Pushing Up Daisies (12 page)

Daisy inched up as she felt his hardness between her split. She wiggled as he moved the tip up and down, teasing her. Quickly, she turned over. “I want to see you. I want to see your face.”

Adonis moved her hair from her eyes and pulled her legs over his shoulders. Again, he tasted her. He looked into her eyes, licked his lips, and positioned himself. His hardness spread her, and her pulse quickened as he gently worked himself inside.

Daisy awoke thirsty. The delicious sex from the night before had left her dehydrated. She carefully removed Adonis’s arm from her waist and sat up on the edge of the mattress, smiling to herself. It had been some time since she’d spooned. She eased out of the bed and flinched, the ache between her legs a reminder of the wonderful, long night she’d had. Adonis had been magnificent. His desire to please had caused her to throw all inhibitions to the wind. After her first climax, she’d become as carefree as him. She’d done things she’d only heard about, things she’d always said she’d never do.
If pleasure is pain, pain is pleasure.

“Hey, you,” Adonis said, walking into the kitchen.

“Hey,” Daisy echoed, avoiding his eyes. She felt a little embarrassed about having let herself go. Although she had enjoyed their night, she didn’t want him to think that she’d always been so loose.

He kissed her on the cheek. “You okay?”

“What makes you ask that?” Daisy laughed.

“Just wondering.”

“I’m fine. Oh, and about last night…I don’t want you to think that I’m always—”

Adonis waved her off and grinned. “Don’t worry, baby. I could tell. Anyway, we’re adults.” His eyes narrowed seductively. “But you sure learn fast,” he added, patting her butt.

“Stop it.”

“So, what’s up? Wanna do something today?”

Daisy sighed. “I need to get back to the house. I promised Jay we’d do something today.”

“Let’s all do something together. It’ll be good for him. I can be like a big brother. He needs a man in his life. We can catch a couple of games, drink a few beers. You know…man stuff.” Daisy’s eyes widened, and Adonis laughed. “I’m teasing. But I can pick him up weekly and take him out. You know, do things with him that a man should do.”

Daisy punched him on the arm playfully. “I’ll think about it.”

Daisy walked into the bedroom and found Jay huddled in the corner with his basketball blanket wrapped around him. His eyes were wide and unreadable.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she said as she moved closer.

He grabbed her knees and held on tightly, almost making her lose her balance. “Ms. Ming Li’s dead!”

Daisy’s heart began pounding. What was he talking about? She’d just seen Ming Li. “No, baby. You must’ve had a nightmare. She left as soon as I came in.”

Jay shook his head and started crying. “No, Mom, I’m telling you, she’s dead! I heard her screaming all night, and she was still screaming this morning.”

Daisy started to interrupt him, then something told her to let him have his say.

“Someone was hurting her. I ran downstairs and called her name, but she didn’t hear me, she was screaming
so
loud. I opened her door and saw a man on top of her. The covers were moving up and down.”

Daisy rolled her eyes, sighing. She couldn’t believe that Ming Li would volunteer to babysit, then have a man in the house. “No, baby. Ming Li’s fine. That man wasn’t hurting her.”

Jay’s expression changed from fear to curiosity. Then he snapped his fingers in understanding. “Ohhh…okay. They were doing what I was watching on Cinemax last night—”

“What? What were you watching?” Daisy put her hands on her hips.

“I saw this man and woman on TV doing ‘the nasty.’ ” Jay paused, looked at Daisy fearfully. “I’m not in trouble, am I? Ms. Ming Li said I could stay up and watch whatever I wanted, as long as I didn’t disturb her.”

Daisy felt as though someone had knocked the wind out of her.
What the hell is wrong with that bitch? We’re leaving.
“Go take a shower and get dressed, Jay,” she said in an I-dare-you-not to-listen tone. “Now!”

Daisy rifled through her oversize, overfilled purse and retrieved her wallet. She selected the credit cards that were still good and could be used for cash advances, then counted the money that she’d been saving to move.

