Sins Of The Flesh. J. Margot Critch

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Sins Of The Flesh - J. Margot Critch Sin City Brotherhood

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least let me get you a cab.”

      “I can get my own cab.”

      He looked up and down the street, and saw the road was empty but for a lone taxi coming toward them. It stopped, and Rafael opened the back door for her. “Mind if I share? There don’t seem to be any others around.”

      Jessica thought about refusing, but she looked him over in his designer jeans and her gaze snagged on that watch. Pretty boy wouldn’t last a second. No matter what she thought of him, any harm that befell him would be on her hands for leaving him there. “Whatever. Come on.” She shuffled inside the cab, but she found herself against the hard plastic of a child’s car seat that was strapped into place behind the driver, unable to move beyond the middle seat. Rafael then got in after her, firmly trapping her in her place.

      * * *

      Rafael was surprised by the lack of space in the back seat of the car, and the closed confines made him squeeze his body against hers so he could shut the door. His arm and thigh pressed against hers. Her skin was warm and smooth against his, and interest stirred deeply inside of him. The crackle of electricity that danced between them was like a live wire. He looked over at her, and she sat rod-straight, looking directly out the windshield, ignoring him entirely. He wondered briefly if she’d felt it, too. He shifted again, just to see, brushing her arm as he moved. He got his answer when she drew in a quick breath between her teeth, like a gasp, and she quickly shifted away from him, putting as much distance between them as she could. Which wasn’t much.

      “Where to?” the cabdriver asked. Rafael looked in the mirror and saw the eyes of the driver. Jessica gave him the address of her hotel.

      “And you, buddy?”

      “Drop the lady off first, then we’ll worry about me,” he said, not taking the chance that the driver would drop him off first. Rafael’s protective nature pulled at him. This late at night, well, early in the morning, he wanted to make sure Jessica got to her hotel safely before he got out of the car. The driver shrugged, indifferent to Rafael’s answer, and pulled away from the curb.

      They drove in the tense silence of the car, their bodies pressed together. Every time Jessica tried to shift away from him, he felt her soft skin rub against his own, and the contact caused a familiar stirring in his groin. He’d always thought she was gorgeous, but Jesus, since seeing her performance on the stage, there was no fucking doubt that he wanted her. As his dick came to life in his lap, he tried to think of anything that would dissipate his desire. Baseball, Antiques Roadshow, Monopoly, the three-hour Easter vigils his mother dragged him to as a child. Nothing worked. He coughed to clear the lump in his throat.

      Jessica was facing forward, looking out the windshield of the car as they made their way to her hotel. But Rafael kept his eyes on her. He’d harbored at least one or two (dozen) fantasies about the woman beside him, most of them capturing his imagination at the duller moments during their city council meetings, or during mind-numbing political dinners and fund-raisers. She was intelligent, tough, articulate, goddamn sexy. Since campaigning had begun, she always had an opinion about something he proposed, and she was a continual thorn in his fucking side. They were political opponents, and she took potshots at him any chance she got, while he did the same. But pressed against her in the back seat of a San Francisco taxi, all he wanted to do was kiss her. But he had to stop himself; he couldn’t let on what he was feeling, and he hoped that the bulge of his stiffening dick wasn’t plainly obvious to her. He looked down at her, her features highlighted in the light of the dash. She was beautiful, soft, vulnerable. As a man who was so normally in control of his desires, he tried to fight his need. But he wasn’t sure he would win.

      Perhaps feeling his eyes on her, Jessica turned her head and they locked eyes. The air between them was still charged. Jessica said nothing, but her lips parted; the movement was small, but he caught it. Before he knew he was doing, Rafael reached for her and, putting his palms on either side of her face, brought her lips to his.

      She was hot, sweet, and the moment his lips hit hers, he knew she would either reciprocate, fall into his kiss, or smack him with rejection. At first, she was stiff, but when he took her bottom lip between his own, nibbling her lightly, she sighed and softened, yielding to him. She lifted her hands and fisted them in the front of his T-shirt as her lips parted with his. She tasted like lemon from the tea she’d had at the diner, and her tongue dueled with his as he tried to maintain control of the kiss.

      He reached across her, unsnapped her seatbelt and pulled her into his lap, so that both of her legs draped over one of his thighs and his dick, rock hard, drove into her lush ass. The low ceiling of the car didn’t give them a lot of room, and she had to duck her head. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers fisting his hair, and he kissed her harder as she lowered them, running her hands over her shoulders, down his chest. Rafael was harder than he’d ever been in his life, and he needed to be inside of her.

      He knew that they were in the back of a cab, and that they had an audience in the driver, but he didn’t care, and from the way her lithe fingers made their way under his shirt, and up his chest, she didn’t, either. The hand that rested on her bare thigh skimmed upward, until he was under her skirt. Her legs parted slightly, and he took it as an invitation to go further. When his fingers hit the satin barrier of her panties, he slipped past them and, again, she offered no resistance. He about shook with desire as his fingers found her hot flesh, already slick with her need. His fingers circled her clit, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clutching him, pulling him closer. She cried into his mouth. Oblivious to the driver in the front seat, Rafael slid one finger and then another inside of her. She gripped his fingers from the inside, and he began to slide them in and out, as the heel of his hand pressed against her clit, his movement almost made effortless by how wet she was. He imagined that it was his dick, and he groaned into her mouth. Jessica’s breathing quickened. Her every physical response, her shallow breath, the way she spread her legs wider, allowing him greater access, the small desperate sounds that she made in his mouth, told him that she was coming.

      He considered taking her then and there, as his cock about threatened to burst through his jeans, and he would have, if not for the sound of a throat clearing from the front seat. The driver, requiring their attention. He pulled away from her long enough to look at the other man. “Fuck,” Rafael muttered.

      “Miss, we’re at your hotel,” the driver announced, looking straight out the windshield.

      “Oh, right,” she said, her voice shaking, with her impending release, and his hand still between her legs, neither of them making any effort to move.

      With one hand at the back of her head, he pulled her to him again, not letting her get away that quickly. He kissed her again. “Invite me up,” he told her, just a breath of electric air was all that separated them, his lips skimming hers with every word.

      She said nothing, as he held his breath, waiting for the okay to go up with her and continue the night. But as the haze of desire cleared from her eyes, a look of shock replacing it, she gave him a soft “no” and pushed herself from his lap. “I can’t.”

      His need for her numbed the surprise he felt by her refusal. Most women didn’t refuse him, especially after he made them feel the way he just had. But Jessica was different. She disengaged from him, taking her seat next to him. He immediately missed her heat, her slight weight against his dick. And they both remembered that because of the car seat that blocked the door nearest her, he had to get out to release her. “Move, please,” she said, her breath still heavy and matching his own.

      He could have remained seated, insist again that they spend the night together. But she was right, and he knew it. They couldn’t. They shouldn’t. So, he nodded and got out of the car, adjusting the

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