Chapter one

SEX IN THE SKY

I sob. “Please don’t do this.

Mom, help me. Don’t let him hurt me.”

“No, don’t touch me!”

“No, no—no!”

I wake up to my phone’s alarm, reminding me it’s time to go back to New York. And back home.

These nightmares are getting worse, even during afternoon naps. Ugh. This is not good.

I quickly touch up my face and get ready for a flight with a client.

---

When I get to the jet, I slip into work mode, but my mind keeps drifting back to the nightmares I’ve been having. And I know the only things that make me feel better are sex and alcohol.

My phone rings. It’s a video call from my best friend, Cassie.

“Bitch, you’re chilling while I’ve been seeing your posts all over social media,” I say.

“You can say that again,” she whispers, then flips her camera. “I’m hooking up with a hot guy, and it’s going to be a long night.”

“Ugh, I wish I were you right now, but I gotta go. The client is here, and it’s time to fly. Talk later,” I say, hanging up the phone.

Our client, Alexander, stares like a predator as he walks past me, and I greet him without taking my eyes off him.

*********

Twenty minutes into the flight, he slips into my cabin, teasing, charming, trying to turn it into a game. But I’m not playing. I’m desperate for escape, for pleasure, for anything that will silence my mind.

I slip a condom into his hand, the foil crinkling under my thumb. "I’m a busy woman. Don't waste my time."

I raise my uniform skirt up around my waist and straddle him, the billionaire mogul who owns this jet.

His strong hands grip my hips, pulling me down onto his thick cock. I bite my lip hard, feeling the intense stretch as my pussy swallows him inch by inch, slick and ready from the heated stares we shared during takeoff.

'Fuck, you're so tight,' he groans, his voice low and demanding, his eyes burning into mine. I gasp sharply, my nails digging into his broad shoulders through his unbuttoned shirt, a sudden jolt of turbulence rocking us and adding an edge to our connection.

I start riding him fiercely, my ass slapping against his thighs with every downward plunge.

The leather seat creaks under us as I grind my clit against his pelvis, the friction sending sparks through my core and making my inner walls clench tight around his dick.

He thrusts up to meet me, his cock driving deep, slamming against my cervix with a sharp, delicious ache that makes me whimper.

'Harder, bitch. Prove how badly you want my dick,' he commands, one hand sliding up to squeeze my boobs roughly, his thumb flicking my hardened nipple through the thin blouse fabric.

Sweat beads on my skin as I bounce faster, my pussy dripping wet down his length, soaking his balls completely. The jet dips again, and I yelp, the motion forcing him even deeper inside me.

Alexander sits up abruptly, capturing my mouth in a brutal kiss, his tongue thrusting in as he sucks hard on my lower lip.

His other hand smacks my ass with a sharp crack, the sting making me squeeze him tighter. 'That's it, milk my cock dry,' he murmurs hotly against my neck, teeth nipping the sensitive flesh.

He growls my name as he pumps thick ropes of cum deep into me, filling my core until it leaks out around his still-throbbing shaft.

Ugh , I haven’t met a man that can make me cum so hard.

We collapse together, breaths coming in ragged gasps, the jet's engines droning on as our afterglow lingers. But when the pilot's voice crackles over the intercom, I know this flight has only just begun.

*****************************

By the time I get home, the rush from earlier has dissolved, leaving a dull ache behind my ribs. My entire body feels heavy, like the sky wrung me out before dropping me back to earth.

The moment I close the door, a small white blur shoots toward me.

Snow.

My spoiled, fluffy, blue-eyed cat—my only consistent love, my only judge, my only comfort.

She lets out a dramatic meow like she’s been abandoned for years.

“I know, baby,” I sigh as I bend down and scoop her into my arms. “Mommy’s had a long day… and made some very questionable decisions.”

Snow lightly pats my cheek with her paw. I still can’t tell if she’s consoling me or shading me.

I kick off my heels, almost tripping because my legs are shaking. Snow jumps down and circles my feet like she’s herding me toward the couch.

“Careful,” I mutter. “I’m seconds from collapsing.”

I make it to the couch and fall into it face-first. The cushions swallow me whole, soft and forgiving, everything my life currently isn’t.

Snow climbs onto me immediately, stepping over my stomach and planting herself on my chest with entitlement.

Her tiny nose twitches.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I whisper, stroking her fur.

“You think I’m reckless.”

Snow blinks once. Slowly. Dramatically.

“And you’re right.”

A tired laugh slips out of me, thin, worn, the laugh of someone who’s been running from herself too long.

