Sins of the Flesh

by J. Margot Critch

  There was no denying it, Jessica wanted him, and she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else until she had him. She’d already blown off meeting with her campaign manager. What else would she jeopardize for a chance to be with him? God, she didn’t want to want him. But there was no other reason for her to go there, to his sex club, if they didn’t end their evening with their clothes on the floor.

  She tried to tell herself that it was just a precaution, to make sure he wouldn’t discuss what he knew about her. Perhaps they could come to an understanding. But the other part of her remembered vividly the way he’d spoken to her that afternoon.

  Looking around, she tried to get the vibe of Di Terrestres. The music was a slow, low hip-hop beat, and she almost swayed her hips, losing herself in it before she snapped out of it and realized no one else was dancing. She was surprised by the size of the club. Despite the square footage, through some miracle of design, it still managed to feel intimate and close.

  The walls were lined with plush booths, and each held anywhere from two to five people engaged in some sort of romantic entanglement. A long bar ran along the opposite wall. And she beelined for a drink. But on the way, she saw many familiar faces. Colleagues, athletes, celebrities, notable citizens of Las Vegas, voters. At first, she panicked, thinking that they would recognize her, but when they smiled and nodded politely in greeting, they moved on. Finally, she made her way to the bar and ordered merlot. If they wouldn’t give her the entire bottle, which was what she actually needed, she would settle with a glass.

  Either way, she’d put a seriously long time into getting ready. She’d settled on a simple little black dress and a pair of black leather T-strap heels. And she’d picked out her favorite push-up bra and lace thong combo for underneath. The outfit always made her feel confident and in charge, and she hoped she would still feel that way after seeing him.

  She took a sip and looked around, wondering how it was all supposed to work. She was a little early. She couldn’t sit at home and count the minutes until nine any longer. She looked around again, wondering if she should go find Rafael. How would he know she was there?

  Maybe she’d been stupid. Maybe he was looking to embarrass her. “Why do you look so nervous?” She heard a familiar masculine voice as someone approached her from behind. She turned her head and came face-to-face with Rafael Martinez. “A sensual woman like yourself fits right in with this crowd.”

  Jessica tried not to tremble at the smooth, deep sound of his voice. “I’m not nervous.”

  His smile was smug, and she was torn between slapping him and kissing him. He reached out and touched her bottom lip with his thumb, and he leaned in, placing his lips on hers for a brief second. “For a politician, you aren’t very good at schooling your emotions.”

  The contact almost made her sigh, but she controlled herself. “You’re pretty full of yourself.” The bartender handed him a short glass tumbler that contained an amber liquid, a drink that he hadn’t ordered, and he took the seat next to her. He took a sip and then smiled again.

  Despite the sultry music, the sexuality that surrounded her, the smell of Rafael’s cologne and just how badly she wanted to fuck the man beside her, Jessica had a moment of clarity, one that told her that this wasn’t right. She stepped up from the barstool. “You know what, I think I might have made a mistake. I should go.” His hand on her forearm stopped her. The same electricity that had coursed between them before still existed, and their eyes locked. “Why don’t we just leave it at this? We’ll promise to never speak of the other’s extracurricular activities, and just forget everything.”

  “Stay,” he said. The command was simple, and his voice was low, but authoritative. And Jessica hated the way she found herself listening to him, taking her seat again, without taking her eyes from his.

  “Thank you,” he said, sitting back on his barstool.

  They both sipped their drinks in silence for some moments, watching the other over the rim of their glasses. “I should have known that you were behind Di Terrestres.”

  “And what exactly do you know about it?”

  She looked around, and her eyes landed on a booth where a man sat with two women, taking turns kissing them between gulps of expensive champagne. “I’d heard of it. I know it’s erotic. Some kind of sex club, or something. I’ve heard there are rooms here somewhere, where wild things happen.”

  “And here you are, because of it, or regardless of the fact? Are you looking to burn off a little energy, or de-stress?” He glanced around. “That’s what a lot of our high-profile guests come here for. I know the campaign’s taken a lot out of you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “You look tense. I can’t help but think it might be because of our kiss? Maybe you’re here because you need to get laid.”

  Kiss was a bit of a misnomer for what they’d shared in the back of that cab in San Francisco. “And what if I am?” she whispered and leaned closer to him. “What if I did come here to find some guy to fuck? I think you’d better get out of here, though, and let me find him. I doubt anyone will approach me if you’re hanging around.”

  “Now, why would I just leave and let another man fuck you?”

  “Is the fact that I asked you to not enough?”

  “If you recall, I asked you to invite me up to your hotel room on Saturday night, and you didn’t.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “So, we have an established history of not doing what the other wants.” He paused and leaned closer. “But what if I asked you now to come upstairs with me?”

  She sat back away from him and looked around. Her body told her that was what she wanted. But her mind still held out. “What if someone sees us together?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He reached out for her again and cupped her cheek. “Nobody cares here.”

