Page 13 of Sweetest Sin (Tempting Love #1)
Dominick
I can’t remember the last time I spent the entire day sightseeing.
Aside from the occasional texts with Matteo—him telling me he thinks he’s getting closer to finding Brielle and me letting him know the contract with Victor was a done deal—I didn’t handle any other business.
My only focus was on the fiery redhead that I’d quickly become obsessed with.
After we visited the waterfall, I took her to see a few other sights that the concierge had confirmed were the perfect spots to show a woman I was trying to impress.
The truth is, while I’ve been to the DR several times over the years, I’ve never taken the time to explore the island.
My trips have always been business-oriented … until now.
Until her.
We came back to the hotel to take showers and get ready for dinner, but as I watch Peyton step out of the room in a tiny black dress, the only thing I want to do is stay in and rip that fucking dress off her.
“I hope this is okay,” she murmurs, running her hands down the front of her formfitting dress while eyeing the suit that I had brought over since this trip was unexpected.
“It’s more than okay,” I say, taking in her black fuck-me heels that I can imagine digging into my back as I fuck her on the terrace under the stars. “Let’s go before I change my mind and make you my meal instead.”
Peyton smirks. “I wouldn’t mind.” She saunters over and slides her hand down my chest and torso, landing on my groin. “Especially if it means I get to make you my meal.”
She squeezes my cock—which is stirring to life, thanks to her—and I back away, groaning in frustration.
“We’re going to dinner,” I insist, making her pout in response.
As much as I want to lay her out on the table and spend the night inside her, I also want to do this right since I only have one night with her, and that starts with wining and dining her.
The upscale restaurant I take her to is located on the water and serves authentic Spanish cuisine.
Since she isn’t sure about what she wants, I order several items from the menu for us to split.
The conversation is light, and she lets me in a bit more when she tells me about her time at college.
It doesn’t surprise me that she was in a sorority, but it’s a reminder of how different our lives are.
I tell her a little about my business, keeping it PG, and she’s in awe of how many businesses Antonov Enterprises owns.
We discuss the possibility of her going back to school, and when she mentions that she’s not sure if the loans will be worth it, I note to have Janet put together an anonymous scholarship that will cover the cost of Peyton’s schooling.
I hate that I won’t be able to see her follow her dreams, but at least I know she’ll be given the opportunity.
“I’m so full. I think you’re going to have to roll me out of here,” she jokes after taking the last bite of dessert.
“How about a walk instead?”
“That sounds nice.”
I pay the bill, and then we head out the side entrance, which leads to a sidewalk that will take us back to the hotel.
We walk hand in hand, and I can’t help but note how natural it feels with Peyton.
The talking, the flirting, the kissing. Everything with her just feels right.
As she smiles up at me, I consider telling her about the arranged marriage and asking her to wait for me to figure it out.
But it wouldn’t be fair. I didn’t choose this life.
I was born into it, and I’ve embraced it, accepted it—hell, most days, I fucking thrive on it—but she deserves better than this.
Better than what I’m capable of giving her.
“Thank you for today,” Peyton says, not for the first time.
We stop just before the entrance to the hotel, and she rolls onto her tiptoes to give me a kiss.
Her lips are smooth and sweet and perfect.
When I’m back home, I know one of the things I’ll miss the most is this connection.
Aside from my brother, I’ve always had to keep people at a distance.
But with her, I let my guard down, and it feels good.
“I will always remember this trip,” she murmurs against my lips. “And I was wondering …”
In the lights shining down on us, her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of peach, and I quirk a brow, silently willing for her to continue, unsure what she wants to say that has her blushing.
“I was wondering if we could take a picture. I won’t post it or tag you or anything like that. I just want it so I have a memory of us to?—”
“Peyton, breathe.” I chuckle, and her shoulders sag. “I’d love to take a picture with you.”
I’m usually a private person. We even have an entire IT team on standby to wipe out anything we don’t want online. I’ve never had a social media account, and my family knows better than to post pictures on any of the platforms. But if it means Peyton has this memory, I’ll gladly go against my norm.
I spot a couple with two small kids walking down the sidewalk and ask the gentleman if he can take our picture.
