Page 8 of Sweetest Sin (Tempting Love #1)

Peyton

I’m almost positive I agreed to have a one-night stand with Dominick Antonov, the gentleman from business class. It wasn’t mentioned outright, but I’m pretty sure the sights Dominick wants to show me don’t include the local museums and parks.

As I shave my legs, I tell myself that he was messing with me. No sane man is going to take a commercial flight to the Dominican Republic with the sole purpose of getting laid. Chances are, I’m going to get on the plane, and he won’t be there, but …

I continue to shave, because I’ll be damned if, after going through a six-month dry spell, I’m going to be caught with prickly legs, hairy pits, and bushy lady bits.

The man is gorgeous in a suit, and I have very little doubt that he’s any less gorgeous without it on.

I’ve met plenty of men like him before—confident, sure of himself, knows his place in this world.

Unlike Dale—who I’ve been told is all dad bod—Dominick doesn’t try to flaunt it or throw himself at women because men like Dominick know they can have sex anytime they want, and they don’t have to harass or beg or threaten women for it to happen.

After finishing in the shower, I turn the water off and go about drying off and blow-drying my hair. I apply my makeup, laying the red lipstick on thick to match my naturally red hair, fully aware I’m doing it for a certain man I’m hoping will be on the flight.

My results came back, and I’m STD-free—thank God. But I’m not risking that shit again, so I pack a few condoms I keep on hand. I need to get on birth control, but that’s for another day.

I consider what to pack, wondering if it will look presumptuous if I bring lingerie.

This past year has been rough, and with Mom’s medical expenses, I haven’t had the money to buy much for myself, but when a friend of mine from college was getting married a few months ago, she bought her bridesmaids a sexy set of lingerie to wear under our dresses.

She said it was so we could be clichés and find a guy to hook up with after her wedding.

At the time, I laughed since I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to have casual sex, but now, I’m thankful for her little gift.

I grab the bra and panty set from my drawer and toss it into my bag—because who cares? The guy is clearly looking to get laid, and I’d rather be prepared than have him see me in my flowery cotton underwear.

“Peyton, you look beautiful,” Mom says when I roll my overnight bag out to the living room, where she’s reading a book and drinking her morning coffee.

“I was feeling good this morning,” I tell her, not completely lying since the thought of an orgasm that’s not self-induced does have me feeling good.

Mom smiles warmly at me, and I lean down to give her a hug and a kiss on her cheek.

“I love you,” I tell her, so thankful that she’s still here.

After we found out she had hepatitis C—more than likely from a blood transfusion she had received when she gave birth to me, although it can’t be proven—I thought I was going to lose her, but she did treatment and was in remission for several years.

Then, we found out that the hep C caused liver cirrhosis, which led to liver cancer. Again, I thought I was going to lose my mom. But after a successful liver transplant, she was back in remission.

Everything was going well until we got the news a few weeks ago that her liver was failing. And we were told that even with dialysis, her liver would only last—in a perfect world—two to three years.

The only option is to do another liver transplant, but Mom will never survive that, nor does she want to go through that again. So, that means she’s dying, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“I love you too,” she says. “Have a safe trip, and I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow.”

Since finding out that her liver is failing, I’ve started to look for jobs at home.

I took the flight attendant job after her transplant because the schedule allowed me to do quick trips, never being gone for more than a night or two, and our neighbor—a sweet elderly woman, who is also a nurse—could check on her while I was away.

But now, with her time limited and her health declining, I don’t want to be gone overnight. I’ve applied to several local jobs, including a few upscale bars and clubs, and my hope is to get one and then go back to school to finish my degree.

When I get to the airport, there’s a bunch of chatter, and when I ask Ericka—a colleague and fellow flight attendant—what’s going on, she shocks me when she says, “Dale was found dead late last night. Apparently, the guilt from all his infidelity caught up with him, and he killed himself.”

“What?” I gasp. “How do you know that?”

“His wife found an apology letter.”

“That’s insane,” I say. “He didn’t seem like the type who would feel any remorse for his behavior.”

“I guess it just goes to show you that we never truly know what’s going on in other people’s heads.” Ericka shrugs.