  Rafael smiled and nodded over her shoulder, gesturing behind her. She turned to see two men, one a well-known local businessman, the other an entertainer, ascend the staircase to his left. They were holding hands and looking at each other with heat and affection in their eyes.

  “Isn’t that—” she asked him, after recognizing the couple.

  Rafael nodded. “Neither of them is officially out, for whatever reason. That’s up to them. But they regularly meet up here. In no other public building in the city would the two of them be able to show open affection. What they do here is on their terms.”

  “And no one says anything to the press?”

  “No. There’s no reason for anyone to say anything about what goes on here between consenting adults. Everyone signs the same confidentiality form as you did, and it is as binding as any other legal document. We have a team of lawyers, led by my friend Gabe, who makes sure to enforce it. This is a safe place for all sorts of indulgent behavior. No one here cares who spends time with who, or who goes to bed with who. It’s a place where people can be themselves, meet colleagues, talk business, but also act out their most secret fantasies and desires, without fear that they would be outed in their communities. But for the most part, people come here for the same reason, to get away from the public attention that surrounds their usual lives.”

  It struck true to Jessica. Rafael knew about her secret, but apparently, she wasn’t the only one with a secret. She looked around. It made sense to her. If she could somehow live her life the way she wanted, as a world-renowned exotic dancer, and have a life in politics, she would jump at the chance. But she was sure that she could never afford what was most likely a hefty membership fee.

  “Come on,” he said. “Why don’t we go somewhere a little bit quieter?”

  * * *

  It was a couple of beats before she responded, and Rafael wasn’t sure whether she would just turn and walk away. She seemed at war with herself but she nodded, a small, nearly imperceptible bob of her head, but he caught it.

  She stood and he put his palm
on the small of her back, though he let her break away to walk a couple steps ahead of him. Then he escorted her up the staircase that led to his private room. While his friends had bedrooms in their offices, Rafael did not, opting instead to use the extra space for work purposes. Instead he’d chosen one of the suites as his own private sanctuary. Additionally, he didn’t want to sleep in the same place where he worked, recognizing the importance of separating work from his regular life.

  His heart pounded in his chest, and he couldn’t hear anything but the bud-um in his ears. As Jessica walked, she seemed oblivious to the way he couldn’t keep his eyes from the sway of her hips underneath her dress. He was transfixed by the way the movement made the material fall against her thighs, highlighting the body that he’d seen, touched, the weekend before.

  He caught up and casually dropped his hand on her hip, stopping her in front of the door to his own suite. He felt her eyes on him as he swiped his key card to unlock the door. When he heard the heavy metal clink of the lock, he opened the door and stepped back so she could enter in front of him.

  The motion sensor on the lights activated and the room filled with a low, muted glow, reminiscent of candlelight. The room was small, comfortable and held minimal furniture, just an armoire and a large king-size bed, which was flanked by modern nightstands. A door on the opposite wall was ajar. It led to a bathroom that contained a stand-up shower. There was also a fully stocked mini-fridge, and a small wet bar.

  She laughed—not the reaction he was expecting. When she turned to speak to him, one of her eyebrows was cocked inquisitively.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I’ve been so stupid.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “My secret could destroy my career and my reputation, but people wouldn’t even bat an eye at your—what is this?—your secret sex room?”

  “It’s not a secret sex room.” He chuckled, walked to the minibar and picked up a bottle of wine. “Cabernet sauvignon?” he asked. She nodded, and he poured them each a glass and brought her one. When she accepted it, their fingers touched. A shock of static snapped between them, and when their eyes locked, he knew she’d felt it, too. She pulled away quickly and brought her glass to her lips.

  “Why do you have a bedroom in your nightclub? If it isn’t for seduction?”

  “It sometimes gets used for seduction,” he admitted with an easy smile. “But, the more boring answer is that I spend a lot of my nights here when I’m working. My office is on the top floor of the building.”

  “You have an office here, too? Besides the one in city hall?”

  “I do, but I like my office here better. I got to design it, it’s comfortable and has all the amenities I could need, and the luxuries I don’t want, or expect, the taxpayers to pay for. It’s also my campaign headquarters. So, you can imagine how important it is to have a place to sleep nearby.”

  Jessica eyed him, as if she could see right through him. “There’s more, isn’t there? I was able to find out that you’re an owner in this place. You still have ownership in your businesses, don’t you?”

  She was good.

  When he didn’t respond, she smirked. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest, Councillor?”

  He stiffened. She was questioning him, and he knew that it would come back to haunt him if he let her get too close to his operations. While he knew her secret, he didn’t want her to know too much about him. “I still intend to maintain a part-ownership of the businesses, but in a more limited scope. My interests are in a blind trust, so I don’t have any say in how the assets are managed.” It was true, and she couldn’t refute the legality of the arrangement.

  “And how do you think voters would respond to your ownership in an erotic club? One of the sexiest clubs in the city. I’ve heard some rumors about the things that go on behind closed doors.”

