Shetani's Sister by Iceberg Slim Read Free Book Online Page A

willing to reward you to the limit of my purse for a few minutes in bed with you.”
    He felt in control. He remembered that his pitch had conned dozens of hookers into Sybil Brand jail. He knew it was entrapment. So what? he had thought. His conviction rate was very high. Now he felt that his pitch, and her likely Big Apple contempt for hick West Coast cops, would block out her caution. It was a fact that the shark vice cops in the Apple had not busted Petra in more than two years.
    “Chaim, I may be too expensive,” she said as she leaned to finger-stroke one of his nipples through his shirt.
    “How much, Skye?” he asked, with his head cocked to the side like a child.
    “A C-note for a short-time half-and-half, Chaim,” she sang as her fingers stroked his rising enemy through his trousers.
    He slapped away her hand, and she recoiled with mouth agape. She was doubly shocked to see triumph transform his face. She jerked her head toward the door beside her as he clicked it locked from his door.
    “You’re under arrest for violation of Code 647b,” he said in his normal voice. He keyed on the engine. He looked into the rearview mirror for the chance to pull the wagon into the flow of traffic.
    Petra stared at him. She was stunned, and then she was desperate to free herself. It wasn’t the bail. She had more than enough for that in her bosom. It was the spirit of her master, Shetani, that seemed to invade the wagon and her head that prodded her to beat the bust.
    Crane eased the wagon into traffic. She remembered her master’s compliments for her long street roll with no arrests. And he had thrilled her soul and nourished her hooker heart when he trusted her to scout L.A. No, she told herself, she couldn’t let this cop, who she felt strongly was just a trick with a badge, bust her. And, she reminded herself, she was main bitch in a sixteen-girl stable. She wouldn’t hold still for this bust, like some rookie hooker from Podunk Nowhere.
    She could cry angry tears at will when she thought about her socialite mother, dead for a decade. She wept and drew herself into a fetal ball, with her dress hiked up to her waist. Her alabaster ass, scarcely covered by red bikini panties, shone for Crane.
    He eyeballed it at a red light. His enemy throbbed and hardened on the green. “You goddamn cunt! Stop that crying!” he shouted as he violently jerked her dress down to cover the oval seducer. He shot the wagon away toward the station.
    “This is unfair!…I’m not really a whore. I’ve never tried this before. Please, let me go!” she blubbered.
    He laughed. “You mean I’m the first man you’ve propositioned?” She nodded. “You’re a damn liar. I saw an old guy pick you up in front of the drugstore on Sunset.”
    She half turned her face toward him. “Forgive me. I honestly forgot him…He was broke. If you knew why I’m out here, you would let me go.”
    He snickered. “You’re out here to keep your pimp’s foot out of your ass.”
    She sat up and blotted tears with tissues from her purse. She shook her head vigorously as her mind raced to structure sure-shot con. He had driven to within five blocks of the station. “Please, don’t take me to the station. Please, pull over to hear how I was forced into the street,” she begged, her soulful eyes beaming into his for a moment.
    He turned his head and stared straight ahead. His face was hard as he pressed down on the accelerator. “I don’t want to hear your crap.”
    She moved across the seat to press herself against him. “Please! Give me just a couple of minutes.”
    “Don’t touch me, bitch!” he said coldly as he jabbed an elbow into her side.
    She moved away and spewed tears again. He jerked the steering wheel toward the curb and parked, with the wagon’s engine running. His fingertips drummed the steering wheel. “Spill it fast.”
    She cleared her throat. “I’ve got a kid brother on dialysis back in Syracuse, my hometown. He’s in line