by Fiona Zedde
“Hello, ladies.” She moved from behind the chair. “Dez Nichols.”
Victoria had some very sexy friends. Dez stopped her mind from going where it normally went when presented with a vision like this one. Or at least she tried to stop it.
Victoria brought up the rear. “Dez, this is Kavindra.”
“Kavi is fine.” The slim, sloe-eyed one with skin like creamed cocoa held out a hand and a smile. She seemed pleased by what she saw. Her heavy, waist-length hair slid forward into her eyes as she nodded to Dez. “Good to finally meet you. I’ve met your brother a few times.”
“My brother and his good fortune strike again. I’d never been jealous of him before now.” Behind Kavi, Victoria rolled her eyes and smiled as if she were used to people making fools of themselves over her beautiful friend.
“This is her girlfriend, Michelle—um Mick.” Victoria nodded at the seal-sleek woman with a proprietary hand on the small of Kavi’s back. Her bald head gleamed under the light, matching the warning look she lasered at Dez.
The two women shook hands and Dez tried not to wince at the crushing grip. “And Abena.” The amazon bypassed the hand Dez held out to enfold her in a sandalwood scented embrace. Her wavy dreads, held up and back with a thick band of cowrie shells, swirled briefly around them before she straightened, settling the thick mass against her hips and thighs. “You’re just a little piece of gorgeous, aren’t you?”
To this woman, anybody six feet and under was “little.” Dez had to look up at least three inches to meet her eyes. “A pleasure,” she murmured, stepping out of the clinging arms.
“Everybody hungry?” Victoria asked, still smiling.
“Yeah, girl. I know whatever you cook is going to be good.” Abena squeezed Dez’s shoulder. “One thing about our Tori, she sure can throw down in the kitchen.”
“True, true.” Kavi aimed her welcoming smile at Dez. “If things go well, that’s only one of her pleasures you’ll be sampling soon.”
“Kavi!”
“What? I’m not the one who came to the door with lipstick sucked off my face and looking like I need a cold shower.”
Dez passed a surreptitious hand across her mouth to wipe away any lingering traces of Victoria’s color. The other women laughed at their friend even as they offered to help her out in the kitchen. In the end it was Abena and Victoria who set out the meal, walking between the living room and the kitchen and speaking in low, laughing voices while Kavi lit the fireplace.
“Tori tells us that you just got back into town.” Mick looked up from pouring wine in each glass. “How long were you gone?”
“Just a couple of years. I was traveling with a friend for a while.”
“A woman friend or just a friend?”
“Mick, stop being invasive.” Kavi spoke from her crouch in front of the dimly flickering logs.
“Well, we have to know how available she is. If you’re still pining over some ex-piece, you might as well leave here now because Tori doesn’t need any of that bullshit.”
“I guess you’d be the welcoming committee?” Dez arched an eyebrow at Mick, not bothering to hide her smile. “Don’t worry about it. Victoria can get into whatever she wants with me. From my position she looks like a grown woman. Those types tend to make their own decisions.”
The bald woman made a dismissive noise and walked off with the empty wine bottle toward the kitchen.
“Don’t mind her, she’s just very protective of Tori,” Kavi said. “We all are.”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?”
The fire leapt lively and bright behind the grate after Kavi was done with it. She excused herself to go wash her hands, then came back and took a seat at the table. Dez sat in the chair next to hers. She’d rather look at this lovely specimen than Mick’s hostile puss any day. The bald woman walked from the kitchen and stopped short, shooting Dez a poisonous look when she saw where she was sitting. But Mick didn’t say anything.
“You know I never did see the point of fireplaces this far south,” Dez said, turning to Kavi.
“For the romance, of course. To make your lover feel special,” Mick supplied helpfully. “Or do you just always fuck and run?”
Victoria and Abena came with the rest of the food, then stopped when they saw the looks on the other women’s faces.
“What happened? Did we miss something?” Abena carefully placed her covered platter on the sideboard.
