Wicked Sweet

you are the taste of something sweet

Victoria's heels clicked on the sidewalk as she made her way to the swap building. Passerby thought nothing of her, although the occasional mother clutched their child's hand just a bit tighter, increased their pace just a bit. Her short wavy hair and her just as short coat gave subtle hints as to where she might be going, somewhere proper ladies should not be on Thursday nights. And each time Victoria would just smile and hold her head just a bit higher.

Her feet finally stopped in front of the swap building, knocking once, twice, then pausing for three seconds before knocking the third time. During the day this building housed three floors of tables and booths. Those same mothers that passed Victoria on the street with those same children clutching their hands strolled between the tables, swapping out old winter coats for longer, warmer ones. Downtrodden teenage girls stand a pace behind their mothers as the high heels that they stashed in the back of their closets are swapped for much more sensible shoes.

But four nights out of the week, this building is Victoria's haven.

The door is answered by the usual man, a gentleman named Patrick whose burly muscles were hidden under a well tailored suit.

"Evening, Miss Hardcastle."

She's so well known here by now, a password isn't necessary. She steps past him, smiling and patting his shoulder.

"Evening Patrick."

She walks past the long tables, bare until the morning when the swappers return, and towards the basement steps. At home with her roommates, out on the street, Victoria is just another girl. She pushes the door to the basement open. The sound of glasses clinking, happy conversation, and laughter drifts up towards her.

Down here, Victoria is a goddess.

Rather than heading into the mix of drinking, flirting, and smoking, Victoria walks into a small sideroom. This room has a much more feminine touch. The walls are hung with the uniforms of the girls who work the floor and sell things like candy and cigarettes from the trays strapped to their fronts. The opposite side of the wall hosts several vanities filled with feminine odds and ends; perfume, bobby pins, photos stuck into the mirrors. Most girls will share vanities, but nobody touches Victoria's.

She seats herself at it, smiling at the cleanliness of it. It hosts only a small bottle of perfume that she only wears here, a handwritten note to herself in the mirror, and a single tube of lipstick. She shrugs her coat off, revealing the short, scandalously red dress underneath. She can hear the music begin to die down, hear the polite claps of the people, and grabs the lipstick, applying it carefully as she hears the sound of Nathaniel, Patrick's brother, speaking through the microphone onstage with the band.

"And now, ladies and gentleman, for your listening and visual pleasure this evening, allow me to introduce Miss Ruby!"

Victoria sets aside the lipstick, her namesake, and waltzes out of the room and up onto the stage. Plenty of wolf whistles and and lewd suggestions are thrown at her, but she simply smiles and takes her place in front of the microphone, turning her head elegantly over her shoulder to tell the band what to play.

And then she starts to sing.

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Across the room, a young man in a dark green blazer and a wheat colored bowler is utterly entranced by the beautiful young woman on stage. Her voice...where could he begin? Angels singing, exotic birds crooning, nymph laughter...all that wrapped into one. Her voice didn't belong in a location like this. It belonged on a record, in the homes and ears of everyone in the world.

And her looks. The dress was loose, but still managed to show off a seductive set of curves depending on the way she moved. Her lips matched her name, an alluring shade of ruby red that shined in the dim lighting. Hell, everything about her shined.

The angel's song ends; everyone claps, but especially him. He would stand and whistle like some of the men, but he doesn't want to appear too bold. The girl steps down from the stage and walks over to the bar, hips swishing. He gets up from his seat and makes his way over to her as quickly as he can without seeming desperate.

She's chatting happily to the bartender, the same man who introduced her onstage. He slides up beside her, leaning against the bar casually and tipping his hat up.

"That's a beautiful voice you've got, miss. May I buy you a drink?"

She turns toward him, looking him over with teal eyes rimmed with thick dark lashes. Those red lips form a smile, and she leans in towards him.

"Sure stranger. Between the sheets?"

"Excuse me?"

He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Miss Ruby laughs at him. He can even see the beginnings of a smile on the bartender's face.

"It's a drink, stranger. Nathaniel, darling, between the sheets please."

"Anything for you honey," Nathaniel replies, winking.

Once the glass is in her hand she turns back to him. Those ruby lips sip the cocktail playfully, teasingly, her eyes sparkling.

"I can't possibly call you stranger all evening. What's your name?"

"Ian."

She extends a hand politely. "People here call me Ruby, but my name is Victoria."

Ian smiles. This dazzling girl is unlike any other he's ever met. He's become too used to the quiet and sensible girls of the day. This girl, this exotic rarity, is making him forgot everything. All he can focus on are her entrancing eyes, the swell of her breasts at the neckline of the dress she's wearing.

Victoria sips her drink thoughtfully, taking in her companion's appearance. His eyes are a few shades lighter than her own, the kind of color you usually only see in imported fabrics. His skin, like hers, is smooth and pale. He's wearing a green blazer that compliments his eyes, and his smile is slightly crooked.

He's handsome, she thinks.

"You look like you're thinking awful deeply about something, miss."

It's been some time since a man's lips have touched hers. Her last beau had left once he found out where she went at night, and that was a year ago. This man sparked something in her, something she had not felt since before that cold night in the park, when she had been left standing there confused as Paul had walked away.

Perhaps tonight, she would have a bit of fun. She sets her empty glass aside and sets a hand gently on Ian's arm.

"Do you like my dress?"

"Very much, miss."

"Perhaps then, you'd like to come to the dressing room to see a few more."

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"Ohh Ian..."

Victoria's back is pressed against the wall, Ian's lips on her neck and his hands cupping her full breasts. Her own hands are working quickly at his belt. She likes the way he pants lightly as he gets excited, and how his dark hair feels against her cheek. The heat between her thighs gets more and more intense as she finishes his belt and moves her hands up to shrug off his blazer.

They are interrupted, however, by the sudden sound of screams and crashing outside the door.

"Everybody out! It's a raid!"

Victoria thinks quickly. She shoves Ian away from her, making herself look presentable again and hurriedly grabbing her coat.

"C'mon, there's a door right here behind the uniforms, let's make a run for it."

"I...can't."

Victoria is already shoving aside uniforms and groping for the door handle; her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Can't? You're going to stay here and let yourself get caught? Look, I'm not going to dawdle, so either you hurry up or you're on your own."

"No," he pulls her forward, taking her hand and sliding it inside the blazer, over his shirt pocket. There's something hard there, cool to the touch, made of metal. A badge.

"I really can't."

Victoria pulls her hand back as if she's been stung. Now is not the time to panic, however. She regains her composure and stands up straight, head held high just as it was when she first entered the building.

"So what now? Going to arrest me?"

She expects a solemn nod, followed by being lead out into the cold night. The same mothers who gave her disapproving looks on the street will give her those same looks when they see her face in the paper.

Instead, a sly smile spreads across Ian's face. He picks her lipstick up off her vanity and slides it into her coat pocket.

"I think, Miss Ruby, that it'd be a damn shame to see such a pretty face locked up behind bars."

Victoria can't help but smile. She leans forward and places a chaste kiss on Ian's cheek.

"Look me up, stranger. I wouldn't mind a bit more between the sheets."

"I'd love to buy you another drink."

"Who said anything about drinks?"