Page 34 of Sweetest Sin
I think back to the way Peyton’s cunt felt while wrapped around my cock, and I disagree. Maybe pussy is pussy … until you’ve been with someone who means more.
“You’re thinking about that woman’s pussy, aren’t you?” Matteo laughs.
“Don’t fucking worry about what I’m thinking about.” I glare his way, and it only has him laughing harder.
“So, if it’s not pussy,” I say, getting back to the point of this conversation, “what’s your reason for not wanting to be in a relationship?”
“The same as yours,” he says simply, sobering up. “I watched what Mom went through … what Brielle went through. And I wouldn’t want someone I cared about to be within a hundred miles of this life. We might have to be a part of this world, but that doesn’t mean I would bring someone else into it. And add in the fact that I’m not exactly husband material.” He laughs humorlessly. “What kind of life could I even give a woman?”
Well, shit. I guess I got him all wrong.
“Matteo …” I start.
My brother might be rough around the edges, but I know how far he’ll go to protect the people he loves. I have no doubt, if he had a woman he cared about, he’d stop at nothing to make sure she was safe and protected.
“Besides,” he says with a smirk, not letting me finish my thought, “relationships come with expectations. Sex would turn into dates and trips and jewelry.” He mock shivers. “One night, no expectations—besides the promise of multiple orgasms—that’s what’s best for me and my bank account.”
“You say this like you’re not worth fucking millions.”
“And I plan to stay that way.”
He’s deflecting, avoiding the heavy conversation, and I let him because now isn’t the time or place to have a heart-to-heart.
“You got this?” I say, nodding toward the dead body.
“You already know I do.”
Since I drove into the office today, I head down to the private garage and unlock my Aston Martin. It’s not often I drive myself, but I knew I’d be meeting with Carlos this evening, and I wasn’t sure how it would go, so I sent Janet home early and told Fernando he had the day off.
I slide into the leather seat and push Start. I had the car customized, so it has B6-level armor, making it completely bulletproof.
I pull out of the garage, but instead of going left, which would take me in the direction of home, I go right, refusing to think about why. Until I get to the airport and park in short-term parking.
I’m just going to apologize, I tell myself.
The way I left things was fucked up. Maybe Matteo’s right, and Peyton and I have unfinished business. Once I explain, she’ll forgive me, and then we’ll go our separate ways. Hell, she might not even be here. This isn’t even where she’s based out of.
Since I can’t get into the terminal without having a ticket, I book one that’s leaving in a few hours and then go through security.
When I get to the right terminal, I go in search of her. It’s been weeks, so she might even be on a different route, but I won’t know unless I try.
“Excuse me,” I say to the woman standing at the counter. “I was wondering if you know where I can find Peyton. She works for this airline. Red hair, green eyes. We’re friends, and I’m hoping to get in touch with her.”
She looks at me in confusion, but her coworker next to her says, “I know her.”
I recognize her from the flight to the DR.
“I’m Ericka.” She extends her hand. “Peyton and I used to be on the same crew.”
Shit.“Used to be?”
“She quit. A couple of weeks ago. Something about her mom being sick and her needing to stay close to home.” She frowns sympathetically. “Sorry.”
“Any chance you have her number?”
“I do.”
“You’re just going to give it to him?” the other woman says.
