Trainwreck 1 (Trainwreck #1)

by Nelle L'Amour

  We made excellent time back into the city, missing the traffic that would for sure later clog up the roads when the long weekend came to a close. Ari dropped me off in front of my brownstone. He helped me with my bag and walked me to the front door. We shared another awkward stretch of silence until he finally broke it.

  “I hope you enjoyed yourself, Sarah.” His voice was flat, and the way he said my name was clipped.

  “Thanks. It was a great weekend.”

  Anticipation, like a dangerous sparking wire, coursed through my body. Was he going to kiss me? Swoop me into his arms? Invite himself up to my apartment?

  Instead, he gazed at me coolly. “I’ve got to go.”

  Without touching me, he headed back to his car and took off. I longed for him to turn his head. Or even wave. He didn’t. Dammit. I should have ended it right then and there.

  With a mixture of disappointment, sorrow, and regret, I watched as the Bentley rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. Maybe I didn’t have to end it. Maybe he just had. His fear of commitment had gotten the better of him. Or I just wasn’t his supermodel type. Something in him had changed. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure that our relationship, if you could call it that, was over. Chances were I’d never see him again.

  My heart heavy, I jammed the key into the front door, but no matter how much I jiggled it, I couldn’t get the damn door to open. Just my luck. I buzzed Mrs. Blumberg’s apartment, but there was no answer. And then, Mr. Costanzo’s, the pizza man. No answer. Great. I was locked outside.

  As I lowered myself to the stoop and moped, Mrs. Blumberg came bursting out the front door with her shopping cart. There wasn’t a single day that went by that she didn’t shop for groceries. I suppose it gave her something to do.

  “Young lady, didn’t your mother ever tell you that you could get infections down there from sitting on a dirty stoop?”

  My “down there” throbbed. Once again, I felt robbed. Physically and emotionally.

  Shaking her head in dismay, the elderly woman held the door open for me with her cart. I thanked her for taking care of Jo-Jo and trudged up the stairs with my pink overnight bag, filled with the clothes Ari bought me. Fortunately, I had no problem opening the door to my apartment.

  Jo-Jo, with a loud hungry meow, greeted me and rubbed her head against my ankles. I threw my bag on the floor and hurried to the kitchen to feed her.

  I checked my messages. None. Opened my refrigerator. Nothing. I decided I might as well use the rest of the day to try to find a second job to help pay for my mother’s treatments. Later, I would call her. And tonight, I would start on Catherine’s bookings. Fingers crossed the Internet was back up and running.

  Not wasting time, I changed into my trusty combat boots and hit the pavement, still wearing one of Ari’s sundresses—and pantyless. The ache between my legs, which rivaled the ache in my heart, made it impossible to forget him as I combed the empty streets in search of part-time work. Most of the local restaurants were closed because of the holiday—including Mr. Costanzo’s pizza joint—and the few that were open had no employment opportunities. Exhausted and depressed after three futile hours of looking, I trudged back to my apartment in the late afternoon.

  The first thing I did was call my mother. She sounded upbeat, a little stronger than usual. I tried to sound cheery, telling her that I had a nice weekend at the beach. While I wanted to pour my heart out to the person who was my best friend in life and confidant, I refrained because I didn’t want to pull down her spirits. Of course, I didn’t tell her about the insurance problem and, in fact, still had no idea how I was going to break that news to her. I told her that I was looking forward to seeing her again on Friday. By the end of the conversation, my mother sounded tired. We exchanged “I love you’s” and I hung up the phone.

  I fed Jo-Jo again, and then boiled some water to make a cup of ramen noodles before starting in on my boss’s assignments. A loud rap at the door diverted my attention, and I turned off the stove. It must be Mrs. Blumberg. The busybody probably wanted to hear all about my weekend.

  I slumped toward the door and peered through the peephole. My heart dropped to my stomach. It was him!

