Sugar Sweet

Someone needed their dick shot off and it was my job to do it. She was as sultry as she was poison, dripping sweet in front of me, after her gig on the stage. Sugar was her name, and she spent most of the song laboring on her knees, any imperfections on her body hidden by the soft red lighting of her act. It wasn’t ‘til she took to the pole that I could see the damage. There, just above her bikini line, was the ugly slash, the result of a gunfight she lost. Jealous lovers kept my wallet thick, but this went above the norm.

She wrapped her flesh in a satin robe and slid on my lap, her sultry lips dangling dangerously close to mine. She stole the fedora from my head and put it on her own, sliding the front down seductively over her eyes. Her fingers running through my thinning mane sent shivers down my spine. I couldn’t help but run my own fingers up her silky thigh, my thumb ending a whisper away from her ample bosom as I removed her neatly from my lap, anxious to hide my growing desire.

“So, will you help me?” She purred, reaching out gracefully to steal the cigarette I’d just lit. She’d owe me, but it wasn’t cash I wanted.

“For you, I will. Do you have his picture?” The half-smile that appeared on her face as she slid the upside-down photo across the table almost undid me. My hands betrayed me, yearning to feel her roundness within them.

“Don’t kill him. Just shoot his dick off. Let him live in misery for the rest of his life,” she growled. Her venom took me by surprise, though it shouldn’t have. I had a thing for the femme fatale. I had no doubt it would kill me someday. I had to end this before I lost control.

“Oh, sweets, you play a tough game. Don’t contact me again. I’ll contact you.” I rose from my chair, grabbed my fedora from her head, and turned for the exit. Before I could get my coat on, I felt her pressing up against my back, her sweet lips cupping my ear.

“I’m looking forward to it,” her hot breath filled my ear, her words creating goose bumps across my flesh. Breathless, I watched her retreat, realizing with sudden clarity that I would never lay eyes on her again.

Her job would be my last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This week’s Red Writing Hood prompt from the creative geniuses behind Write on Edge is the picture shared above. We had 450 words at our disposal.

This week’s 3 Word Wednesday prompts are: Dangle, Labor, Neatly. I used a form of all 3 in my story above.

I welcome and appreciate your feedback. I’m taking on some noir in this story, a new writing style (for me) that I am coming to enjoy. What do you think? Could it improve? Share your thoughts in a comment and help me grow as a writer!

Thanks for stopping in. Don’t forget to click the America’s Next Author button on my sidebar and vote, share using the social icons below the voting button, read, rate, and review. All count towards my ranking.

breathlesslyThe Free Dictionary: Breathing with difficulty; gasping: was breathless from running. →