This story can only be found bundled with the Erotic Novella “Sweetest Revenge”
“You’re not so damn tough and probably not so bright either, big man.”
The woman looked directly at him when she said it. Her voice. It was the voice of a color: deep, dark red. Fiery, suggestive, and full of passionate promises. Her voice, rich-toned and throaty, was the first thing he noticed about her and the thing he would always remember about her. Her voice of sexy, crimson hymns.
He knew the moment his eyes saw the woman that trouble would soon be on his doorstep. She was handcuffed, metal confining her wrists behind her back, silhouetted against a high white wall. The guys from Hopewell Corrections Center were trying to figure out how she had managed to escape from her cell for three days before a traffic cop spotted her coming out of a fast-food joint. She never told how she did it. Now she was being admitted to Newton psychiatric facility for observation. Her behavior was deemed erratic at the time of her capture. He couldn’t see it. She seemed calm and serene as she stood in custody. But it was what happened in the elevator going up to Processing that twisted his mind out of joint and started his obsession with her. With guards flanking her, she stood in front of him, her hands behind her, touching and caressing his genitals. Stroking him until his legs were almost buckling by the time the ancient elevator reached the seventh floor. She was something else, not your usual brand of woman.
“Don’t forget me,” she whispered to him as they led her away down the dimly lit corridor to the front desk.
And he didn’t forget her. He was totally fixated on her. Being a guard at the facility meant he often saw her on the grounds, in the hall, or in the cafeteria. There were always people around her, usually men, laughing and talking loudly, so he had no access to this woman who was slowly driving him mad. He watched her eat, how her mouth with its large soft lips worked, how her long tongue flicked at its corners. He watched her walk, the smooth rolling of her wide hips, the inviting space between her thighs as she moved seductively among the other inmates. Once, going up the stairs before him, she stopped, backed into him, and did a quick bending twist of her ass into his crotch. Oh, he was hooked. Totally and completely. Yet another black man bamboozled by lust and a hard dick.
“Don’t forget me, sweetheart,” she whispered to him again. An orderly, carrying a tray of meds, interrupted their chance meeting, standing watch until the couple exited the stairwell and went their separate ways. No fraternizing between staff and patients.
He never asked anyone her name. He wanted to hear it first spoken from her very own lips. In that dark red voice. The day before he tossed his life away because of lust, a vivid imagination, and a stiff libido was the first time they really talked. They squeezed into a supply room among shelves laden with towels, gowns, rubber gloves, and canisters of liquid soap. The woman was pressed close to him, too close for comfort, and notions of taking her right there flooded his mind. With her young, gorgeous, Lena Horne-looking self. The post-Cotton Club Lena, in full bloom. But everything had to be right. Exactly like he pictured it over and over every night as he lay in bed and touched himself. Her and her dark red voice.
“I see you watching me, every day, all day,” she said, her eyes locked on his. “You don’t have to say what you want. I know what you want because I want it too. But everything comes with a price. Nothing is for free, not in this world.”
“I hear that,” he replied, thrusting one hand into a pocket to subdue his growing excitement. “What is your name?”
“You know it. Don’t play dumb. I hate an ignorant man.” She stepped back some.
“I really don’t know it. I didn’t ask. I wanted to hear it from you.” That made her smile, the full soft lips parting like lush rose petals.
“Amina. What’s yours, Mister Man?”
“Terrance Stokes. My friends call me Terry. What is it you want? What is the price?”
He moved back within kissing range, so close to her that she could feel the heat of his flesh through his cheap uniform.
“I want out,” she hissed at him, the colored heat sparking in her words. “You get me out and you can have me any way you want. Nothing is too kinky, too freaky. Anything you want but you must get me out first. Once I’m back in the world, baby, I’m yours to do with as you please. How does that sound?”
“Hey, I’m no fool,” he said, afraid to admit to himself that he was even weighing such an offer. “How do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain? How? I’m risking everything here. My life will be fucked as soon as I break you out. It’ll be over.”
Amina laughed softly, the sound of it much like the tinkling of piano keys. She reached down, unzipped her hospital-issue pants, and inserted her fingers into herself. That got her squirming a bit and she coated her digits with her juice, laughed again, and brought them to his lips. Tart yet sweet, like the taste of an exotic fruit from a tropical island untamed.
She knew how to close a deal, playing on his dissatisfaction with his job and life, putting a spotlight on the collection of failures and disappointments that had hounded him from the very day he graduated from high school. He was a loser. But this would change things. It was a chance to tell the whole world to kiss his black ass. The entire planet, all the doubters and badmouthers. Now he was calling the shots in his life for once.
Everybody would know his name, if only for a hot moment. His fifteen minutes of fame, coming right up.
Busting her out was not that hard. All it took was a few Benjamins for the guys at the main gate, some more for the crew on the supply truck, several lies and even more for the cat with the small plane to take them to the Texas border. The pilot, with his tiny Cessna eggbeater that shook and fluttered with every breeze, was spooky with his endless talk of the ancient Aztecs and their knack for human sacrifices. Terry didn’t want to hear that mess.