Dirty Deeds

by Lauren Landish

  His cock is straining to get out, and I’m both glad and regretful he’s wearing boxers without a front fly. I’d love a peek, but it’s hard enough already to not to want to pull it out. My mouth waters—I can't help it—and Oliver notices my swallow.

  “If that’s what you want,” he says with a deep growl to his voice. There’s no teasing, no fucking around now. One word from me, and he’d fucking ravage me.

  “It is,” I say, my breath rasping again. I turn away, pulling the sheet up and over me before squeezing my eyes shut. Desire burns through me. Oliver clicks off the light, and the minutes pass like years.

  I can’t sleep. Several times, I almost roll over and grab it, reach for him. But I fight back the feeling. I can’t give in. I’m not gonna let him win. But why does it feel like I’m the one losing tonight?

  Oliver

  I wake up in the early morning sunlight to the sound of running water and a hard cock. Rolling onto my back, I let out a soft groan, opening my eyes. The ceiling is so high that it gives me vertigo for a moment, and I close my eyes again, reaching over to feel the warm sheets next to me.

  The spot beside me is empty, Mindy’s soft, sexy body nowhere I can feel. I turn my head and open my eyes, seeing nothing but rumpled sheets that still hold her scent and warmth. She must be taking a shower.

  I slept like hell, maybe the worst night of sleep I’ve ever had. Every time I would close my eyes, they’d fly open again at the slightest sound she made, hoping that every movement was her turning to me, giving in to the moment. I groan again, gripping the bedding and wishing she were right here and ready. I’d punish her with the wood she gave me all night long.

  I look over at the bathroom, my mind drifting into fantasy mode, but after a night of maybe an hour or two of sleep at most, I don’t give a shit.

  I lie in bed, trying not to think about her in that nightgown when she walks out. Thankfully, she’s dressed in blue jeans and a white scoop-neck top, but damn, she still looks hot as fuck. My eyes are silently and quickly undressing her as she saunters across the room and sits in the chair near the window. She bends down to pull on some socks and gives me a look down her top at the valley between her tits. My cock twitches again, and I’m glad the blanket’s over my waist.

  “Sleep well?” Mindy asks, and there’s a hint of a smile on her lips. I know she thinks she’s won, but she’s dead wrong. I can see in her eyes that she’s just as sleep-deprived as I am.

  I yawn, placing my arms behind my neck. “Pretty damn good,” I lie. “Haven’t had a night’s rest that good since the Delaney sisters.” I kick my legs a little, and the blanket slides down to my knees. I don’t do anything to hide my hard-on now, even squirming my hips slightly as if I’m moving to get comfortable. Mindy’s mouth drops open a little, and I know what she’s thinking about. “You?”

  “Oh . . . fine,” she says, her eyes falling to my cock before jerking away. I see red come to her cheeks and I smile.

  “It’s a quarter till eight,” she says, her voice small as she suddenly focuses on making sure the tongue on her shoes is just perfect. “You should get ready. Mom was serious about everyone being there for breakfast.”

  “Leave any hot water for me?” I ask jokingly. A mansion like this could probably heat enough water for a hotel and not have a problem.

  “Should be enough,” she says, still refusing to look at me. She fusses with her shoes a little more, then stands up. “I’m going to head down.”

  “No,” I say, rising from the bed, and she looks at me with surprise. “Wait.”

  “What—” she starts, then crosses her arms underneath her breasts, frustrated. “Why?”

  “Don’t you want us to be more cohesive? We need to go down to breakfast together.”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess,” she says, biting her lip again, and she looks so cute. I smile and swing my legs over, giving her my back as I go over to my bag. “So . . . I guess I’ll just hang out. Hurry, please?”

  I chuckle. Please, now? Progress. “I’ll be ten minutes.”

  I gather a change of clothes, some nice black dress pants and a white dress shirt, and walk into the bathroom. I take a quick cold shower, half to take care of my dick and half to wake me up. After a quick shave, I brush my teeth and step out, feeling more in control of myself.

  Mindy looks up from sitting on the bed, picking at her nails. I see something flash in her eyes and she says, “You look . . . refreshed.”