  Ari

  After dropping Sarah off, I got a call from our factory in Hoboken. The “urgent” manufacturing problem had been solved so there was no need for me to schlep there. It was a welcomed relief, but now I didn’t know what to do for the rest of the day so I drove idly around the city. I just didn’t feel like going home to an empty apartment; not even Luisa would be there as I had given her the day off. The streets were deserted due to the holiday so I didn’t have to deal with the normal, stressful hustle-bustle. It was rare to drive through the city without being honked at, cut off, or having to hit the brakes for some crazy pedestrian dashing across the street.

  Taking my Bentley for a spin when the city was empty usually relaxed me, but I felt wound up. The aimless driving did little to wash away the anger that was clawing at me. I was angry with my sister. I was even angrier with myself. While I cruised down Fifth Avenue passing landmarks like the Empire State Building and the venerable Public Library, I mulled over my conversation with my sister and her account of Ben’s pool incident. Gwen was never one to hold back, but the wrath she harbored for Sarah ate away at me. Okay, I may have been a poor judge of character when it came to my fucked up ex, Cassandra, but I was younger then. And stupid. Infatuated by her supermodel beauty, worldliness, and glamorous life. Sarah was different. She was down to earth, smart, and caring. She just didn’t strike me as someone who would sit there idly when someone was in danger. Especially an innocent child. For fuck’s sake, she designed children’s toys for a living. I should have never believed my sister. The shrewd lawyer would do or say anything to win her case. She’d been like that even as a kid—always twisting things to get her way. Our father had taught us both to be winners, but for Gwen, winning was everything.

  I already missed Sarah. But I wasn’t sure if she’d see me again. I’d acted like a prick most of the weekend, showing my possessive side, and then I fucked her brains out and abandoned her. She wasn’t a girl I could simply fuck and forget. She’d gotten under my skin and now she was in my bloodstream. I could kick myself for the way I treated her this morning and on our drive back to the city. Moreover, I should have asked for her side of the story when it came to the pool incident. But foolishly, I didn’t. Instead, I gave her the silent treatment and dropped her off at her apartment like she was nothing more than a FedEx package. My heart pinched as I remorsefully looked into my rearview mirror. And then it skipped a beat. Crossing the fabled street behind me was Sarah, still in my sundress and wearing those funky boots she wore when I first met her.

  Crap. There was no way to stop the car as the traffic, as light as it was, was moving, and there was no place to pull over. And I couldn’t turn to go around the block as the next street went one-way. The wrong way. West to east. And Sarah was at the southeast corner behind me heading west by foot. Taking a chance, I turned onto the next street I could hoping to catch up with her. But, shit, wouldn’t you know it…I turned right into an accident. A goddamn fender bender between two cabs. The two drivers were out of their vehicles in the middle of the street yelling at each other. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. The street was blocked and I couldn’t budge. Impatient and frustrated, I honked my horn, but it was futile. I was stuck here until the two idiots moved their cabs. Part of me thought about throwing the Bentley into park, hopping out of it, and running after my princess. But rationality got the better of me; leaving my $100,000 dollar car unattended wasn’t a bright idea. Clenching my steering wheel, I exhaled loudly and cursed under my breath, taking in my surroundings.

  And then I saw it. A small specialty shop sandwiched between a Greek diner and a dry cleaner. And it was open. Serendipity…my mother’s favorite word.

  Twenty long, frustrating minutes later, I was racing back uptown with my purchase.

  Sarah said
she liked toys. Well, she was definitely going to like this one.

  At the next red light, my cock honked at me. It was ready to make up with Sarah and play.

  Sarah

  Ari knocked again, his jewel blue eye shining through the peephole and meeting mine. Both my heart and mind were racing. How on earth did he get into the building? Mrs. Blumberg? Did he somehow make a set of my keys? All these questions swirled around my head, but the one that needed answering first was: What the hell was he doing here?

  Tidying my ponytail, I unbolted the door and then swung it open. Still clad in his jeans and T-shirt, all six-foot-three of his gorgeousness stood before me, wearing a wicked grin. He looked as dazzling as ever and it took all I had to control myself. My heart was thudding so loudly I could hear it. Don’t let him get to you, Sarah.

  Maintaining a poker face, I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you want?”

  “I came to apologize.” His eyes burnt into mine. “I’m sorry, my pretty princess, about some of my behavior this weekend.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” I said though my inner thought balloon was bursting to say, “Yes, you do, you jerk, and don’t call me your ‘pretty princess.’”