  “And that’s exactly why we keep the doors closed.” He grinned. “Honestly, not many people know about my affiliation with the club. I’m not officially on the books as an owner, in fact, I’m not quite sure how you found out.” He wondered if her PI was possibly as good as his own... “But I’m still part of the partnership. So the voters? They probably wouldn’t like it. But Di Terrestres is like any other type of social club. Our clients can come here and mingle without having to worry about being caught in a compromising position. There’s no press, no outsiders. Just a safe space and like-minded people living out their secret fantasies.”

  “So tell me, what kinds of things happen here?”

  Rafael folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll take this time to remind you of the nondisclosure agreement you signed when you walked in the door. You can’t use any of this against me during the campaign. Our lawyers will be all over you in seconds. And they’re good, worth every penny. There’s no way you could beat us.”

  “I won’t tell anyone. But I hope that means you can keep my secret, as well?”

  He knew then that he would, but he wouldn’t say so, and went on with the introduction of the club. “People can mingle or dance in the main room, where we also have shows. Things can get pretty hot and heavy in there. And we also host dinners and a semiannual masquerade ball.” She nodded, and he held her rapt attention as he told her about the exhibition rooms, the concierge service and finally about the privacy suites where they were now.

  She looked around the room. “And you bring women up here?”

  “I have.”

  “Why did you bring me? If you want to talk, why aren’t we talking in your office? Is that not quiet enough?”

  “You’re a smart woman. I don’t think I have to explain why I brought you up here. I want you. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since San Francisco.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

  One corner of his mouth ticked upward. “I know. And I know you don’t want to go to my office, either. You’re right where you want to be.”

  They sipped their wine silently.

  “What are we doing here?” Her question was rhetorical, and she shook her head. “This is such a bad idea.”

  “I’ve had worse ideas,” he told her. “I told you why I invited you up here tonight. Now tell me this, why did you come here tonight?” He wanted to hear the words. Judging from her body language, the way she turned toward him, the outfit she’d chosen, the way her eyes roamed over him, he knew exactly why she’d come to him.

  “I wanted to hold it over your head that I know your secret.” He looked unconvinced and she hesitated. “I’ve just been kind of edgy all day.”

  “Edgy?” he asked, scooting a little closer to her on the couch.

  She turned to face him, and drawing a seductive line over her upper lip with her tongue, she smiled. “What if I said I was horny?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”

  She nodded. “Maybe you were right, I just have all of this anxious tension. I guess it’s the debate coming up. Everything with the campaign.” She turned to face him more fully, and her voice dropped lower. “You feel it, too.”

  “I do,” he said. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her. He’d craved her flavor for days. He leaned in, and when his lips were only millimeters from sampling hers, she pulled back.

  “Wait.” She sat back, putting distance between them.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just need to think.”

  “I want you. And I thought you wanted me. What’s there to think about?”

  “It’s not that simple. There’s the campaign to think about.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. There’s really nothing more simple, basic or primal than what we want. Desire. It’s not rational, it doesn’t have to involve thinking.” He traced a finger down her arm. “Just go with it. We can worry about everything else tomorrow.
It doesn’t have to change anything, and we can go back to hating each other tomorrow.”

  “You promise?” She laughed. “Just go with it. I like the sound of that.”

  Rafael finished the rest of his drink in one fortifying gulp, then poured himself another serving of wine. He turned back to her. “Want some more?” he asked, proffering the bottle.

  She noticed her glass was empty and nodded, holding it out.

  Rafael had brought Jessica up to his suite to have his way with her. He’d wanted it on his terms, as always. But he realized it wouldn’t be that easy. When he sat back down, it was on the opposite end of the couch, to give her some space.

  “So, what are you thinking?” he asked.

  Jessica said nothing. He could tell that her mind was still racing. She was thinking too damn much.

  Rafael watched her, confused by her but trying not to let it show. She took her bottom lip between her teeth again, just as she had when he’d seen her walk into the club. The move, while it turned him on, also made her look small and vulnerable. He knew she was anything but.

  “I still think this is a bad idea,” she told him, but she scooted closer to him on the couch, making up for the space he’d made.

  “I know it is,” he agreed. He sat only an inch away from her now, and with every deep breath that Jessica took, the rise and fall action caused her breasts to graze his chest. He didn’t care about anything else, he only knew that at that moment, in the present, giving in to this overwhelming connection outweighed the damage or repercussions it would have on his future. He would worry about those later. “But it seems kind of inevitable, don’t you think? Just based on our chemistry. We’re helpless against it.”

  “For one night, we could put it all away, and just be two people who are physically attracted to each other, and just relieve some of the tension. Because we’d both be lying to ourselves if we denied that there was anything between us.” She looked down at the bulge in his lap. Putting her wineglass on the end table and then her hand high on his thigh, she stroked him, his muscles hard through the material of his pants. “Judging from that—” she nodded at the bulge in his lap “—I can see that you agree.”