Page 47 of Morally Corrupt

"You know the rules, handsome?" I was in the VIP section on a couch when she'd come up to me and asked. She was dressed in a purple skintight mini dress that emphasized her curves. She'd had these gorgeous green eyes that seemed to sparkle when she looked at me.

"Look but don't touch?" I'd barely found my words, so mesmerized I'd been by the slope of her breasts and the sway of her hips.

"This one, you can touch." She'd gotten on her knees in front of me, her hands slowly creeping up my thigh.

"And what else?" I'd asked, my right hand caressing her cheek before my thumb slipped behind her lips.

She'd sucked it before saying, "You can do whatever you want to me." Her hands had continued their exploration until they'd reached the growing bulge in my pants. With a languorous pace, she'd opened my trousers and taken me in her hand. Everything had stilled as she'd dropped her head to lick me from base to tip before taking me deep into her throat. My hands had gone to her hair of their own accord, and I'd fucked her mouth like a mad man. After I exploded in her mouth, she'd licked her lips clean and purred. Without a word, she'd stood to leave, but I'd had to get her name.

"Pink," she'd said and walked away.

It wasn't until she was well out of sight that I'd realized she'd just sucked me off in front of everyone. That'd been my first taste of Pink, and I kept coming back for more. For over two years, she'd been my only avenue for physical relief. Then I met Bianca, and I stopped going back to the Palace.

I'm not going to lie and say that my thoughts haven't strayed to Pink once or twice in the past years. She'd been the first woman I'd fucked more than once and on a regular basis. She'd also been the epitome of sexuality wrapped in a delicious package. Few women fucked like Pink did, with such depravity and abandon.

But for all the bliss I'd found inside Pink once upon a time, I'd never exchange what I have now with Bianca. Sex, for the sake of sex, didn't hold a candle for sex with an emotional connection. Even if we lack spiciness in our lovemaking, it's still mind blowing because it's with her.

But it seems that now she's open to trying more. And I can't wait.

"Rico is following her now." Marcel leans against the wall, his nose in a document when he casually informs me about Rico, interrupting me from my reminiscing.

I groan aloud at that. Reality crashes down as I realize that while our sex life may be improving, my wife may also be cheating on me.

"I am curious, though." Marcel comes towards me, dropping the files on the table.

"What?"

"What will you do if she's actually having an affair?" I look at him for a second, considering my reply.

"Will you divorce her?" he continues to probe. I frown at his question, not because it wouldn't be the natural one if one's spouse were having an affair, but because Marcel is the one asking a personal problem. Again.

"I don't know," I reply honestly. Marcel nods and takes a seat, changing topics.

"I got someone willing to give us information about Jimenez. Are you sure you want to proceed? You saw how it all turned out with Martinez. These people are dangerous."

"In my position, I can't really afford to care about the dangers. Not when people are suffering under Jimenez. Not when I know he has undetected sex rings right under the nose of NYPD."

Marcel shakes his head.

"We both know it's not really about your constituents. I'm fairly sure your parents wouldn't want you to disregard your safety." Marcel is close to hitting a nerve, so I just grunt.

We've rarely talked about my parents or my personal connection with Jimenez, and I want to keep it that way. That topic belongs to a different arena of my life. One that I'd long left behind.

"What I'm trying to say is that they have connections. Dangerous connections. I'm not talking about people who can ruin your career. I'm talking about people who won't hesitate to put a bullet through your skull. You and everyone you love."

I give him a dry smile. "That's not exactly encouraging."

"No, but you saw how Martinez died. And in their world, that's mercy."

"Sometimes, Marcel, I have the nagging feeling that you know too much of their world."

"You do what you gotta do, right?" He looks away.

"Right…" But I still wonder… He knows my deepest secrets, but do I know his?

* * *

It's a little over seven, and I'm just wrapping up my work, ready to go home, when Marcel suddenly appears in my office.