Friday Flash Fiction: Damned Red Dress

Photo by Alex Voulgaris on Unsplash

She was exactly the sort of woman he went for. Her red dress hugged her enticing body.  He smirked, licking his lips in anticipation.

He stalked toward her, his eyes never leaving the curve of her neck. The low light from the bar made her cream skin shine like alabaster.

He had lost count of the number of women he had taken, leaving them ravaged at the end of the night.

If they contacted him afterward, addicted to the fix he provided, he would block them. They all got the message eventually.

He loosened his tie and smoothed his perfect hair.

“Excuse me,” he said to the red-clad woman as he brushed past her, making as if he needed to get to the bar.

She turned and met his eyes.

“Go ahead,” she said. “It’ll cost you, though.”

Excellent, he thought. She engaged, horny for sure. Maybe this won’t be as hard as I thought.

“What’ll it cost me?”

“Your soul, of course.” One corner of her mouth turned upward.

“The devil has it already.”

Her eyes widened. “In that case, it’ll cost you three wishes.”

He pretended to consider it. “You get two wishes from me, and I get one from you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re ballsy.”

“Final offer.”

“Deal.”

He shook her proffered hand, enjoying the liquid smoothness of her skin.

“I wish that you buy me a drink,” she said.

He nodded. “I accept.”

When they had their drinks, she continued. “Now I wish you to take off your tie and loosen your top buttons.”

He couldn’t help smiling. She wanted to rip him apart to satisfy her own cravings. He couldn’t wait.

“Done.” He did as she said, giving her a glimpse of his muscular chest and a few wisps of dark hair.

“My turn,” he continued.

Should I go for it? he thought. Hell, why not? All the signs are there. She wants it.

“I wish for you to come home with me,” he said.

She stepped backward and he thought he had screwed up. Then her eyes tore over him, sweeping from his feet to his face. She inhaled deeply.

“You got your wish,” she answered. “Let’s go.”

Once outside, she took his arm. Her hips brushed against him as she strutted. He relished the enamored gazes of passerby marveling at the eye candy at his side. 

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you to be careful what you wish for?” she asked, reaching up and brushing her lips against his ear.

He chuckled. “Of course she did. But I’m not afraid of what you’ll do to me.”

“Maybe you should be,” she answered, then grabbed his hand and placed it on her ass.

As she laughed, he swore he saw back teeth like daggers. He quickly dismissed the vision, blaming the quantity of liquor he had imbibed. Instead he squeezed her ass, feeling the curve of it through the clingy fabric of her red dress.