“Not a thing,” Dez said. “We were just discussing different techniques of lovemaking.”
Victoria knew better than to ask.
Kavi cleared her throat. “Is everything ready?” she asked. “Yes, just help yourselves. Everything is right here, including condiments if you need them.”
“I doubt we’ll need anything.” Abena already had a plate in hand as she turned to Dez. “Just sit your pretty little behind down and tell me what you need. I’ll get it for you.”
In short order Abena had a bowl of soup in front of Dez. She didn’t wait to taste it. The butternut squash soup glowed a pretty golden yellow with flecks of black pepper floating on its surface. It melted over her tongue, setting her taste buds alight with its subtle burn of ginger.
“You’re right, Abena. Ms. Jackson is a fantastic chef.” The brew was thick, just like she liked her soup and some of her women. She spooned another cube of squash in her mouth and almost groaned as it dissolved in her mouth’s heat. Even the temperature of the soup was perfect. “If the rest of the meal is like this, you won’t be able to get rid of me.” She looked at Mick. The woman didn’t seem too happy with that statement.
“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in days. Don’t your one-night stands feed you the morning after?”
“Usually I don’t stay long enough to eat . . . food.” She lifted her spoon to Victoria. “Thanks for inviting me over.”
“Anytime.”
Dez smiled. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
She could tell the other women were growing restless with her not-so-subtle flirting. Dez forced herself to turn away from that charming blush. “So, Abena, do you cook, too?”
Despite the tall woman’s knowing look, she responded in kind with a detailed list of all her misadventures in the kitchen, most of which Victoria had had to rescue her from. From the stories, Dez learned that Abena was charming and funny, a shameless flirt who’d been with her lover for almost nine years.
“He hates it when I call him my ‘lover,’ but who else but someone who actually loves me can take what I dish out in the kitchen?” Abena said. “And speaking of love, this here is the best woman in the universe, you understand.” She stared at Dez. “Treat her well.”
“I will, if she gives me the chance to.”
The second course was apparently Kavi’s favorite. When Abena came back with her plate loaded down with the fine Mediterranean couscous topped with the Spanish-style garlic shrimp simmered in red pepper flakes and olive oil, Kavi jumped up from whatever conversation she and Mick were having and took off for the food. Dez watched her as she ate voraciously, barely touching the token amount of roasted winter vegetables—broccoli, carrots, and red peppers—she had virtuously put on her plate. Dez caught Mick’s warning look. Did this woman think that she was trying to steal her girlfriend from right under her nose? She was more subtle than that. Besides, she had her eye on more interesting things. Behind the steam rising from her plate, Victoria’s face was a sensual dream of red lips and curved throat. Her fingers accidentally dipped into the sauce on her plate and she licked at them, nibbling delicately at the few grains of couscous that stuck to her knuckles. Then she laughed at something Abena said and Dez felt her own mouth curve in response. This woman could easily get her in trouble.
“Are you just waiting on someone to serve you?” Mick asked. “Because that’s not going to happen.”
This bitch will not ease up off me. Dez forced herself to smile at Mick. “I guess that means you’re not going to get me a little s
omething for my parched throat then, either?” Both her wine and water glasses were still full. She could feel the other woman’s eyes on her back as she stood up to fix her own plate.
As she sat down, Victoria tapped a fork against her wineglass to get everyone’s attention. She had it almost immediately. “I want to thank everyone for coming here tonight. For some it was incredibly short notice.” She smiled at her friends. “And for others it was somewhat of a surprise.” Her lashes fluttered down to shield her eyes as she looked at Dez, then away. “So, again, thank you for coming to my home and for staying even though this get-together was just another excuse for me to cook.” She lifted her wineglass. “So for this, I raise my glass to you, old friends and new.”
They all dutifully raised their glasses and drank, although not everyone was happy with the reason for the toast.
