The Pleasure of Sin (5 page)

Disappearing out the door, he left her with no choice. She stared after him for a moment. She wished she could share her suspicions with him, but he would never understand. He would just tell her to leave things to the police.

And that was something she couldn’t do.

Besides, she couldn’t rule him out yet. She didn’t want to believe that he would ever hurt Ruby, but what if he had?

The truth was, she couldn’t trust anyone right now.

The truth was that everyone was a suspect.

Chapter 6

Clay arrived at exactly eight o’clock and took her to a little out of the way café. He quickly ordered several appetizers, including escargots and crawfish pie. The taste of the Cajun spices teased her mouth with flavor. Taking another sip of her wine, she closed her eyes as she allowed it to penetrate her taste buds.

When her eyelids fluttered open, she realized he was watching her.

“What?” she inquired self-consciously.

“I’m just watching you,” he replied simply.

“Well, stop,” she ordered, shifting uneasily in her chair.

“You never did want to be the center of attention, did you? You always wanted to be in the background, letting Ruby take the spotlight.”

“Ruby was always better at being the focus of attention than I was,” she reminded him softly.

“Not better, just more comfortable,” he pointed out.

She took another drink, hoping it would settle the fluttering in her stomach. Luckily, he didn’t dwell on the subject. “So, how is the real-estate business going?”

All throughout dinner, they spoke of 'safe' topics, each one not wanting to voice the questions that remained just below the surface. An hour and a half later, they began the walk back to the apartment. They had talked about everything during dinner—life, current affairs, things they had done.

It had been comfortable.

Too comfortable.

She mentally scolded herself.

She couldn’t allow herself to be comfortable with him.

Not until she knew the truth.

She couldn’t rule Clay out. She had to stay objective. Even though she didn’t want to believe that Clay was capable of doing something as heinous as murdering her sister, the truth was she didn’t know much about him. What if he had killed Ruby in a jealous rage? She had heard the stories of men who seemed normal and then one day snapped.

Was Clay one of those men?

He couldn’t be, could he?

When they reached the door to the apartment, she turned to face him. “Do you want to come in for a drink?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she cursed herself for a fool.

What was she doing?

Had she lost her mind?

“That would be nice.”

As she poured the wine, a new strategy began to form. Perhaps some wine would loosen his tongue. She took a seat on the couch next to him as he took a drink of his wine. He placed his glass on the coffee table. Turning to face her, he slid his arm along the back of the couch.

“Can I ask you a question?”

She hesitated for a moment before murmuring, “Sure.”

“Why don’t you like me?”

His question stunned her, and for a moment she was unable to speak. Finally, she regained enough composure to reply. “I like you.”

He moved a little closer to her. “Is it because of what happened that night?”

That night.

It stood between them, as impenetrable as a brick wall.

Her eyes met his. The intensity of his gaze stole the breath from her lungs. Her lips parted involuntarily on a sigh.

Yes, it was because of that night, because of the shame she still carried around like a badge. But there was something else as well. Something she never admitted to anyone, not even to herself.

A longing.

That night, he’d awakened a longing within her that she never dared to let loose, for fear it would burn out of control. Like a caged wild animal, she refused to allow it to see the light of day for fear it would destroy everything in its wake, including the bond she had with her sister. That longing had only found life through one man. And it was a sad irony that the one man who could bring it to life would never be given the chance to cultivate it. With so few options, the only viable choice she had was to hate him.

Self-preservation at its finest.

His head began to descend toward hers, and a part of her wanted to give in to the temptation. Then it hit her. They were in Ruby’s house, on Ruby’s couch, and even though she was dead, she was alive all around them.

“You should go,” she said, turning away.

For a moment, he was silent. Then he stood.

“You’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight thirty. There’s a new restaurant we can try.”

“I’m not sure…” she hedged, searching for a way to reject his offer.

He pinned her with a steely glare. “I’ll be here at eight thirty.”

His ominous order echoed even after he was gone.

The next morning, she woke up with a yawn. She rubbed the middle of her back with one hand as she poured a cup of coffee. Flipping on the television, she returned to her makeshift bed and took a tentative sip from her mug. She surfed the channels, allowing her eyes to slowly adjust to the harsh daylight.

The phone began to ring across the room, causing her to jolt. Sitting her mug on the coffee table, she walked across the room. “Hello,” she answered, her voice still a little hoarse from the night of tossing and turning.

“Jade?”

“Zoë? How are you?”

After a brief pause, Zoë spoke. “Are you sure that you still want to go tonight?”

The question caught Jade off guard, and she quickly took a seat to regain her bearings.

Was she really ready to see the life her sister had been living?

Could she really go through with it?

“Jade? Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. I’m sure. Do you want me to meet you there?”

Zoë hesitated for a moment, and Jade instantly feared that the other woman was reconsidering. “I’ll meet you at Ruby’s apartment at eight,” Zoë finally informed her.

“Zoë?”

“What?”

“What should I wear?”

At Zoë’s hasty instruction, she searched through Ruby’s closet, finally settling on a black leather skirt with a slit up the side that she was sure would show every man the world if she bent over. Her black fishnet top clung to her breasts, which were covered in a jet black bra. She let her hair hang in loose curls and applied her makeup more vividly than usual. As she slipped on a pair of high heels, she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror.

She shook her head at what she saw.

There was no doubt about it.

She looked like a hooker.

Worse, she looked like a cheap hooker.

Even though she knew she had successfully achieved the look she was going for, a part of her wanted to run into the bathroom, strip every inch of it off, and scrub it away until she felt clean again.

