Shetani's Sister by Iceberg Slim Read Free Book Online

from the drugstore and parked. He scooted over to the passenger side of the front seat. He put binoculars on the sidewalk in front of the drugstore. If she showed again, he’d pull into the store’s red-zone curb, as the john had done, to take a shot at her.
    After forty-five minutes, he gave up and combed Sunset to spot her.
    After 3:00 p.m., he nodded in passing to members of his squad’s first shift. He also dipped his head to several decoy policewomen, starting their shift, to bust johns who offered them money for sex.
    He had busted two young white hookers before twilight arrived. At this point, he usually snorted coke or went to the briefing room to let down or to catnap.
    He was out of coke and yet felt no fatigue. He was energized by his search for Petra. It was after 8:00 p.m., near Crescent Heights and Sunset, when he found her. Her waist-long mane was like white flame on the backdrop of night. Her short black dress squeezed her curves. Rhinestones on her red shoes showered sparkle like shooting stars as her exquisite gams balleted her down the boulevard.
    She surveyed car traffic with her peripheral vision and an almost imperceptible turn of her head.
    Crane, following her, was timing his moves so that they would arrive at the next street corner together. They did. He smiled and stared at her, john fashion. He turned past her into the side street to park. If she decided he looked like a customer, she would come to his car to size him up at close range.
    His pulse hammered when he saw her coming toward him. He told himself the lie that he was always this excited when he was about to spring a trap on his quarry. He leaned toward the open window on the passenger side.
    Satan’s slave stuck her radiant head into the wagon and electrified its interior with sex appeal. He was speechless for a moment. She filled the vacuum. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone I know that would give me a lift,” she said as she started to withdraw.
    He found his voice, Israeli-accented. “Say, wait! My name is Chaim. I’d be delighted to drop off such a beautiful lady like yourself.”
    She studied him for a long moment. He smiled inside. He thought that using the accent and giving the Hebrew form of “Herman” as his trick name to hookers helped to throw them off.
    It worked a bit. She smiled and got in. She was still not sure his pedigree was trick. She said in her soft contralto, “I’m Skye. Thank you so much, Chaim.” She noticed his Adam’s apple wobble when his eyes were snared by her sculpted thighs, exposed to a mere two inches from the bush that bulged her panties.
    He felt his penis stir and thicken. “Skye, I hope you won’t mind if I say a few words before I drop you off,” he said with a hot quaver.
    Instantly he regretted his loss of control, because he knew of the hooker paranoia about johns who got emotional up front. He thought of Rucker, his strong mentor, and regretted his weakness even more. He vowed to himself that if he trapped this heavenly body he’d bust her. He wouldn’t fuck her, as he had done in the past with girls who had wow appeal.
    He softened his gray eyes as she studied his face with a slight frown. He thought, would she decide he was an overacting cop or a high-risk rapist, a killer type?
    Primarily, Petra read voices rather than faces, which most street hookers were prone to do. She heard the heat in his voice as real. This, coupled with the Jewish image, relaxed her somewhat.
    “Say away, Chaim,” she said sweetly, with her New York accent.
    He almost whispered, “I’ve got a lovely wife at home, and I can’t complain about her as a lover…This is crazy!” He closed his eyes and pressed fingertips against his temples before he continued. “I saw you walking down that sidewalk like a Viking princess. Never have I been so excited. I guess, as the rabbi would say, my desire to go to bed with you overwhelmed my sense of morality. I’m not a rich man. But, Skye, I’m