“To piggyback on that”—the women looked at Mick as she lightly tapped her own glass—“let’s also toast to discernment in our choice of friends. May we always know how to tell the good from the bad.”
The women looked uneasy, but Dez put her glass down, not bothering to glance in the bald woman’s direction.
Kavi cleared her throat and turned on a smile. “So Dez, how come we haven’t seen you around town? I bump into Derrick at some function or another at least twice a month.” The long-haired woman lifted a forkful of couscous and shrimp to her mouth.
“My brother and I don’t run in the same circles.”
“So does that mean you’re slumming tonight?”
“Something like that.” She smiled pleasantly at Mick before tasting her food for the first time. It was good. Very good. But the company was beginning to ruin her appetite.
“Stop it, Mick. Don’t scare her off. Tori likes her,” Abena scolded gently from Victoria’s side.
“Yes, please. There’s no reason to be rude to my guest.” At least not yet. The collective thought hovered around the table but remained unsaid. Dez admired Mick’s self-restraint. To make up for the bald woman’s hostility, the other women made nice with Dez, joking about what Derrick told each of them about her and applauding her good taste in asking Victoria out.
“To be honest, my brother is the one with the good taste. If they weren’t friends, I probably would have never met her.” She looked over at Victoria. “That reminds me, do you all go out in town or is this just strictly potlucks and house parties?”
“Sometimes we go out, but we generally stay away from the party scene. Mick has a lot of girl parties at her house on South Beach. When we’re not hanging out there, we’re at home.”
“That explains why after a month of being back I’m already seeing the same faces over and over again in the bars and clubs in the city. You ladies should come out. The place needs some new blood.”
“For you to feed off of?”
“If you like.” She aimed her teeth at Mick again.
Kavi rolled her eyes. “I know you’re probably wondering why my darling here”—she lightly pinched the arm resting near hers on the table—“seems to have it in for you.”
“The thought had crossed my mind, but I didn’t think it was important enough to ask.”
“No, Kavi, don’t tell her. That’s embarrassing.” Abena looked at her friend.
“I think what’s going on here is embarrassing,” Kavi said.
“This woman is trying to take Tori out. Haven’t we all been saying Tori needs to go out with a woman with sex on her mind. Well, if everything we’ve heard about Dez is true, she very definitely has sex on her mind.” She glanced at Dez in quick apology.
Dez shrugged to say that it was nothing. Now she was curious where this was heading. Beside Kavi, Mick stiffened but said nothing.
“Years ago when Mick was still into the club scene, she met Dez. They had a one-night stand, or apparently Dez thought it was a one-night-only thing, and never called Mick after that.”
Dez swung her gaze to Mick. Really? She could see it. The woman was attractive, sleek, and flexible-looking. In the months before she and Ruben got together, she’d been voracious in her appetite for sex with women. Back then it had been three girls a day, sometimes scattered between meals, occasionally at the same time. She could imagine being drawn to Mick’s hardness in the flashing lights and smoky haze of a club, seeing her dancing, twisting, and shaking to the music and wanting to tame that energy beneath her. The memory abruptly came back to her. Dez’s brow lifted.
“You don’t even remember me, do you?” Mick’s voice was a hard challenge.
“Actually, I just did.” Dez rolled her shoulders under the weight of their collective stare. “I never said I would call.”
Kavi suddenly looked uncomfortable. Her gaze skimmed over her lover to Dez.
“So is that how you plan on treating Tori?”
“I am still in the room, Mick.” Victoria said. “I didn’t have this dinner party for you to release your old anger at Dez. What happened between you is in the past. Let’s just leave it that way.” Still she glanced back at her friend, communicating a look of sympathy and support that even Dez could not miss. Seeing that, Dez suddenly had enough.
She leaned back in her seat. “This has been really interesting. I came here expecting to have a nice dinner with a beautiful woman and instead I end up in the middle of this . . .” she spread out her hands, not even knowing how to describe what she was now a part of. “I’m not sure what you all expected when you came here tonight, but I hope you got whatever it was.” She stood up. “I didn’t, so despite the fantastic meal, I have to go.”
