Sins of the Flesh

by J. Margot Critch

  “Nope,” Rafael said simply and ate a forkful of his own porterhouse.

  “Yeah, what happened, man?” Brett asked. “It was pretty rough to watch.”

  “I thought it was going well at first, but things got off track toward the end there,” he admitted. “Jessica’s impassioned, and she’s appealing to people’s emotions, their fears. And I get it. People are sick of the same no-action politicians. But, man, I didn’t think she’d be so formidable an opponent.”

  “And about Jessica,” Alana started carefully. “I saw her at the club last night. Before you escorted her upstairs?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Shit. He thought when he’d left his friends at the table, they’d been too tipsy to notice who he was meeting. Alana shrugged. “I run the place, not much happens that I don’t see.”

  “I just wanted to talk to her in private,” he explained. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before he reached for his water. But he could still taste her.

  Alana lowered her fork and turned to fully face him. “You have two offices, there are dozens of conference rooms in the building,” she reminded him. “And at least a dozen more places where you could talk that don’t contain a bed and a fully stocked minibar.”

  Gabe’s eyes widened expectantly, and Brett and Alex both snorted into their glasses. Rafael knew the other men at the table were glad they weren’t the ones under Alana’s shrewd attack. When she wanted to know something, there was nothing that could steer her off course.

  “What do you want from me?” he asked her. “We had a good time.”

  “As good of a time as you had in San Francisco last weekend?” Alex asked, his eyebrow raised, looking to stir the pot a little, and make Rafael stew.

  The rest of the table looked at him. They hadn’t known about his impromptu trip out of state, and he’d hoped to keep it that way, but he knew all his secrets would come out eventually. There weren’t any secrets within The Brotherhood.

  “When were you in San Francisco?” Brett asked.

  Rafael looked at Alex, daring him to say something. His glare wasn’t enough, however, because Alex smirked. “He went to see Jessica.”

  Four sets of eyes turned to him.

  “You son of a bitch,” Rafael muttered.

  “What happened?” Gabe asked. “What was she doing in California?”

  “He isn’t telling,” Alex offered.

  “She’s your political opponent. Are you guys sleeping together, and what, going on vacations together?” Alana asked. When he didn’t respond, she frowned. “You aren’t going to share any details?”

  Rafael wouldn’t kiss and tell, and he’d keep Jessica’s secret, but he didn’t like withholding things from his friends. “It’s complicated. I can’t talk about it,” he said, knowing that wouldn’t do anything to sate his friends’ curiosity.

  “Rafael Martinez is reluctant to share the details of his sex life?” Brett laughed. “Now we know you’re in trouble.”

  “You don’t see it as a problem that you’re having sex with your rival?” Alana asked.

  “Jesus.” Rafael’s voice rose, frustrated. He’d hoped only for a relaxing dinner with his friends, but he’d found himself facing the gauntlet. “What is this inquisition? We’re not sleeping together. We’re just hanging out, getting to know each other, as colleagues.” He knew it was a lie. Only an hour ago, he’d kissed her, eaten from her, in her office. He could still taste her on his lips. And he was still hungry for her, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had her again.

  “Next time, why not try being vague?” Brett joked.

  He looked around the table at his friends. “You’re all assholes, you know that, right?” He pointed at Alana and Alex, who both smiled when he said, “Especially you two.” After the snickers quieted, Rafael picked up his water glass and took a sip. Alex’s smile had turned to a frown, and Rafael knew he didn’t approve of any interaction he might have with Jessica. “Just say it,” Rafael said to him.

  “I’m just worried that you’re losing focus. There’s no reason she should have been able to win the debate over you, unless you were off your game.” Maybe he was—he’d never failed to express himself to a crowd before tonight. “This might be a diversion to keep your mind off the election. And even if she isn’t trying to distract you, whatever you guys have going on can definitely get in the way of the campaign.”

  “No,” Rafael insisted, although his friend spoke the truth. He hadn’t expected to lose the debate, and she’d utterly destroyed him on that stage. If his performance continued to be so lackluster, then he would surely lose the election. He shook his head. “Don’t worry about this. It won’t affect the campaign, or the business. I’ve got everything under control,” he told them, not sure he believed that statement himself. Famous last words.

  * * *

  Riding high from her debate success and another spectacular orgasm at the hands and mouth of Rafael Martinez, Jessica had gone for a few rounds of celebratory margaritas with Ben. Several hours later, they stumbled, giggling, into their house, said good-night and went promptly to bed. But even though she was dog-tired and tipsy from the tequila, she was unable to keep her eyes closed. Despite the fact that she hadn’t slept much the night before, and despite the fact that she’d ingested more tequila than a human body could possibly handle, sleep completely evaded her, and she rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The glow of the streetlights and passing cars outside lit her bedroom, casting shadows throughout the room. She watched them, hoping that the gentle lights would help her doze off.

  Nope.