  I grin. “Thanks. Listen, about last night—”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” she says, giving me a slightly regretful half smile. “What we’ve both been doing is wrong. But we made it through one night. We only have six more to go. Let’s just drop anything that came before and get through this without killing each other.”

  You mean fucking each other, I say in my head.

  “Agreed,” I reply instead, though I know it’s all a lie. There’s too much tension between us. There’s only one way for this to end up, and that’s her playing cowgirl on my cock.

  Still, I smile and offer her my arm. “Ready?”

  She looks at my arm for a moment before she takes it, rising to her feet. We leave, and part of me feels good with Mindy on my arm. Maybe we’re pretending, but I could get used to pretend.

  We go downstairs, but before we enter the dining room, Mindy plasters a heavenly smile on her face.

  “Good morning,” Mary Jo chirps as we walk in. “Thanks for making it on time.”

  I look around and quickly notice that not everyone is here. Aunt Rita and Ivy Jo are here, along with John, but Charles, Layla, and Roxy are missing.

  “Good morning, ladies . . . and John,” I say with charm. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

  “Did you guys sleep well?” Mary Jo asks.

  “Absolutely wonderful, didn’t we, babe?” I ask Mindy. “I slept like a baby,” I add.

  Mindy nods. “Mmmhmm. That bed was really comfortable and the room was gorgeous. I loved the view from the balcony. I felt like I was sleeping at the Ritz Carlton.”

  “I hope some baby-making action was going on,” Ivy Jo mutters. “Less viewing. More screwing.”

  I chuckle as everyone seems to ignore her. I guess she’s earned the right to say whatever the hell she wants at her age.

  John sets down his spoon, standing up from his plate of grits and eggs to give Mindy a hug. “I’m glad you both enjoyed your room. You know we just had it redone? My father had turned it into my playroom when I was a child. I just couldn’t see doing that anymore, so I had it restored and upgraded.”

  “It’s lovely,” Mindy says, looking around. “Hey, where’s Roxy?”

  Her mom scowls, and I have to laugh. Mothers everywhere are the same. “Late to breakfast, as usual. I swear, that child . . .”

  “And Uncle Charles?” Mindy asks, hoping to stop a rant before it begins.

  Rita shakes her head. “Honey, you’ll be lucky if he’s up by two. He usually skips breakfast. It’s those damn cigs. He has no appetite.”

  “Good morning, lovelies,” a cheery, singsong voice says. Roxy walks in looking bright faced, a disgruntled Layla behind her. “How are my favorite people?”

  Roxy goes around kissing everyone before sitting, totally ignoring the daggers her mother is staring at her. Meanwhile, Layla sort of slumps into a chair, still looking like she’d prefer to be anywhere but here.

  “Would’ve been better if you were here on time,” Mary Jo finally says, stabbing at her eggs like she’s ready to murder the chickens they came from.

  Roxy looks over at us, giving us a saucy grin. “So how did you two sleep?”

  “Everyone seems to be asking that,” I say, reaching over and hanging an arm around Mindy. “We slept great.”

  “Like a baby,” Mindy agrees, letting my hand stay for a bit.

  Roxy looks disappointed. “I didn’t hear screams and whips at all. Major letdown, you two. Get with the program.”

  “We’re not here f
or entertainment,” Mindy grumbles, rolling her eyes and taking my hand off her shoulder.

  Silence falls over everyone for a few minutes as breakfast is eaten, and I must admit that whoever Mary Jo has cooking for everyone has skills. Roast duck is easy. Good grits are hard.

  As Roxy scrapes the last of her insisted on granola out of her bowl and crunches down, Mary Jo rises to her feet and claps her hands together. “Enough dilly-dallying. There’s so much to do and not enough time to get it done. We’ve got to get flower girl gowns, and there are decorations and dealing with the caterer . . .”

  Roxy sticks her hand up, sort of, interrupting her mother. “Mom, I think it would be better for everyone if we worked in groups. Keep you sane.”

  Mary Jo brightens. “That’s actually a great idea, Roxy.”

  Roxy sticks her tongue out at Mindy. “You’re not always the pet!”

  “Girl, please,” Mindy says, waving her away. “I’ll go with you, Roxy. Keep you out of trouble.”

