No panties. No bra. No surprise.
Returning to my quarters, the first thing I did was call my mother again. Fortunately, this time she picked up. I inwardly sighed with relief. Though she sounded weary, it was good to hear her voice. I told her I was at the beach; she was pleased to hear that I was enjoying myself. I didn’t tell her I was spending the weekend with a stranger I met on a train. After I said goodbye to her, I immediately called Mrs. Blumberg and asked her to feed Jo-Jo. She had a spare set of keys to my apartment, allowing her access. Of course, the busybody wanted to know where I was. I told her I was visiting a girlfriend. She didn’t believe me and went on about the dangers of going away with men you didn’t know. “Didn’t you read in the papers about that poor girl who got stabbed to death by some meshuganah she met on the Internet?” Rolling my eyes, I told her to stop worrying, that I was fine.
I thanked her for taking care of Jo-Jo and hastily bid the naysayer goodbye. It was time to get ready for the party. I stripped off my clothes and headed to the bathroom.
The shower—with its state-of-the-art massage showerhead—was divine. But lonely. As the hot, pulsing water poured over me, kneading my muscles, I fantasized about Ari sharing the shower with me. Closing my eyes, I arched my head. I could see his face—those sexy, sapphire eyes—and feel his hard body against mine, his hands soaping me up all over. The space between my inner thighs ached for his thick length. And the stroke of his long fingers.
Craving his stimulation, I rubbed my soapy hand over my mound—stimulating my clit just like he did it. Pleasure? I wasn’t sure. I needed to come, and the only way I could was by imagining him. The orgasm came quickly, but not with the magnitude, endurance, or insane ecstasy he could give me. I was only placating myself, compensating for the emptiness I felt inside me. Masturbation had its place but not its glory.
As I dried myself with a thick, fluffy towel, my cell phone rang. Letting the towel fall to the tile floor, I ran out of the bathroom stark naked, thinking maybe something bad had happened to my mother. When it came to my mother, my mind always jumped to the worst-case scenario.
Hands shaking, I picked up the phone, which I’d left on the nightstand in the bedroom. The caller ID said “unknown caller” which freaked me out more. Maybe it was a doctor from the hospital calling.
“Hello,” I said, my voice quivering.
“Sarah.”
I recognized the shrill voice immediately. A sigh of relief was followed by a huff of disgust. It was my demanding boss—Catherine Sinclair. Why the hell was she calling me on a Sunday night, let alone a three-day weekend? I scrunched up my face as she continued.
“I’m just checking in to make sure you booked my trip to Nuremberg for the International Toy Fair.”
“All done,” I lied through clenched teeth. The damn Toy Fair was over a year away.
“And I can assume you got me first-class tickets and a suite at The Four Seasons?”
“Yes.” Sheesh!
“I want to extend the trip. After the convention ends, I want to go to Milan to do a little shopping. So be sure to add that to your ‘To Do’ list.”
“I assume you’ll want to stay at The Four Seasons?”
“Seriously, do you really have to ask? I don’t like it when you waste my time.”
And I don’t like it when you waste mine, I seethed silently.
“I will email you a list of the designers with whom I want you to book appointments. And while I’m there, I want to visit my hairdresser, Adolpho, so squeeze that in too. I expect everything to be taken care of by the time I walk into the office on Tuesday.”
“Of course.” Seriously?
“That’ll give you plenty to do over the rest of the weekend.”
My blood curdled. I already had plenty to do over the rest of the weekend and it had nothing to do with work. Or her.
“Are we clear?”
“Yes,” I mumbled.
“Good.” Once again without thanking me, she ended the call.
God, I hated working for this skanky bitch. She was a total slave driver—and an incompetent one—with no appreciation for all I did for her. There was only one saving grace. A least it was a job taking me one step closer to my dream of creating toys that would give joy to boys and girls. If only that could happen sooner than later.
Seething mad, I set my cell phone back on the nightstand and inhaled a deep breath to let go of the rage that was spiraling inside me. As I got dressed, my head spun at the prospect of going to a party in the Hamptons with my Trainman and the night ahead.
###♥###
It was only a five-minute drive to the gated oceanfront house where the party was taking place. Unlike Ari’s New England-style cottage, this one was a spectacular Downton Abbey-like brick manor house surrounded by formal gardens, greenhouses, and stables. After valeting the Bentley, we were led to the vast backyard. About two hundred people sipping cocktails milled about. They were all perfectly tanned and chicly dressed, the women mostly wearing sophisticated sleeveless dresses and the men in jackets. Everyone oozed sex and money, and I felt out of place in my jeans and T-shirt.
As we ambled through the crowd, Ari turned heads. He was wearing white linen drawstring pants and a V-neck T-shirt that showed off his bronzed skin and biceps. I swear every woman was looking at him although Ari seemed oblivious to their stares. Holding his hand did not alleviate my anxiousness. Who knew better than me the effect this heart-stopping sex god could have.
“There’s my client,” said Ari, glancing to the right. “I need to spend some time with him.”
Breaking loose of my hand, he strutted in the direction of a debonair, silver-haired man clad in khakis and a navy blue blazer.
Please don’t leave me. I felt intimidated, surrounded by all these beautiful people I didn’t know and who were definitely way out of my league.
