Page 6 of Forgotten Deeds

Stepping outside, I’m headed to my car, but stop short. On my windshield is a bouquet of pink lilies. Hands trembling, I grab the flowers, searching in vain for a card. I climb into my car, tossing the bouquet on the passenger seat. My stomach is in absolute knots wondering who’s fucking with me about my identity. Unless it’s just a coincidence? Or maybe those got placed on the wrong car. I’m sure that’s it.

Driving home, I try to shake off the craziness of this night. Darius dropping ten grand so we could eat dinner together tops that crazy list, I think with a smile. But that smile is short-lived when I remember I’m not walking away with a penny of that money. I let the tears fall, allowing myself to ugly cry it all out before pulling into the driveway.

Quietly unlocking the front door, I step inside my house to find the babysitter asleep on the couch. “Hey,” I whisper, nudging her.

“Oh, hey, Lily,” she says, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Didn’t mean to nod off.” The babysitter thinks I work odd hours at a bar, which isn’t an outright lie—there is a bar inside my club.

“No problem,” I say, handing her cash for the evening. “How was Iris?”

“Good. She finished her movie, and then we read some books. She cried a little at bedtime, but she finally went to sleep.”

Hearing my daughter struggled without me at bedtime is like a stab of guilt right to the heart. I hate leaving her on the nights I work, but Darius was right—dancing is just a springboard to bigger and better things for me and my daughter. “Did Iris give you any trouble with the ear drops?”

“Nope. But I did have to bribe her with ice cream.”

“That’s fine. Thanks again, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Locking up behind her, I tiptoe to Iris’ room and quietly open the door. I walk over to her bed, adjusting the covers and moving a few wisps of light blonde hair out of my little girl’s face. I don’t want to kiss her with the grime of the club still on me, so I silently back out of her room and close the door.

Returning to the kitchen, I have every intention of tossing the flowers, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I fill up a vase with water and arrange the beautiful lilies, sitting them down on the kitchen table.

A car alarm sounds in the distance, and I flip off the lights and hurry to the window. Newark has the dubious reputation of being the car theft capital of the world, and I’m praying mine didn’t just add to the statistic. Peeking outside, I sigh in relief; my car is right where I left it.

Making my way to the bathroom, I let the shower heat up before stripping and climbing in. Giving myself a good scrubbing, my mind goes back to the VIP room. God, I cannot believe I fell asleep with—as Chrissy called him—“that scary motherfucker.” I was up the night before dealing with Iris’ ear infection and trip to the emergency children’s clinic, but men at the club don’t want to know any of that. They just want the “fantasy woman” experience. Most men, anyway. I’m still trying to figure out what it is Darius wants.

Good girl. Those two little words sound in my mind.

“Well, stop it,” I chastise myself.

Stepping out of the shower, I dry off before putting on a pair of panties and tank top. Giving my teeth a quick brush, I’m beyond exhausted as I climb into bed. Except I can’t stop replaying the events of the evening. Tossing and turning, I eventually give up.

Marching to my closet, I grab the box on the highest shelf that houses my vibrator. I’m amped up from the club, and I need to unwind. It has nothing to do with Darius or his good girls, I lie to myself as I lay back down. Sliding my panties off, I turn on my toy and place it around my clit, using my free hand to lightly massage my breast through my shirt.

No, it has nothing at all to do with Darius and his big hand running through my hair. Or the gravely tone of his voice. Or the way he looked like he was going to devour me just like his devil tattoo, and maybe I wouldn’t even have minded being eaten alive.

I imagine Darius spreading me out on the VIP room couch…

My fishnet dress is now bunched up around my waist, and he rips off my thong with his teeth.

He says something filthy-sounding in Italian—no, Greek—leaning his head down and swiping his tongue along my seam. I moan, holding onto his surprising soft curly black hair, and he growls against my clit. “Good girl.”

Fuck, I’m wet. So damn wet. I turn the vibrator up to full speed.

His big hands spread my thighs open wider, flashing that naughty grin of his before he absolutely devours my pussy.

Gyrating my hips, I moan when I find the right spot; Darius’ deep and dangerous voice the soundtrack to this little fantasy.

* * *

Darius

I have too many enemies to be caught with my pants around my ankles—that’s the only reason I haven’t pulled my dick out and jerked off to the hottest show in the world. Lily should really add curtains to her bedroom window, not that I’m complaining.

My face plastered to the window, I watch through a small opening in the askew blinds as she moves a pink wand around her pretty clit. I stifle a groan as her legs fall open—she must have found a spot she likes. Fuck, I wish I could hear her throaty little moans of pleasure.

Arching off the bed, Lily closes her eyes as she continues to run the vibrator over her clit. “Move it inside that sweet little pussy,” I instruct her quietly, even though she can’t hear me.

Her mouth falls open in a perfect O as she pushes the vibrator inside her.

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