A knock at the door told her that the time had come. Her insides shaking, she took a deep breath. She had to do this. Instinctively, she knew that, but it did nothing to ease the fear that was welling up inside of her. Refusing to allow any room for second thoughts, she pulled open the door.

The woman before her looked nothing like the girl she had met before. This Zoë was a different person. Her hair was teased into big curls, and her usually pale lips were covered in a deep shade of red. The dress she wore matched the color of her lipstick, and it clung to every curve.

Each woman surveyed the other.

Each for very different reasons.

Zoë to see if Jade fit the part and would not stand out, and Jade in awe of the other girl’s transformation.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Jade held her gaze with more courage than she actually possessed inside.

“Absolutely.”

Chapter 7

They arrived at the club fifteen minutes later. Zoë walked ahead of Jade to knock on the door. The small window opened. The large man behind it took one look at Zoë before closing the window to open the door.

No turning back now, Jade thought, giving herself the same pep talk she had been reciting like a mantra since they left.

It was too late for that.

And she had come too far to stop just short of the answers she sought.

She watched Zoë walk ahead of her and knew that she had to follow. To contemplate the outcome of her actions would only serve to strengthen her fear.

No, there was nothing left to do but close her eyes and jump.

Zoë led her into a long dark hallway with blue lighting as its only illumination. The sexy tune playing through the overhead speakers seemed to vibrate through her chest as they forged ahead. At the end of the hall, she spotted a curve. Zoë stopped abruptly, causing Jade to nearly bump into her.

“This is it,” she whispered, pulling Jade close. “When you walk around that corner, you have to act like you belong. You can’t stare or act like what you are seeing shocks you. Believe me, these aren’t the type of people who would welcome me back if you cause a scene. If you want to find out who Ruby was seeing here, you have to play the part. It’s the only way.”

“Understood,” Jade acknowledged, trying to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to witness.

As they turned the corner and she got her first glimpse of the world her sister was a part of, she realized that nothing could’ve prepared her for what she found. Rooms lined both sides of the hallway, with glass walls allowing others to witness the events within. In the first room, a bed with a red velvet spread sat in the center. A woman lay tied, her hands and feet bound with ropes, her body naked. A man stood in front of her in black leather pants. The muscles in his back glistened in the light. The scene was so blatantly erotic that she felt her clit swell. The man’s head turned slightly to face Jade, and he offered her a half-smile.

She quickly moved forward a few steps, trying in vain to focus on the back of Zoë’s dress. The next room had chains suspended from the ceiling and the walls. A man stood in the middle, his arms pulled above his head while a woman in a black leather corset stood behind him. The look in her eyes left no doubt that she was the one in charge. She slapped a leather whip across her hand as she barked instructions at him.

Jade turned away, her eyes scanning the hall, but Zoë was nowhere in sight. She searched frantically around the room, but she still could not find Zoë. Looking just ahead, she noticed the door to the next room was open. She peered inside, seeing that the room was empty. The entire room was draped in lavender satin. A round bed rotated in the center. Taking another step, she noticed a thin gauzy material that hung all around the exterior of the bed.

She was about to turn to leave, when she realized that she was not alone. A man came up behind her, his hard body pressing against hers. She tried to turn around, but he held her still, his hands like a vise on her hips. His hands came up to grasp her hips, pulling her more fully against him. His erection pressed against her buttocks, leaving her breathless as he reached around with one hand to pinch her nipple.

What the hell was wrong with her?

She didn’t know this guy.

She should be running away, instead of feeling her pussy dampen with arousal. Even as he slipped the blindfold over her eyes, she knew she had to stop him.

But she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

And before she knew it, she was in his arms. He carried her across the room, placing her in the middle of the bed. She had to stop this before it went too far. If she didn’t stop him now, she might not be able to.

“We can’t,” she whispered, not even recognizing the breathy tone.

“Shhh,” was all he said.

He crawled over her, her legs trapped beneath strong thighs. A second later she felt his breath on her lips, and her body tightened in response. His mouth came crashing down on hers, his tongue invading her. Never had she been kissed with such ferocity, such power, such…hunger.

It was intoxicating.

It was sinful.

But it felt so good.

When he grabbed her wrists, his tongue teased her lips, making her arch against him. She felt something soft on each one of them, and when he pulled away, she tried to raise up in protest at the absence. It was then that she realized that he had cuffed her to the bed.

Panic raced through her body.

Oh God!

What was he going to do with her?

She didn’t have to wonder long as he pushed her thighs apart, causing her heart to practically beat right out of her chest. Suddenly, she felt his tongue slide up her inner thigh. Her insides quivered. He slid her skirt down her legs a moment before he divested her of her panties. She felt his weight press down on the bed as he knelt between her legs, his tongue drifting over her abdomen.

He pushed her shirt and bra up in one swift move, letting her breasts spring free. His mouth covered one, giving it a long pull as he tweaked the nipple of the other. She felt his breath drift across her already sensitive nipple before he turned to the other one.

Dear God, she was losing this battle.

She wanted to rage at him, to tell him to stop. But another part of her, the part that she never let free, was reveling in the feel of his mouth on her body. She thought of the fact that people could be watching them, could be watching her, and moisture flooded her pussy.

She berated herself internally.

She didn’t want to be watched.

Did she?

Rational thought escaped as desire took over. When he moved down her body, his mouth hovering over her pussy, she thought she would die with need. She gasped as his tongue swept through her clit to taste her arousal. Writhing on the bed beneath him, she could barely contain herself as his tongue slid in and out of her pulsing folds. His thumb made a circular motion over her clit, and her hips rose. He brought her close, and then left her at the brink, taunting her. A thin sheen of perspiration broke out over her entire body at the act of being denied. All thought left her mind as she focused on the one part of her that merely wanted to be filled.