“My wife would probably be the better option,” he says with a light laugh. “She’s the photographer in our family.”
He looks over at her lovingly, and she smiles. “I’d love to.”
Peyton hands her the phone, and we pose in front of the water—me holding her in my arms and her resting her hand on my chest.
After thanking them for taking the picture, Peyton watches as the family continues to walk away.
When I eye her in confusion, she answers my unspoken question.
“That’s what I want,” she says with watery eyes. “A loving husband and two, maybe three kids. All close in age so they’re not lonely, like I was as an only child. I want family vacations and romantic getaways.”
“You’ll have that one day.”
“It’s what my mom wanted,” she says, her tone somber. “Instead, she got an abusive husband, years of heartache, and one daughter she struggled to care for.”
“You’re not going to be her,” I say. “You’ll break that cycle.”
She nods in agreement and then looks down at the photo of us as I eye it over her shoulder.
I already knew she was the sliver of good in my otherwise corrupt world, but as she stands next to me, I can’t help but be reminded of it.
She’s all smiles and innocence and softness in contrast to my stoic expression, which hides all the shit I’ve been through that hardens a person.
But even with our differences, I could envision a life with this woman in another world. Date nights and vacations. Asking her to be my wife. Creating a family together, just like she wants.
Fuck, the thought of her swollen with my child has me instantly hard. Would they have her fiery-red hair with my gray eyes?
I would run the real estate company with my brother and sister by my side, and after Peyton was done getting the degree she wanted so badly, I’d teach her the hospitality industry so she could run it along with me, if that was what she wanted.
But that’s not my reality because real estate is only the tip of the iceberg. It’s the legal business that helps us wash our illegal money.
I try to picture Peyton in my world, filled with drugs and prostitutes and weapons. She’d have to have a guard everywhere she went. Our children would always be a target. Every day, her life would be at risk.
No, Peyton doesn’t belong anywhere near my world. She’s too good, too innocent. She deserves to stay in the light, not be sentenced to a life shrouded in the darkness.
We only have tonight. The hours are dwindling down until we get on the plane and fly back to Coral Bay, where we’ll part ways and I’ll stop stalking the gorgeous woman who can never be mine.
The ride in the elevator is quiet, and I wonder if she’s getting cold feet. Maybe it was all too much, too quick, and she’s having second thoughts about spending the night together.
As we step into the suite, my phone rings with a call from my assistant, Janet, who texted me earlier to say she would be calling with a couple of time-sensitive questions.
“I need to take this,” I tell Peyton.
“Of course. I’m going to step out onto the terrace and get some fresh air.”
I nod and answer the call, then head into the second bedroom for a little privacy.
Janet and I go over a few things she needs for an upcoming project, and once we’re done, I let her know that I won’t be reachable until tomorrow.
I put my phone on Do Not Disturb—with exceptions set for Matteo, Mom, and Brielle—and then head into the bedroom to get changed. After throwing on a pair of sweats, I grab my shirt and bring it with me into the bathroom so I can brush my teeth before I put it on.
I assumed Peyton was still on the terrace, so I’m momentarily taken aback when I find her standing in the bathroom—in only a white lace-and-satin bra and matching panties set.
She’s leaning over the sink, reapplying her lip gloss, and her breasts are hanging like perfect raindrops, begging to be released from their confines. Her ass, which is as creamy and smooth as the rest of her, is popped out, the tiny thong leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Dominick,” she breathes when she spots me in the doorway.
Needing to be closer to her, I cut across the bathroom and come up behind her, both of us standing in front of the mirror.
“Do you have any idea how enticing you are?” I tell her, running my hand over the curve of her shapely ass. “Standing over the sink in your virginal white bra and panties set?”
“I was hoping you’d like them. I hate to break it to you … but I’m no virgin,” she murmurs, her emerald eyes meeting mine in our reflection.
The thought of her being with another man has me wanting to find every guy she’s been with so I can punish them for having touched what’s mine.
I reach around and pull her bra cup down, exposing the swell of her breast and her rose-dusted nipple. I tug the other side down and then pinch both nipples, eliciting a moan from her.
Fuck, I can’t wait to have her screaming my name as she comes on my cock.