Sins Of The Flesh. J. Critch Margot
But she’d never let herself get close to him, and on only a few occasions had she ever been one-on-one with him. The reason why? Those dark brown eyes, his deep, low voice that flowed from his lips, effortlessly transitioning between Spanish and English. He was normally so polished, looked every part the well-put-together politician. But at three o’clock in the morning, the dark shadow of a beard colored his strong jaw and his hair was slightly disheveled, and it made her fingers itch with the need to reach across the table and smooth it. He looked rugged in nice but worn jeans and a fitted black V-neck T-shirt. It showed that there might be more to him than the arrogant politician-slash-businessman.
They looked at each other, not saying anything. She imagined that, like her, he was trying to figure out what to make of their current situation. Silent, until the shadow of the waitress fell over their table.
“What can I get for you folks?” she asked them, barely looking up at them from her notepad, seemingly unaware of the tension that radiated between Jessica and Rafael.
“I’ll have a coffee,” Rafael said.
“How do you take that?”
“Black.”
“And you, hun?” She turned to Jessica.
“I’ll have tea. Something herbal, if you got it.”
“Lemon okay?”
“Sounds good.”
“Any food?”
“No.” She shot a pointed look at Rafael. “I’m not hungry.” She was, in fact, starving, but she couldn’t afford to spend any longer in his company than she needed to.
The server turned to Rafael, pen poised to take his order. “Nothing else for me, either. Thanks.”
When the waitress walked away, Jessica folded her arms and leaned across the table. “I thought you wanted breakfast.”
“Well, I don’t want to order food if you aren’t going to have any. I can’t have you seeing my food, getting jealous and stealing any of my bacon.” He said, serious, before flashing a bright smile at her.
Flabbergasted, Jessica shook her head. Rafael had her at his whim, and he sat there joking. “So, what now?” she asked him, ignoring his attempts at humor. She needed to get down to business. “Are you going tell the press? Or leak the fact that I strip online? Or just plain old blackmail me into dropping out of the mayoral race altogether?”
Rafael honestly seemed to consider his response. “That was my first thought. But, you know, it’s not really my style to go to the press. Maybe I’ve had a change of heart. I’m not a snitch. And God knows I’ve got my share of skeletons.”
“Oh, really? So, what then? What are we doing here?”
He shrugged. “Intrigue, maybe? I guess I was curious why a fairly popular city councillor and mayoral candidate has stripping as a side gig.”
“Only fairly popular? Check the latest polls, bud.”
“Polls don’t mean anything,” he said with a wave. “Up, down, whatever. The only thing that matters is election night.”
She sighed. “I’m going to ask once more—what are we doing here? It’s late, and I’m too tired for this.”
“Why do you do it? Is it the money? Councillors make a decent salary.”
The waitress reappeared with her tea and Rafael’s coffee. When she shuffled off again, they both sipped from their cups until Jessica spoke again. “It’s fun, it’s empowering and I’m good at it. And it isn’t a side gig. For a long time, stripping was my full-time job. I know I won’t be able to do it for much longer without being found out, especially not when I’m mayor.”
“You are good at it. One of the best I’ve seen.” He nodded and looked her over. His heated gaze made her breath halt. “You’re still so confident that you’re going to win? I’m also curious what the more conservative Las Vegans would think about your job when they find out?”
She said nothing, bristling at the implication, still unsure of what his plans were. “When they find out? I thought you weren’t going to tell.”
He chuckled, and the sound resonated deep within her, and she realized that she’d never heard him laugh before. Hell, she’d barely even had a conversation with him. And damn him, she was starting to like it. He took a sip of coffee and leaned closer. “Why don’t we get out of here?” he asked, his deep and dark tone told her exactly where he wanted to go with her.
She stilled. And that was it. Angry words bubbled to her mouth. She leaned across the table and pointed her finger in his face. “I’m not going to sleep with you to keep your mouth shut. You can forget that.”
He blinked quickly, and paused, as if he were trying to choose the right words. “Trust me, sweetheart, I’ve never had to resort to blackmail to get a woman into my bed. I’m not about to start now.” His eyes searched her upper body, and she felt the burn from them. “No matter how good of an idea it might be.” She remained unconvinced, and tried to stop herself from thinking about him getting her into his bed. He kept going, and she had to focus her attention to hear what he was saying. “You clearly have the wrong idea about me,” he started. “You don’t seem to like me very much.”
A shocked laugh made its way past her lips. “How fragile are you? Is that what you’re worried about? People not liking you? So what if I don’t? You’re everything I don’t like, everything that’s standing in the way of real change.”
“No, not quite.” He held up his hand, cutting her off. “I know that there are quite a few people around town who don’t like me, and I don’t care. But for some reason, I’m just concerned about you not liking me.” He paused to let it sink in. “I’m not a bad guy, Jessica, really. And even though you think you know a lot about my life and my upbringing, you really don’t. And that’s unfortunate. And seeing as how we’re spending so much time together lately, going to the same events, I think we should get to know each other.”
She rolled her eyes, used to having men propose that they get to know each other. “I’m sure you do.”
“Come on.” He smiled. “My closest friends, at least four people who aren’t blood-related, agree that I’m actually a pretty great guy.”
“And what if I already feel like I know enough about you?”
He yawned. “You know, it is pretty late. We should probably go. My flight leaves in a couple of hours.”
“Wait. We aren’t done discussing what you’re going to do with the information you plan to hold over my head.” His constant switching of gears, changing the conversation, had her experiencing whiplash.
He shrugged. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with it yet. Maybe I’ll give you the opportunity to plead your case. Spend some time with me when we get back to Vegas. I’m sure we can talk through this.”
“I don’t have time to spend with you. I have to work.”
“Stripping or campaigning?”
She seethed. “Campaigning. I don’t strip in Vegas.”
“That’s unfortunate for Vegas.” He frowned, looking her up and down. She was grateful for the table, as it stopped his gaze from lighting the rest of her on fire.
Jessica looked across the table at him. His dark brown eyes were warm, disarming and held the slightest bit of humor. Part of her knew all she needed to know about Rafael Martinez—that he was a self-interested businessman. It wasn’t common knowledge just how deeply lined his pockets were, or just how well connected he was in the local business scene, but she’d learned enough in her time working with him to know he wasn’t what Las Vegas needed right now. But she was attracted to him, there was no denying that. Just looking at him stirred the interest between her thighs. Maybe the other