  “And I’ll go with them,” Ivy Jo adds. “Keep these old bones youthful.”

  Mary Jo looks like she’s about to protest but relents with a nod. “Well then, can you three deal with the dresses? Rita and Layla, come with me to get the decorations.”

  “And Oliver can come with me for a ride through town,” John says. “I want to show him a few things and get his opinion on some others.”

  Mary Jo claps her hands together, pleased. “Okay. That sounds great. Be back here by one for lunch.”

  As everyone is getting up from their chairs, I pull Mindy in close. “Bye, Princess,” I tell her, giving her a kiss on the lips. This time, she isn’t as shocked, and I’m surprised when she kisses me back quickly.

  “Goodbye, handsome,” she tells me, giving me a cute little smile that stops me in my tracks for a moment. I think I’m having just a little too much fun with this roleplay. “See you in a bit.”

  I get up, and John and I make it outside and jump into his classic Mustang convertible, cherry red, of course, and we head into town. The engine purrs as we cruise, and I have to admit, it’s a great car.

  “That Mindy is quite a handful,” John says as he drives, the top down and just the engine providing background noise. “Just a more grown-up version of her younger sister. But what I love about them most is that mischievous sparkle in their eyes. They’re always ready to hit you with a joke that will have a grown man giggling.”

  I chuckle. “I can't argue with that. You’d be surprised how often she knocks me on my heels.”

  “Do you love her?” John asks me directly as we pull up to a stop sign. “No offense, but I’m about to be her stepfather. I’d like to know she’s going to marry a man who will love her, not just be a good match.”

  I hesitate. Love is such a strong word. I know I’m supposed to be pretending to be in love, but to actually answer a direct question, I feel uneasy. But I can’t help but answer with what he wants.

  “Yes,” I say. “Heaven and stars above, I love her very much.”

  John studies me for a moment, then nods. “Good. Then don’t ever let her go. Girls like her only come around once in a lifetime. So to hell with the rules. You make sure you hold her, please her, and give her everything she desires.”

  “Desires,” I muse as John pulls away. Desires indeed.

  Hopefully, she gives in to that desire sooner rather than later. Another night of her dressed in that nightgown and I’m going to have a serious case of blue balls.

  “Oliver?” John asks. “Did you hear me?”

  “Hmmm?” I reply, glancing over at John. “Yeah. I was just thinking how stupid rules can be, and that you’re right. Mindy deserves her wildest dreams.”

  “Good,” John says, turning his attention back to driving. I look out the car window again, not really watching as the greenery rolls by. I’m thinking about Mindy. And rules. The only thing separating me from her is a flimsy barrier of rules she’s put up between us.

  And if I want to get the rules to change . . . I need to change the game.

  Mindy

  As Roxy and I ride with Grandma, I know I’m in big trouble. I can't stop thinking about the way he kissed me.

  The way that his hands felt on my waist, and the way his thumb brushed over my cheek when our lips parted. It’s fake, but it felt so real. I can still count on one hand the number of times he’s kissed me. The scary part is that each one is getting better than the last. The really scary part is that I’m looking forward to the next one more and more.

  It’s more than the way he uses his lips or the way his body feels pressed against me. It’s the look in his eyes. There is real desire there, and something else too. Something that scares me.

  But last night was a real test of faith. I think I deserve entry to the gates of heaven because I’m a goddamn saint for resisting him. Call the Pope or something, because I felt like Eve, and Oliver’s big fucking dick was the forbidden fruit. I didn’t partake, so now I need to be rewarded.

  “Yoo-hoo! Earth to Mindy!” Roxy says, waving her hand in my face.

  I’m snapped back to attention. Roxy’s driving us down the road in her white convertible with the sun roof down. The wind ruffles through our hair, and the weather is amazing. You couldn’t ask for a better day, really. With clear blue skies and the sun warming our skin, everything is just right. Off in the distance, I can see the deep blue ocean. This place is nothing but beautiful. If I had to name a place to live, I think I would love to live here.

  “Yeah?” I ask, setting aside my thoughts about Oliver and the creeping fantasy I have of him and me and this place. “What?”

  Roxy grins, raising her voice to talk over the wind. “You look like you’re in another world. Was the sex that good?”

