn’t ready to leave.
“Why don’t you leave Tori alone? She’s a nice girl who deserves better than anything you have to offer.”
“I’m not in the mood for this.” Dez abruptly brought her thigh up, firmly between Mick’s legs. “Why are you all in my shit? Kavi not giving it to you good at home? Does she fuck you so good that it makes you cry? Like I did.” Rough breath jerked against her face as Mick twitched against her then backed away. Dez chuckled. “Mind your own fucking business,
Michelle
.” Then she shoved her off. The woman’s back hit the wall on the other side of the hallway, but she immediately bounced back and came for Dez.
“Don’t do it, little girl.” Her glance flickered down the hall with its steady trickle of female patrons trying not to look their way. “I won’t play nice with you this time.”
Mick stopped. Her eyes scraped Dez with a look, then she backed off, walking back down the hallway from where she came. Dez leaned back against the wall, looking after Victoria’s friend and watchdog with a frown.
Women. Jeezus!
Chapter 20
 
“Y
ou are without a doubt the best fuck buddy I’ve ever had.” Victoria panted from the rumpled sheets.
Dez pushed herself off the bed and stood up. With not-quite-steady hands, she tucked in her shirt, pulled up her zipper, buckled her belt and smoothed the phantom wrinkles from her pants. “And you’ve had how many?” A smile misted across her mouth.
With her body bare and glistening from the sweat of their sex, Victoria lay beautiful and replete in her bed. The damp sprawl of her thighs exuded its tempting, briny scent, a scent that still lingered on Dez’s mouth and fingers. She licked her lips and something in that action reminded Dez of last night. She hadn’t bothered mentioning the scene with Mick at Gillespie’s to Victoria. If the bald-headed woman never said anything to her friend, why should she?
“Just you, but I’m very sure that you’d have been exceptional even if there had been twelve or twenty.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be. You know it’s the truth. You’re good at what you do.”
She stopped in the act of reaching for her keys on the floor. “You make me sound like a whore.”
“Nothing so common, love.” Victoria slid up the bed and collapsed against the pillows. “Never anything so common.”
Then she saw the look on Dez’s face. “What? Does that offend you? It shouldn’t.”
But Dez was. Granted she was the one who’d suggested this arrangement. And so far it was working out for them both. Sex nearly every day without the lurking specter of commitment and enough spicy encounters to keep Victoria’s appetite for variety satisfied. But she didn’t sign on to be the disposable stud service. “It’s not simply about offense—” The doorbell interrupted whatever she was going to say next.
“Who on earth is that?” Victoria sat up in the bed. “I’m not expecting anybody.” She stood up and put on her robe. “Don’t go anywhere. I want us to talk about this.”
Dez watched her go. Victoria had called an hour earlier sounding urgent and sexy as hell, her voice low and rough. “I need you now.” She murmured something about her fingers and being wet, but Dez didn’t need to know any more. She was already cutting across three lanes of traffic and heading for Victoria’s house. She had been on the way to meet her mother and Derrick but called them quickly to let them know that she was going to be a few minutes late. Dez rang the doorbell, intrigued but hardly expecting Victoria to drag her inside, pull her pants down, her mouth already open to feast on her pussy. She hadn’t been surprised like that in a long time. And Victoria was very good, eating her pussy past the first orgasm into a second, then dragged her, with her pants still pooled around her ankles, to the bedroom. It was then that Dez took control, filling the drenched woman with three fingers and latching onto her clit with a dry mouth that hungered. And because she had come when she called, Victoria called her a whore.
She pocketed her keys and left the bedroom. Downstairs, Victoria stood in the hallway talking to her visitors. Her normally low and melodious voice was high with surprise.
“We can finish our conversation later,” Dez said, walking past her and two older women in the sunlit entranceway.
“Oh . . . um . . . don’t . . .” She cleared her throat. “Okay.
I’ll call you later on.”
“Did we interrupt something, darling?” one of the women asked.
“No, Mom—”
“Of course we did. We can just get a hotel or drive around for a while until you finish up here.” The second woman stared at Dez with open curiosity. When she saw that no one was going to begin introductions, she extended her hand. “I’m Delia, by the way, Victoria’s mamá. This is my wife, Veronique.”
Victoria looked even more uncomfortable. “Sorry. Mom, Mamá, this is Dez. A friend.”
Dez looked at the women for the first time. Amazingly, they both looked like Victoria. Delia was fine-boned and tall, with her mocha skin, straightened black hair and a white linen trouser suit that made the best of a rail-thin figure. The other was plump and pale with green eyes and a scattering of strawberry freckles across her nose and cheeks. An attractive couple that complemented each other’s unique looks. Dez put on her most respectable face, the one she imagined that parents liked to see on the women fucking their daughters, and shook Delia’s hand.
“Pleased to meet you both.”
Veronique kissed her lightly on both cheeks, then pulled back to look Dez full in the face. “It’s good to meet you, too. We’ve heard a few things about you over the years.”
She couldn’t hide her surprise. “Have you?”
“Oh, yes.”
“But Dez has an appointment somewhere else.” Victoria gripped the edges of her robe. “Don’t you?”
Dez’s smile turned playful. “Unfortunately, I do.” She nodded to the women as she turned to go. “See you soon, though.”
“Soon” turned out to be later that night when Dez called from outside the door demanding to be let in.
“You’ve told your parents about me,” she said the moment Victoria was close.
“No, I haven’t. At least not like that.”
“What does that mean?”
“I . . . might have mentioned you a couple of times before we formally met. You know, as Derrick’s sister.”
“Uh huh. Then why did Veronique look like she wanted to see my innards roasting on a spit when you told her who I was?”
“I have no idea.”
“So you don’t think of me as your whore, then?” She linked her fingers above the high curve of Victoria’s ass and pressed their bodies closer. “Or maybe I’m the whore you mention to your parents on a regular basis.”
“Stop saying that. You know I don’t think of you that way.”
Dez captured her fist and kissed it. “I know. Sometimes I can get a little sensitive.”
“No kidding.”
The sound of laughing voices came from somewhere in the house. Victoria closed the front door and stepped outside, pulling Dez with her.
“You have to go now. My parents are in the guest bedroom upstairs.”
“So does that mean you’re not in the mood for a little quickie?” Dez nuzzled at her throat and slid her thumbs over Victoria’s nipples that were already stiff from the cool night air.
“No, that’s—” she groaned and arched her breasts toward Dez. “Stop. I mean it. Now go home.”
Dez chuckled. “I’m going. Call me later. If your parents’ visit is going to dry up my action, then I want to know as soon as they leave.”
“Have I told you how awful you are?”
“Not recently.”
A smothered giggle tickled Dez’s neck. “Go.” She smacked Dez’s jean-clad backside and pulled away. “I’ll call you.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Dez muttered. But she went anyway, sauntering down the driveway to her bike without a backward glance.

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