A Taste of Sin Read Online Free PDF Page A

home.” She slid Victoria a look and a smile. “And I guess that was my cue to leave you to your lunch.” She stood. “By the way, if you ever want someone to treat you to lunch or . . . whatever, please give me a call.” Dez took a card from her wallet and put it in the hand that was already rising to meet hers. “See you both soon.”
    She picked up her lunch and left them to theirs.
     
    On the way home, her cell phone rang but she let it keep until she pulled into the garage and parked the bike. It was Sage.
    “What’s up? Didn’t get enough of me last night?”
    “You mixing me up with your whores again?”
    “No mix-up here, baby.” She pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she stripped off her gloves and, balancing her lunch in the crook of her elbow, walked through the double doors leading from the garage to the house. “What’s going on?”
    “There’s a little happening at our house tonight. Phil and I want you to come.”
    “Don’t you people ever work?” Dez dropped her lunch and gloves on the kitchen counter then opened the fridge. The breath of cool air from inside misted against her face, bringing with it the scent of the guavas she’d bought the day before.
    “Not if I can help it and I know you aren’t talking, you big lazy ass.”
    Another thing that had united the four girls in school besides the whole pussy-eating predilection was that none of them were poor.
    Dez’s mouth twitched with reluctant amusement as she poured herself a glass of rice milk. “What time?”
    “Ten. Or whenever you can make it.”
    “I’ll be there.” Dez hung up and lifted the glass to her mouth.
     
    The night of the party, Dez pressed past the surging bodies at Sage and Phil’s door, biting back her annoyance. It was well after midnight and the party was in full swing. There were women everywhere, most were well past the point of modesty. A foursome pressed itself into a corner, leaving a trail of clothes scattered on the floor. Breasts and buttocks heaved in the flickering light. Flashes of their open mouths, wet thighs, and hands lured her deeper into the house. But the sounds of sex on a nearby couch—rough, flesh-pounding, wet sex—brought her up short. This wasn’t exactly the kind of party she was expecting.
    Lines of coke ribboned the glass surface of the coffee table. Heads bobbed over the white streaks, sucking up the powdered pleasure, ignoring the naked and sweating bodies around them.
    “What the fuck is this?” she asked Sage when she saw her.
    “A party. What else?” Except for a pair of shiny boy’s-cut briefs, she was naked; her dark, tattooed flesh glowed with flecks of white powder.
    “Shit! I didn’t know it was going to be this kind of party.” She waved her hand at the bodies around her.
    “What, you don’t like pussy? Come on, have some blow. Shit, have a blow job. It’s all free tonight. Welcome back to town, baby!” Sage slapped her on the back and passed her a tumbler with the remnants of what smelled like scotch, before stumbling back the way she had come.
    Portishead played heavy and loud from the speakers, the perfect accompaniment to the distinct sounds of sex, of demand and release, of “come here” and “fuck me harder” drifting from different corners of the house. The music and the voices, the intoxicating smell of sex seeped into her as she stood watching it all. Her skin warmed with the beginnings of arousal. Why not? Dez’s eyes flickered around the room again. She shrugged out of her jacket and went to find some pleasure of her own.
     
    She found Rémi in the old basement playroom, knocking balls around a pool table. A few slumped bodies perked up as Dez walked down the stairs. She heard whispers, some she could make out, some she couldn’t.
    “Are you high, too?” Dez asked. Sage’s leftover scotch and the nonstop visual stimuli were starting to work their magic on her. She definitely felt more relaxed than when she first walked