  Jessica exhaled a frustrated sigh, as the red numbers of her digital clock told her it was after midnight and she’d been in bed for over an hour. It was Rafael’s fault that she was still up. Being with him the night before, and that evening in her office, plagued her. Under the blankets, her fingers touched her thighs where he’d held her. Her skin felt hot, as if his fingers had singed into her flesh, leaving stinging wounds. All she could think about was how easily she’d allowed Rafael to take her over. When he got near her, her brain shut off, and her loins were 100 percent in charge. The thought sobered her. No matter what he knew about her, no matter how vulnerable he’d made her, she couldn’t help it. He could ruin everything for her, but she just couldn’t stop herself around him, and that feeling burned within her. Even now, she could feel herself become damp, wetting the panties she’d worn to bed. She wanted Rafael.

  She looked over at her bedside table. Her cell phone was charging. She disconnected it and before she could tell herself not to, she opened Rafael’s contact information, typed him a quick Hey and put the phone down.

  She only had to wait a few seconds for a response. What are you doing?

  I can’t sleep.

  His response was immediate. Me neither.

  How was dinner?

  Good. There was a delay. I want to see you again. Tomorrow. Come over to my place, we can have dinner.

  Why?

  Because I’ve been thinking about you all night.

  Me, too.

  What are you doing right now? he asked her.

  I’m in bed. You?

  Same. Are you naked?

  She looked down at her tank top and panties. Yes, she lied.

  Why don’t you send me a picture?

  Jessica smiled. You want a nude?

  Yeah. Why not?

  You’ll keep it to yourself?

  Of course I will.

  She couldn’t. Right? He, along with many others, had already seen her naked. She could hide her face and still give Rafael what he wanted. She giggled and sat up, putting down her phone for a moment. She stripped off her tank top, then turned on the bedside lamp and held her phone above her, her front-facing camera helping her align the device so that she took a photo of her torso from the mouth down. That way if it got
out, no one would know it was her.

  Before she could think better of it, she hit Send. And added a follow-up message. Your turn.

  * * *

  Rafael gripped his phone, waiting for her next message. He wasn’t sure what to expect, a nude or a prompt go fuck yourself. That was the thing with Jessica Morgan, she always kept him guessing. After dinner, he’d gone to bed, tried to sleep, but it didn’t happen. The book he’d used to distract himself hadn’t worked. He was tense, edgy, and from the moment he’d taken his mouth from between Jessica’s thighs, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything but getting back there. No matter how long a cold shower he’d taken, or the number of times he’d taken matters into his own hands, nothing had been able to make his body forget about the way she felt. But thinking about Jessica also led him to think about the man who’d walked in on them in her office. Who was he?

  When his phone dinged at the arrival of Jessica’s message, he sat up and quickly opened the picture. The sight of her full breasts, trim stomach and her devilish grin about did him in.

  He laughed to himself at her text, and replied. I don’t think so.

  Why not? You want me to trust you, show me why I should.

  Jessica had one hell of a point. If he had any shot of currying her favor, seeing her again, she needed to trust him. He smiled, his heartbeat racing, pumping blood southward, and he pushed himself out of bed. Naked, he strode into his closet and stood in front of the full-length mirror. He knew he had a good body. He worked hard on it. Over the last decade, since he’d been voted in to city council, there’d been magazine articles and online posts citing him as the city’s, and one of the country’s, sexiest politicians and most eligible bachelors. He spent hours in the gym, whenever he wasn’t working, to maintain his physique. And it showed. His body tensed as he flexed his muscles slightly, and when he was satisfied with the result, he snapped the picture and sent it to Jessica. Like her, he didn’t include his face, but definitely captured his cock, now erect and pointing upward, a result of the picture she’d sent him, which he wouldn’t be deleting anytime soon.

  He was heading back to his bed when he got her simple response. Nice.

  Think it’ll get you through the night?

  Hopefully.

  Why don’t you let me come over to your place? I can make you scream once again, and then we might be able to get some sleep. There was another delay before her next message, and he was sure for a moment that she wouldn’t respond.

  Ben probably wouldn’t appreciate the screaming.

  Ben, again. Who the fuck was that guy? You may be right. Rafael tried to play it cool. And even though he knew there might be another man in her life, he was only seconds from suggesting she sneak out and come over to his place, but then her message came through.

  I’ll see you tomorrow.

  CHAPTER TEN

  RAFAEL DRUMMED HIS fingers on his desk, and he looked at his watch. It was almost five, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he was leaving the office when everyone else did. He’d finished all his work and he wasn’t sticking around. He was anxious to see Jessica, and for the entire day it was all that he could think about. He picked up his phone and for the thousandth time that day, he looked at the topless photo she’d sent him, and each time it stoked the fires within him higher and higher, until his clothing felt tight and constricting. In his entire life, he’d never been so completely captivated by a woman. Normally with a lover, he’d be able to do the deed and move on. But with Jessica, he was incapable.

  He looked at his watch as the second hand passed the top, signaling that it was five. “Fuck this,” he muttered and stood from his desk. Jessica wouldn’t be coming by his house for a couple of hours, but as long as he wasn’t getting more work done, he might as well just leave, go to the gym, maybe, see if one of the guys was available for a session. At least try to get rid of some of the excess energy he had.