  “I had a lot on my mind.”

  “Did you solve your business crisis?” I asked, steering away from the events of the weekend.

  He nodded. “It solved itself. I didn’t have to make a trip to our factory in Hoboken.”

  “That’s good,” I replied, wondering how he’d spent the last few hours in the city.

  “I’ve bought you something to make up for the way I treated you.”

  For the first time, I noticed he was carrying a small shopping bag. Now what had he bought me? I felt wary about taking expensive gifts from him. If that’s the way he thought he could worm his way back into my heart, he was wrong. He was in my heart…my thudding heart. He’d never left it. Every nerve in my body was buzzing at the sight of him, especially the cluster between my pantyless legs. Despite his foibles, I was hopelessly attracted to this pillar of virile perfection like a moth to a flame.

  “What is it?” I asked suspiciously, my gaze back on his face.

  Again, that cocky grin spread across his lush lips; he was melting me. “A toy. I think you’ll like it.”

  My eyes fell to the bag again. I didn’t recognize the name of the toyshop—The Pleasure Trove. Maybe a new store had recently opened up.

  He flicked the tip of my nose with the forefinger of his free hand. “Are you going to let me in, Saarah?”

  Oh! The way he said my name! And just the tiniest touch from him sent me spinning with desire. My body was warring with my mind. My mind said: “Go fuck yourself!” My body screamed: “Fuck me!” Guess what was winning.

  “Fine.” I flung the word at him.

  With a smug smile, he marched into my apartment as if he owned it, taking long strides toward the couch. I trailed behind him, my eyes glued to his perfect glutes.

  Before either of us sat down, he pulled out a colorful cellophane-wrapped package from the bag. I glimpsed the name of the toy and said it to myself.

  Sparky. The Vibrating Magic Wand.

  “Okay, so you want me to wave this thingie and make magic?”

  My voice dripped with sarcasm. What was he thinking? All right. He did know I worked for a toy company and loved toys. So, maybe this was his way of being thoughtful.

  “Kind of.” He smirked. “It’s for your pussy…”

  A cat toy for Jo-Jo? The last time he was here, he and the cat really got along. In fact, Jo-Jo was meowing and brushing against his ankles as we stood in the living room.

  I quirked a small, awkward smile. “That’s really thoughtful of you, Ari, to buy my cat a toy.”

  To my shock, he burst into hysterical laughter. “Saarah…Saarah…Saarah…”

  “What?” I snapped, heating as if he was mocking me.

  “Saarah, it’s a fucking vibrator.”

  I didn’t have time to process his words. In one swift move, he scooped me up in his bronzed, brawny arms, set me down on the couch, and lifted up my dress, exposing my crotch. Smiling, he was obviously pleased I wasn’t wearing panties. He caressed my cluster of silky curls, his fingertips brushing along my hypersensitive clit.

  “Princess, I love that you’re so ready for your new toy and you’re even so wet.”

  Wet? That was an understatement. My pussy was swimming in my juices.

  Wide-eyed, turned-on, and nervous as shit, I watched as he removed Sparky from the box and handed it to me. I studied it. It did resemble a sparkling toy wand—in fact, one that Ike’s Tikes manufactured that was very popular with little girls.

  “Saarah, I want to watch you play with yourself,” he said, his voice deep and sexy.

  I was having a mini-panic attack. If I understood correctly, he wanted me to put this big girl magic wand to my pussy. I bit down on my bottom lip as he dug his other hand into a jeans pocket.

  “This will make it more fun for you.”

  My pulse in my ears, I watched as he pulled out a small plastic package that was marked “Lubricating Gel.” He tore it open with his teeth and squirted the contents on the head of Sparky. He then flicked the “on” button, and it began to buzz. As I began to buzz with anticipation, his velvet voice rose above the loud hum.

  “Now, let’s get you set up.”