My body still hums from the stranger’s hands on the jet, but my mind… my mind is a storm. Why do I do this? Why does desire feel like the only real thing in my life? Why does the high always win?

Snow presses her head under my chin, warm and soft and grounding.

“You’re the only good thing I have,” I murmur.

Last hook-up flashes in my head, and I groan. Not from pleasure. From disappointment.

“God,” I mutter, flipping over. “Another waste of good lingerie.”

He couldn’t even keep up. None of them ever do.

I scoff at my own joke.

I sleep with random men when I’m stressed. I don’t care about names or faces; I care about release.

But lately, even that isn’t working. No man knows what to do. No man has ever touched me right.

It’s annoying. Miserably annoying.

Snow jumps on my stomach suddenly, making me gasp.

“Ma’am! Personal space!”

Snow sits by the kitchen doorway staring at me with her big blue eyes, tail flicking like she’s judging every life decision I’ve ever made.

“I know, baby,” I mumble. “You’re hungry. I’m hungry. We both deserve better than an empty fridge and zero cans of your overpriced princess food.”

My stomach growls loudly, as if confirming the misery.

I push myself upright, feet barely lifting as I shuffle into the kitchen. The cabinet where I keep Snow’s food is empty except for a single lonely sachet of treats.

“Ugh. This is tragic,” I say.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I complain. “I’ll feed you. I’m not a monster.”

She lets out a dramatic, offended cry.

I rub my face with both hands. “Okay, okay. Grocery run. Fine.”

I head to the shower, stepping under the hot water. My mind wanders, not to romance, because I don’t do romance but to the irritation of never being properly satisfied.

Is it me? Them? The universe punishing me for something?

It doesn’t matter.

Men are disappointments.

Food, however, is reliable.

I towel off and slip into comfortable clothes: soft grey joggers, a white fitted tank, a cropped hoodie. Simple, clean, cozy. Perfect for grocery shopping and maybe ignoring humanity.

Snow waits at the door, tail swishing like she owns me.

“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” I sigh. “We are going. Calm down.”

She zooms out of the apartment the moment I open the door, practically sprinting to the elevator.

Drama queen.

She leaps into the car before I settle in, her fluffy white tail flicking across my cheek.

“We talked about boundaries,” I whisper to her, starting the engine.

Music fills the car—soft R&B beats that vibrate through the seats.

Snow sits like my spoiled co-pilot, staring out the window as we drive.

When we reach the supermarket, I scoop her into my arms.

People stare, some smile, some whisper, some melt at her beauty. She deserves it. She’s a diva.

Inside, I push the cart one-handed, Snow perched like a fragile marshmallow in the other arm.

I start grabbing essentials, vegetables, pasta, milk then Snow’s special food. The princess eats better than I do.

I reach for a jar of marinara sauce, but my fingers slip.

The jar falls.

“Great,” I hiss—

But before it shatters, a big hand, strong, quick—snatches it from the air.

“Careful,” a deep voice says behind me. “Would’ve been a messy disaster.”

I turn.

And holy God of sinful DNA.

He is breathtaking. The kind of attractive that makes you forget everyone else you’ve ever met. Tall, broad shoulders, dark messy hair, stubble that looks professionally careless, and eyes that study me like he’s reading every thought I’ve ever had.

My stomach drops.

He hands me the jar, and when our fingers brush, something sharp and electric runs up my arm.

“Thanks,” I say, trying to sound normal. My voice betrays me.

He smiles slowly. “Anytime.”

Snow meows at him. Loudly.

He looks down, amused. “And what’s this little cloud?”

“This is Snow,” I say. “She’s dramatic and spoiled. Don’t let her pretty face fool you.”

He rubs her head, and Snow melts instantly.

Seriously? She hates everyone.

“She’s cute. And very smart,” he adds, eyes flicking back to me.

“I’m Sam .”

I tell him my name. His smile deepens like he’s savoring it.

We walk through the aisles together, talking lightly.

He’s charming and confident.

There’s something dangerous behind his calm expression, a heat, a pull, like he could ruin me and I’d thank him for it.

At the checkout, I swallow my pride and my hesitation.

“Would you… want to come over for dinner?” I ask. “I’m cooking tonight.”

He steps closer, voice dropping.

“I’ll come… if you give me your number.”

I type it into his phone, my fingers trembling.

“See you tonight,” he murmurs, eyes locked on mine.

My blood warms.

Snow purrs happily.

And as I walk out of the supermarket with him watching me like he already owns my future sins…

I know tonight might finally be the night a man actually satisfies me.