She shook her head at the one thousand and some odd dollars that she held. It wouldn’t be enough, but she’d have to make do somehow.

Grabbing an old newspaper from the corner desk, she flipped to the real estate section and pulled a pen from her purse. Apartments rented quickly in New York. Sometimes it took weeks, even months, to find something suitable. She’d give it a shot.

After circling and calling several that were within her budget, Daisy rested her forehead in her hand, exhausted from the effort. Finally, exhaling deeply, she decided to go through the ads once more. If she didn’t find something this time, she’d have to go out and buy a current newspaper. There was one ad she hadn’t called, one that she’d avoided: a crime-infested section of Hell’s Kitchen. She swallowed hard and thought about Jay. She assumed he’d never seen a neighborhood like that one. But it had its good points, and it was being renovated.
Everyone needs a little culture. Better for him to learn about struggling than to end up emotionally screwed up, thinking that someone is killing the nymphomaniac.

Daisy and Gigi turned onto Forty-third Street for the fourth time and finally found a space to park. The block was a mixture of newer buildings and horrible, aging ones. Daisy knew she probably couldn’t afford the better ones, but prayed not to get a raggedy one.

“Well, maybe it won’t be so bad,” she said to Gigi.

Disgust was written all over Gigi’s expression. “You sure you want to do this? It could be awful. I told you that you guys could stay with me.”

Daisy opened her car door. “Come on. And thanks anyway. But you know I don’t want to be around Marcus. Anyway, who knows? Maybe it’ll be nice.”

“Yeah, right. I don’t know why you can’t just hear him out. You’d forgive him if you knew his side of the story.”

Daisy shot Gigi a don’t-try-it look.

“Whatever, then,” Gigi muttered, following reluctantly. “Well, I
can
loan you some money, you know.”

Daisy waved her off, stopping in front of the five-story walkup. The steps were a little cracked and could have used a new cement job, but the entrance was clean and graffiti-free. She looked at Gigi and nodded. “If the inside looks like the outside, we might be okay.”

Daisy walked around the tiny studio apartment, which didn’t require much more than turning around. The place was a lot smaller than what they were used to, but larger than the bedroom they shared at Ming Li’s.

She took in the dingy paint and scuffed floors. “All it needs is a good cleaning,” she whispered to Gigi.

“The hallway stinks. Sort of reminds me of mopped-up piss—lingering.”

Daisy turned to the building super, Mrs. Janowski, who was leaning against the door in a multicolored muumuu, holding a broom in her large, age-spotted hands. Daisy focused on her eyes and tried not to stare at her purplish-blue-tinged gray hair, or the huge mole on her cheek.

“I thought the ad said this was a one-bedroom.”

Mrs. Janowski coughed and wheezed, then smiled genuinely. “Turn to the right, just off the kitchen.”

Gigi laughed. “I thought that was a breakfast area.”

“Me, too.”

“No, it’s a one-bedroom.” She pulled a pocket door from the wall and slid it closed. “Much bigger than a studio, trust me.” She pinched her thumb and index finger together. “This big, I tell you. If you want it, let me know. I’ll have someone come in to paint and clean it. The stove and refrigerator will be replaced.” She shrugged, then went on, “Probably secondhand and small, but clean.”

Daisy looked at Gigi, who shook her head.

Daisy turned to Mrs. Janowski. “Is it okay if I clean it and buy my own paint to save money? I don’t have much, and my son and I really need a place. My credit’s okay, and I have a pretty good job. Salary.”

The super waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I understand. I don’t do credit checks, and I don’t do rental agreements. This is one of my son’s buildings. He lives on Long Island in a big fancy-schmancy house. Can you believe the schmuck leaves me here? He’d let his own mother live like this, while his wife lives like a queen. So I do what I want. You want it, you got it.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure. Just give me two months’ rent up front. And forget the deposit. But you hafta buy your own paint.”