  On my next breath, he straddled my left leg over the arm of the couch and then bent the right one on the cushion. He guided my hand to my very exposed, very wet, quivering pussy, and I let out a little yelp as he helped me apply the surprisingly warm vibrator to my clit. Applying firm pressure, he moved the tip around it in small circles. I moaned. Oh my God! It was what his fingers could do to my magic button, multiplied many, many times.

  “Okay, princess, it’s playtime for you.”

  He let go of the vibrator allowing me to take over. I played with the toy, gliding it up and down my slick folds and then, after I was done exploring, placed it back on my clit. I could feel my temperature rising as my raging pussy fluttered with the intense pleasure I was giving myself. Strange erotic sounds escaped from my throat.

  Ari loomed over me, his arms folded across his taut chest and his eyes trained on my pussy. A diabolical smile played on his lips, and as my eyes traveled down his body, they almost jumped out of their sockets. A huge bulge was threatening to burst through his fly. Holy shit! I was turning him on as I turned myself on.

  Within minutes, the ultra-intense pressure, beyond anything I’d ever felt down there before, became unbearable. Flinging back my head, I squeezed my eyes shut and whimpered. I wanted to stop but forced myself to continue. I was buzzing my way to ecstasy.

  “Saarah, are you having fun?”

  I was in no state to respond. I was peaking. Combusting with orgasmic pleasure. Shrieking with euphoric relief.

  “Princess, now it’s my turn to play with you.”

  Oh no, don’t take away my toy! I’ve been a good girl!

  I was in no condition to fight him as he pried away the vibrator and rolled me over. Still stunned by my out of this world orgasm, I was now on my tummy, my pelvic bones and elbows propping me up. In one smooth move, he spread my legs and bent them upward so that the soles of my feet faced the ceiling.

  Sparky descended on my clit once again, and my back arched sharply as if I were doing an upward dog yoga pose. My neck was so taut I thought it would snap. My muscles clenched as I built toward another earth-shattering climax. Oh God! How much more stimulation could my clit take?

  “Come for me, baby,” I heard my playmate breathe out.

  I was so close I could almost taste it. The throbbing was insufferable until finally my bubble burst again with such orgasmic force I shuddered. As I cried out my climax, I felt the weight of his body on mine. His knees, straddled, pressed into my hips and his palms pressed over the backs of my hands. I couldn’t move as he nuzzled my neck.

  “Playtime isn’t over yet, my
sweet toy.”

  Removing the vibrator, he powered his magic wand inside me. Oh my God! He was so hard! So hot! So deep!

  “Oh, Saarah,” he rasped as he drove his thick length in and out of me with velocity and ferocity. “It’s so much fun to play with you.”

  As my clit continued to pulse, his forceful fullness awoke every fiber of my being. Each time he sank his cock back into me, I flexed my hips to meet his thrust, deepening the pleasure not only for me but also for him. Ari groaned loudly as I shrieked at the top of my lungs. I buried my face into the couch to muffle my sounds, fearful that if Mrs. Blumberg heard them she would think I was in danger and call 911. Which maybe wasn’t a bad idea because I honestly thought I was going to die from his ruthless assault.

  “Now, baby!” he ordered as he rammed his length once more into my magic spot.

  Accompanied by a long, loud grunt, his cock convulsed, spurting hotly into the depth of my core. As his spasms rocked my quivering walls, wave after wave of ecstasy swept through me with reckless abandon. They kept coming and coming. My whole body shook under the weight of his torso. I could hear myself moan as he collapsed on top of me.

  Hoarsely, he whispered into my ear, “Oh, my princess.”

  His head crashed onto my back as his body, a dead weight, lay splayed atop mine. Slowly, he pulled out of me and then mustered the strength to stand up. Wasted, I forced myself to roll over and sit up. I drank in his face. He looked totally spent yet so breathtakingly sexy—his eyes, heavy and hooded…his hair, a wild tousled mess…and his mouth, a parted, kissable vestibule for taking in air. He met my gaze and we said it in unison: “Holy fuck.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he managed, a few ragged breaths later.

  He staggered to the kitchen and then returned with a moist dishtowel. My eyes stayed fixed on him as he cleaned himself up and slipped on his jeans. I just never got tired of looking at this gorgeous specimen of mankind. My beautiful Trainman.