I think about Dominick promising that he would handle it.

There’s no way he had a hand in this, right?

It’s just a coincidence. He said he would handle it, and then Dale killed himself. There’s no way Dominick murdered a man and then made it look like he’d committed suicide. He’s a businessman, not the head of some criminal organization.

I shake myself from my crazy thoughts. I seriously need to stop watching those true crime documentaries when I can’t sleep at night.

“I guess so,” I agree.

We go about prepping the flight to the Dominican Republic. Since it’s only an hour-long flight, we won’t have to serve food, aside from snacks.

“A few of us are going to head to the beach when we get there,” Ericka says as we walk to the galley to get situated. “Want to join?”

“I’m not sure,” I tell her. “I’m feeling a bit under the weather. Can I let you know?”

“Of course. Are you good to work?”

“Yeah,” I say, backtracking. “It’s more mental.”

She nods. “I get it. Dale was a major dickhead, but knowing he’s dead is messing with my head too. And I know he was constantly trying to hit on you. If you need to talk …”

“I’m good,” I promise. “I think I just need some time to wrap my head around it.”

Since I’ll be working in business class, I grab the clipboard with the list of passengers and scan it, looking for a certain name.

The chart is done by row and seat number, and after several rows, when I don’t see his name, I tell myself it’s for the best. And then in the last row in business class is Dominick Antonov .

Holy shit. He’s on my flight.

The passengers start to walk on board, and I stay busy, helping them with their luggage. I can feel Dominick’s presence, but I don’t give him any attention, unsure how I feel about what’s going to happen once we get off this plane.

In theory, the idea of spending the night with this man sounded great, but the truth is, I’ve never done this before. I’ve always been a relationship type of woman.

After the other attendants and I do the final cabin check, the pilot announces that we’ll be taking off shortly, and we have a seat in the jump seats for takeoff.

Where I’m sitting, I have the perfect view of Dominick, who is staring at me.

His gray eyes are filled with lust, and the way he’s eye-fucking me has my thighs clenching in need.

If I could orgasm from a look alone, I’d be damn close to screaming his name in pleasure.

And if he can cause all this from just a look, I can’t even imagine what he might do in the bedroom when he could actually touch me.

Once the plane is in the air, I stand and start to make my rounds, asking everyone what they’d like to drink.

It takes a while before I get to Dominick, but when I do, instead of asking him, I bring him an old-fashioned and set it on his armrest. I’ve noticed that every time he flies, he never has anybody next to him, and when I double-check, I see that he paid for two seats.

“Thank you,” he says, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes locked on me. “I didn’t see the pilot on this flight. Did he finally heed my warning?”

At his words, my heart stills and then kicks into overdrive. I was worried that he’d had something to do with Dale’s death, but if he’s asking about Dale, that means he doesn’t know what happened, right?

“Actually,” I say, leaning in so nobody will overhear, “he was found dead last night.”

Dominick’s brows kiss his forehead.

“Apparently, his guilt caused him to commit suicide.”

He nods in understanding. “You don’t feel guilty for that, do you?”

When I shrug, unsure how I feel, he adds, “He was married with three children, Peyton. From what you told me, rather than being faithful to the woman he’d made vows to, he used his power to take advantage of women, such as yourself. If his guilt caused his death, that’s on him, not you.”

He’s right. I know he is, and I’ll accept that, but it’s going to take time.

“Can I get you anything else?” I ask him, standing up straight and changing the subject.

“Not unless you’re on the menu,” he says, eyeing me up and down with a smirk that has my lady parts tingling in want.

If I wasn’t sure what his intentions were regarding showing me the sights, my thoughts have now been confirmed. He wants me. In his bed. For one night. And then we’ll go our separate ways. Even though I’ve never done this before, I am completely on board.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m not on the menu,” I tell him, hiding my own smirk as I turn to walk away.

Before I can get too far though, his fingers wrap around my wrist, and he pulls me toward him. I fall into the empty seat next to him, and he leans in, his lips brushing my ear.

“I beg to differ,” he murmurs. “I think you’re not only on the menu, but when I lay you out on the bed later, I’m also going to find that you’re soaking wet and ready for me to feast on your cunt.”