  As he was packing his laptop into his shoulder bag, Jillian bounded into the room, her arms full of stacks of file folders. “Oh.” She stopped short in the doorway when she saw him. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “I work late all the time, I didn’t think I needed permission to leave at the day’s end.” He tried not to sound so defensive, but it didn’t work.

  “Of course not, I just thought that we could go over the latest polls, and strategize how to overcome Morgan’s surge in popularity.”

  He knew he should agree and stick around. But he was antsy. He needed to get out of the office. He needed to see Jessica. “I can’t tonight. I’ve got a meeting.”

  She frowned. “There’s nothing in your calendar about an evening meeting.”

  “It just came up last night,” he told her. He had to get out of his office. “Let’s go over strategy tomorrow, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Jillian said to his back, as Rafael walked out the door ahead of her. He didn’t turn around, but he could feel her eyes on his back as he walked into the elevator.

  * * *

  Rafael popped open the lids from the carryout trays, and laid them out on the dining room table. He could have cooked, his mother would be mortified that he hadn’t, but why would he, when he had a Michelin-star chef at Thalia who could do it for him. Everything looked and smelled amazing and he realized that he hadn’t eaten since earlier that morning, having worked through lunch in an effort to be able to leave the office on time. But it wasn’t as though he’d gotten much done. Hell, all he’d done in the two days since they’d been together was try to find a way to shake past the need for Jessica. He’d worked on several projects, barked his way through a couple of meetings and he’d beaten Brett’s ass in a training session with their personal trainer, an MMA fighter who coached them weekly. The sessions had always been a good way to work off stress and tension. But today it had done nothing but leave Brett walking away with a limp.

  But outside every stop, there was at least one reporter waiting to talk to him, to get a sound bite, luring him into saying something negative about his opponent. But he never took the bait. He’d been in politics long enough to know better. But in his recent memory, he couldn’t recall a municipal election that had drawn the curiosity and attention of the people in the way he and Jessica had.

  There was a knock on the door, and he smiled, knowing it was her. He tried to control the speed of his gait as he walked to the door to greet her. When he pulled it open, however, it wasn’t Jessica that greeted him, it was Alex. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “I was in the neighborhood,” he said, pushing in. “Thought I’d pop by.”

  He narrowed his eyes, knowing that his friend lived all the way across town. “You never pop by. You’re very much against the pop by. What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to check on you. You really went hard in training today. I was just wondering with the campaign ramping up and the election getting closer, and whatever the hell you’ve got going on with Jessica, if you’re doing okay.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but everything is fine. It’s a stressful time. And I’m sorry if Brett couldn’t handle our session, but at least now he’s back at home, with Rebecca playing nursemaid. Maybe he got soft while he was away on his honeymoon. But I’m okay.”

  “Dude, I’m not fucking around here. You need to tell me what happened in San Francisco. You went there to catch her stripping and use it against her campaign. But you haven’t told me what’s up. You haven’t done anything to throw off her campaign. Now you guys are spending all this time together. Man, talk to me.”

  “Nothing’s going on,” Rafael said immediately. He hated lying to his friend—he’d never done it before. He and Alex had known each other since they were children, and seen each other through thick and thin. “This thing with Jessica, I don’t know what’s going on, but—”

  A knock at the door stopped his
words. His head whipped around to the sound, and he turned back to face Alex, who just seemed to take in the bottle of wine, open on the counter, two glasses poured, the set table and the two take-out containers that held food.

  “You expecting someone?”

  “Yes, and it wasn’t you.” Rafael opened the door to find Jessica. She smiled when she saw him, but she frowned when she looked over his shoulder, seeing Alex standing next to the table.

  “Don’t mind him,” he told her. “He was just leaving.” He turned to his friend. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, you will,” Alex muttered and walked out the door, leaving him and Jessica alone.

  “What was that about?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Rafael said, handing her a glass of wine. “Why don’t you take a seat. Dinner’s ready.”

  She looked at the plastic carryout trays. “I thought you were cooking.”

  “I was going to. But then I realized that I haven’t picked up groceries since the campaign started, and even if I did, I wouldn’t have time to cook anyway. I mean, I could have cooked this. But instead, I found a chef to do the work.”

  She laughed. The sound was pleasant in his ears. “Well, it certainly looks good.”

  “I stopped at Thalia on my way home.”

  “Oh, nice, Ben took me out there for my birthday last year.”

  “Ben,” he repeated, a hint of annoyance in his voice. He didn’t know who the man was, but he already didn’t like him.

  “Yeah, the guy who stopped by my office after the debate last night, after we—” She stopped and narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you jealous of Ben?” she asked, with a laugh.

  His laugh was short. “No, I’m not jealous.” He was always so sure and secure. He rarely wasted any time on jealousy.

  She sauntered closer, as he busied himself pouring them some wine. “Ben lives with me. Are you sure you aren’t jealous?”

  “Nope.” He played it cool. If she was involved with Ben, then everything that they’d done together would mean she was a cheater. And he thought less about cheaters than most. “Jealousy isn’t really my thing.”