With a quick nod, she retrieved her jacket from the hall closet and let herself out. In the driveway, she saw that two cars had (intentionally?) blocked her in. She shrugged on her jacket and swung her leg over the motorcycle. The grass would work just as well as the drive.
“Wait.”
Victoria ran down the front steps, quickly buttoning a long sweater coat over her thin blouse and skirt. Dez put the key into the ignition but did not turn it. Even in the dark she could see the jiggle of full breasts as Victoria rushed toward her.
“Listen, I’m really sorry about that.” She put a hand on the handlebars as if that alone could stop Dez from leaving. “Mick was out of line there.”
“Don’t you think you were a little out of line, too?” Dez adjusted her hips on the bike and crossed her arms. “If you knew your friend had an issue with me, then why invite her, or even me for that matter?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up into Dez’s expressionless face. “Can we just start over?”
“It depends on what you mean by that. I’m not going back in there.” She nodded toward the house. “Give me a call some other time if you want. If you don’t want, you don’t even have to tell Derrick that we saw each other.” Her eyes raked the voluptuous body again. And she released a silent sigh of regret. “I’ll see you around.”
Dez turned on the engine and Victoria’s hand fell away from the motorcycle as she slowly backed the bike away from the house. She stepped back as Dez pulled down the drive, slipping through the narrow space between somebody’s Honda SUV and a dark Mercedes sedan. Dez rode away but couldn’t stop herself from watching her brother’s best friend grow smaller and smaller in her rearview mirrors.
Chapter 13
“Fuck...” The steady ringing of her phone woke Dez from a sticky, erotic dream. In the dream, she spooned steaming butternut squash soup down Victoria Jackson’s back, watching the sensual mix of colors, her lover’s deep gold skin, the paler gold of the squash as they mingled and separated. Victoria didn’t seem to mind the heat of the soup at all. If anything, she moaned and wriggled beneath Dez, begging for more. The liquid gathered in the deep valley of her spine, trailed toward the thick mounds of her ass. Dez pressed her mouth against the shifting flesh, tasting the salty and robust flavor that was nothing but Victoria’s skin. She cupped the squirming ass in her hands and prepared to slide between the thick, responsive cheeks. Dez jol
ted awake when Victoria’s ass started ringing. She reached blindly for the phone.
“Hello?”
“Desiree?”
“Mom?”
“Come over and help me with the laundry.”
At three in the morning? “Okay. I’ll be right over.” Dez rolled over and turned on the light. She dressed quickly and stumbled to her truck, managing to get to her mother’s house, still only half-awake, without getting into a wreck.
The house looked dark from the outside. The sense of déjà vu shook the last of sleep from her brain. Instead of knocking, Dez used the key and deactivated the alarm from the panel by the door.
“Claudia?” She called louder. “Mama?”
“Up here, love.”
There were candles everywhere. They followed the winding thread of the staircase, dozens of tealights in tiny glass cups, glittering and dancing like phosphorescent ghosts. Dez followed the lights up the stairs and found her mother in the bedroom, where only a single white candle burned at her vanity table.
Dressed in a pair of worn, comfortable-looking pajamas, her mother knelt on the floor in the rubble of dirty clothes. The pajamas hung from her slight frame. The last time Dez saw Claudia she had seemed fashionably slim in her jeans and sweater, but today she just looked tired and too thin. Almost childlike.
“What are you doing, Mama?”
“Sorting laundry. Don’t ask silly questions, love. Put your things away and come down here on the floor and help me.”
Dez looked down at the backpack in her hands, grabbed at the last moment for who knew what reason. She dropped it on the bed and went to Claudia. They silently sorted through the clothes, putting whites with whites, jeans with everything else dark blue, linens with linens.
“Is everything all right?”
When Claudia only gently shook her head, Dez tried again. “What are all the candles for?”