  I scowl at Roxy. “You do realize your grandma’s in the back seat, right?”

  “Are you serious?” Roxy asks, glancing in the rearview mirror. “She says and hears things far worse than that, ain’t that right, Grandma?”

  In the back, my annoyance grows as Grandma cackles. “Honey, I might be old, but I ain't dead. I’ve had more than my fair share of rides in the rodeo back in the day and put more than my fair share of cowboys away wet at night.”

  “See?” Roxy says as I wish I could just crawl into a hole and die. And Brianna thinks I’m forward? “Hell, I’d have her twerking on ladies’ night at Trixie’s if I could.”

  “Don’t you dare,” I say, feeling like the most mature person in the vehicle. “You’re not about to have my Maw-Maw down there looking like some geriatric Nikki Minaj.”

  Roxy laughs, and silence reigns for a moment. “So, how have you been?” I ask Roxy seriously. “I haven’t gotten a moment alone with you since we got here. You doing okay?”

  “I’ve been good,” Roxy says, giving me a smirk and a shrug. “But Mom’s been giving me hell for taking a year off college to pursue singing. What else is new? She doesn’t approve of anything I do unless it’s something she wants.”

  Her words resonate with me. Aren’t I pulling this whole charade to please my mother? I’m making an ass of myself in front of my family just so I can appear to have found a man. “It’s just her way,” I say.

  We make it to the dress shop. It’s a small little place in a strip mall between a karate studio and an eyeglass shop. I’m not sure at first, but when Roxy leads me inside, I see that everything’s high-end. “This looks expensive as hell. I’d feel like I was slumming it in a Vera Wang,” I say. “Jesus, this thing costs more than what I make in two months.”

  “Good thing I have John's credit card then,” Roxy says with a chuckle, patting her hip pocket.

  “What do you think of that?” I ask.

  “What do I think of what?” Roxy asks as Grandma settles into one of the well-padded chairs and hums to herself.

  “Of Mom marrying him?” I ask.

  I know the conversation I had with Mom, but I want Roxy’s opinion too. She bites her lower lip for a second as she thinks
before answering. “He seems like a really sweet man. At first, I didn't think that they made a good match. He's laid-back, and as you know, Mom can be pretty . . . high-strung. But for the most part, they've meshed pretty well. And despite all the bullshit, Mom’s really the same inside.”

  “That's good. As long as she's happy,” I say as I finger a tight little party dress. It’d look great on me, and I can just imagine myself dancing with Oliver . . . wait, what the hell?

  “That's always what's most important,” Grandma says as I quickly let the dress go. Now is not the time to think about Oliver. “Because if you ain't happy, everything and everyone around you will be miserable.”

  Roxie lets out a snort. “I know that's right. Preach, Granny Goose! You’re on a roll today!”

  “And if the shoe doesn't fit, don't wear the stinky thing,” Grandma says, egged on by Roxy. “Cast it out!”

  Roxy laughs as the salesperson comes over, looking like someone cut a fart in church. “May I help you?”

  “Yes, we’re here to pick up some dresses,” Roxy says. “The name is Wentworth?”

  At the mention of John’s name, the bitch face disappears and a giant smile comes out. “Of course! I’ll have them out in a second.”

  It’s not quite a second, but they’re back in a jiffy. They’re certainly high-end. I seriously doubt any flower girls in history have worn dresses quite this level before.

  “These are cute,” Roxy says. “These would be great for your wedding too, Mindy!”

  I want to have enthusiasm, but It’s hard to even think about. There won’t be any marriage. At least, not with Oliver. “Yeah, that would be cool.”

  “What’s the matter?” she asks, noticing my tone. “You don’t seem too excited. Aren’t you looking forward to your wedding? You two just seem so perfect for each other.”

  Looking at my sister’s encouraging smile, I feel like a fucking fraud. I should have known this fake-marriage thing wouldn’t be so casual. I catch Grandma looking at me. She tears her eyes away when I see, but in that instant, I’m reminded that Grandma has been around for a long time. She’s raised two daughters and a son, buried a husband and her son, and the whole time has been smart as a whip. She sees things other people don’t. I need to be careful.