Page 20 of Sinful Claim


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My hands shake to near convulsions, but I choose to finally put all of my trust in him.

The plane takes off, and by some miracle I’m able to hold on without crumbling to the floor.

11

Aleksander

Despite how well things started out, the rest of the flight was absolutely brutal.

It wasn’t Faye’s fault, but the weather we ran into was like nothing I’ve ever encountered since I became a pilot. It’s the kind of thing you’d expect to see when you fly as a daily job, not as casually as I do. It feels like bad luck, but I need to keep myself a little more optimistic than that. We’re already in Tokyo because of a string of tragedies and bad luck. I can’t afford any more bad omens.

Faye is exhausted for most of the plane ride, so fortunately she misses the worst of the storm. I’m sure that had she known how bad it really got, she would have been panicking and crying. I wouldn’t have had the patience for it, and that would have done nothing to help her ease into me a little more.

She’s being intentionally withholding about certain details of her life, and I think she’s under the impression that I don’t notice. She won’t tell me any information about her job, only that she has a degree that cost her a ton of money in student loans. That could be anything these days, and even then, a college degree doesn’t say much about someone’s character. If it was something vague like business, I’d have more questions than answers.

We touch down in Tokyo at three in the morning, and I’m so fatigued from the long flight that I’m ready to just collapse into a bed at the most expensive hotel in the city. I decide to go for it – I figure at least Faye will get something out of it. I’ve been to this hotel a few times before, and it’s extremely nice, but this is the standard that I hold for my lifestyle. Faye has no such thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if the most luxury she’s ever experienced was at a Disney resort.

I order us a limo to take us to the hotel, and Faye is shocked that I would spend so much money on a ten-minute drive.

“What, are you expecting me to get us a taxi? The cost is negligible. At least this way I know that my things are being taken care of. If everything you owned was worth over three thousand dollars. You would be able to empathize. I know it,” I reply to her as we pack our suitcases into the limo.

“Is this really just how you live? I’ve been waiting for the veil to fall for a little bit now,” she replies with skepticism.

I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

She shrugs, climbing into the back of the limo as she temporarily finds herself distracted by the LED lights.

“Oh, like I just figured you were pretending to be rich. Some guys do that, I’ve never met a guy who was actually as rich as he says he is.”

I climb in next to her, slightly amused at how enamored she is with such simple details of the inside of a limousine. “What kinds of fucking guys are you talking to?”

She laughs a little, her expression somewhat bewildered. “Oh, you know, the ones on dating apps who tell you that they have a really good job and can pay for everything until they ‘forget’ their debit card.”

Damn, she’s been dating guys who are straight-up losers. I guess I can’t blame her too much – most girls wouldn’t want a guy as rich as me if they knew what it was that I do for work. Faye doesn’t seem too turned off by it, but I’m not sure if it’s because she’s open minded and accepting or shallow.

“Wow, that’s kind of sad. You ever give them a second date?” I ask as the first wave of dizzying exhaustion hits me.

“Well... some of them, but only because I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. There was never a third date though, of course.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? So, you only go on third dates with guys who have money? I’ll keep that in mind.”

She smiles, covering her mouth with her hand like a teenage girl as she looks out the window. “Wow, this city really is beautiful. How many times have you been here?” she asks as the neon of the clubs and shops illuminates our faces.

“Three or four times. I know we’re being well taken care of at the hotel I booked, but I’d expect nothing less for how fucking expensive it is. Even I can see that some things are overpriced.”

She giggles. “It still doesn’t feel real. Being here, I mean. This is the kind of thing I would have dreams about at night, then I’d wake up so disappointed in the morning.”

“I used to have dreams like that about leaving Russia. Every morning I woke up in my own bed felt like a practical joke. Then when I came to the US, it took me months to remember where I was every morning. It’s weird how life works that way,” I reply, watching her yawn like a sleepy kitten.

“I’ll want to just go right to sleep when we get there, if that’s okay. I can sleep on the couch if you need me to,” she offers.

“What? There are no pull-out couches in a place like this. You can have your own room, but we can sleep in the same bed together if you want that too. It’s up to you,” I reply, feeling myself growing aroused at the thought despite how tired I am.

“Oh, wow, um... I don’t know about that,” she replies, curling up into herself and using her body as a shield against her embarrassment.

I would play with her a little but more, but all I can think about right now is sleeping. It feels somewhat disappointing for me, having this beautiful woman here all to myself. She’s showing interest in me as well, which makes it even more annoying that I can’t manage to enjoy the moment.

* * *

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