Page 18 of Sweetest Sin
Dominick shakes his head. “I only get you for twenty-four hours,” he says, pinching my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. You will join me for my meeting, and then the rest of the day will be spent seeingthe sights. We’ll have to stop and get you a bathing suit. The waterfall I’m going to take you to is too beautiful to merely look at from afar.”
Shoot. I was so focused on which undergarments to pack that I forgot to pack a bathing suit. I always bring one when I’ll be staying overnight, just in case I want to go to the hotel pool. And we’re in the DR, which has some of the prettiest beaches in the world.
“Wait,” I say, his words hitting me. “We’re actually going sightseeing?”
Dominick stares at me for several seconds and then throws his head back with a laugh. The sound momentarily startles me, but once I get myself together, I take him in. Serious, broody Dominick is gorgeous, but when he laughs, his entire face lights up. His gray eyes lighten and twinkle with mirth, and I swear, he looks ten years younger.
When he stops laughing, his smile remains, and I memorize the way he looks for when we part ways and I think about him. This is how I want to remember this man—laughing, smiling, happy. It’s clear from the intensity he carries that whatever he does for a living is stressful. When I watch him working on his phone or laptop, he’s so serious, his eyes turn dark, and I worry that the stress will eventually give him a heart attack. But right now, he looks young and carefree, like he’s a completely different person.
“Of course we’re going to see the sights,” he says as his eyes scan my body. “Do you have something to change into for brunch?”
I think about what I brought and cringe. “I brought shorts and a shirt to change into when I arrived and one dress in case I went to dinner tonight.”
I honestly didn’t think he would be on my flight, but just in case, I threw a little black dress and heels into my luggage. It will work for dinner, but not for brunch.
“We’ll stop and get you something,” Dominick says matter-of-factly.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” I tell him, but he simply shakes his head.
“I can assure you,” he says, his eyes alight with lust, “watching you try on dresses and bikinis will benefit me as much as you.”
6
Peyton
When Dominick saidwe would go by the store to find me a dress and bathing suit, I thought he meant Target or Walmart. So, when we pulled up to the most adorable local boutique, I was pleasantly surprised. But once we walked in, I was in heaven. Beautiful dresses donned the mannequins, and every style swimsuit imaginable hung on the walls. Gorgeous shoes, heels, and wedges were showcased on the shelves. I could’ve bought one of everything. Until I saw the price tags.
With one look, I stepped back, and that had Dominick insisting that he was paying. And since he clearly makes enough money to—I mean, the guy books two business-class seats just so no one will sit next to him—and the brunchisfor his business meeting, who am I to say no?
“What do you think?” I ask, doing a quick twirl in a navy-blue-and-white floral dress that is cut low in the front, showcasing my cleavage, and hits just above my knees.
I thought Dominick would tell me to grab something and meet me at the register, so I was shocked when he sat in the seatoutside of the dressing room and told me to model each one for him.
I’ve tried on and shown him two other dresses, and he’s looked at both like he wants to rip them off and fuck me against the wall in the changing room.
To be honest, I wouldn’t be opposed.
“That’s the one,” he says, his gaze gleaming with want. “But just to make sure, turn around one more time. I didn’t get a good enough look from the back.”
I playfully roll my eyes but twirl again. “You know, if you want to check out my ass, all you have to do is?—”
Before I make it all the way around or finish my sentence, the front of his body is pressed against my back, and he’s pushed me against the wall in the changing room, caging me in. He’s so close that I can smell his fresh, masculine scent, and it momentarily distracts me.
Until his hand goes to my hip, and his face nuzzles into the side of my neck.
I gasp at his touch and wait to see what he’ll do next.
“Fuck, you smell so good,” he murmurs, running his nose along my now-heated flesh.
“It’s lavender,” I say dumbly.
He inhales deeply, and a shiver visibly races through my body, making him chuckle.
“Tell me I can touch you,” he whispers against my ear. “That I can slide my hand under this dress and feel how wet you are. I bet this cunt is drenched.”
I tighten my legs and nod.
“You know I need to hear the words,” he says, his voice smooth, like he’s not anywhere as affected as I am.