Ari needs a woman who is mature and independent. Ari’s sister’s words whirled around in my head. Okay, Sarah, plain and tall, be a big girl and mingle.
I snagged an hors d’oeuvre from one of the white-gloved waiters who were passing them around and strolled over to the bar. Maybe a glass of wine would loosen me up.
“I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay over ice,” I told the bartender.
“Sarah!”
My eyes popped. The raspy voice behind me was familiar. So familiar. Holding my wine, I spun around. Standing in my face was my best friend Lauren, dressed to the nines in a tight strapless dress that hugged her curves and matched her six-inch-high strappy stilettos.
We hugged and said it at the same time: “What are you doing here?”
I let Lauren answer first. “This is Taylor’s parents’ house. Remember, I told you they were throwing an impromptu cocktail party to celebrate our engagement?”
Some “impromptu party.” With the white-gloved staff and elegant décor, it looked like it had taken months to plan. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the scope of Lauren’s wedding as she asked for a glass of champagne.
Taking a sip of the bubbly, she flashed an auspicious grin. “And I bet you’re here with—”
“Yes, Ari,” I said, cutting her off. And then I remembered that Taylor’s father owned the largest chain of drug stores in the country. Of course, he must be one of Ari’s biggest clients.
“You’re next,” beamed my BFF, flaunting her boulder-sized engagement ring. The diamond sparkled under the moonlit sky.
I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my wine while Lauren chugged her champagne.
“Listen, I’ve got to go and spend some time with Taylor’s parents’ friends. I’ll catch up with you later. I want to hear everything.”
She sauntered off, strutting in her mile-high heels as if she were born wearing them. In the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Ari. My heart skipped a beat and my wine glass almost slipped from my hand. He was talking to a gorgeous blonde, who looked like she could be a movie star. One of his women? Or someone he just met and was hitting on? A mix
ture of jealousy and anger ripped through me. I thought about marching up to them—“Oh, hi, I’m Sarah, Ari’s girlfriend”—and then refrained. First of all, I wasn’t Ari’s girlfriend (I’d known him for all of forty-eight hours) and secondly, maybe I was jumping the gun and letting my insecurity take hold of me. Maybe she was just an acquaintance. Or an old friend. I was nonetheless miffed that he had left me alone, stranded for such a long time, and was ignoring me. Maybe he was testing me. To see how independent I was. To see if I could survive his crowd of movers and shakers.
And then, just as I got a grip, he took her in his arms and smacked a hot kiss on her lips. I’d seen enough. Draining my wine, I fled and thought about calling a cab. But where would I go? I sure as hell didn’t want to go back to his house and have an ugly confrontation with Gwen. Then, I thought about the train station we’d passed on our drive but doubted trains were running back to the city on a Sunday night in the middle of a holiday weekend. And I certainly couldn’t afford a cab ride into Manhattan. Right now, I just needed to be alone. With tears brimming in my eyes, I escaped the party, running aimlessly through the vast property, passing formal gardens, a tennis court, guesthouses, a pond with swans, and ending up at the pool area. The shimmering pool was surrounded by chaise lounges and off to the right was a lit-up pavilion.
Emotionally drained, I leaned against the pavilion and gazed up at the starry sky. As clear as the night was, I was in a thick fog. Yes, here I was at a glamorous party in the Hamptons with a gorgeous billionaire that I’d met only a couple of days ago, but I was just arm candy. As exciting as my life had been since I met him, loneliness and apprehension assaulted me. Even jealousy and insecurity came out of hiding. He had fucked a lot of women. I was just one of them. This man did not want commitment. And I, Sarah Greene, did not want to get hurt.
For all I knew, he would be going home with the stunning blond tonight. Maybe not fucking her in his bed, but fucking her somewhere. He was a player and that’s what players did. Tears pricked my eyes as I watched a shooting star rocket across the darkening sky. I didn’t need this. I had too much on my plate as it was, between my ailing mother and my demanding job. Before the weekend was over—maybe even tonight if I had the chance—I was going to end it. Tell him the truth that this “relationship” wasn’t right for me, that I needed more…someone who adored me and could be supportive, get me through this challenging time. Unbearable sadness swept over me. Who was I trying to fool? I was smitten by this man. Helplessly, hopelessly falling in love with him. And his little son. The timing was all wrong; that’s what it was. Fate fucked me over when I ended up sitting next to him on the train. As much as I longed to be in his arms, it just wasn’t meant to be. The tears that were threatening to fall could no longer be held back.
As I brushed them away, a familiar man’s voice startled me. “Hey, babe. Fancy meeting you here.”
I turned my head. My bleary eyes squinted at the husky male form about twenty feet away. It was Lauren’s fiancé Taylor, staggering toward me with a drink in his hand. His eyes were glazed, his lids hooded. He was drunk. Very drunk. I had seen him this way before way too many times.
“Watch’ya doing here, Sarah?” he mumbled as he stumbled up to me, slurring each word.
“I’ve got to go…head back to the party.” I hurried the words, pondering an exit strategy.
“What’s the rush, sweetheart?”
Before I could take a step, he pinned me hard against the stucco of the poolside pavilion. His hips pressing tightly against mine, he leaned into me. His warm breath reeked of alcohol. Whiskey? Gin? Vermouth? I was no expert.
“You look fucking hot tonight,” he breathed into my face, his fetid breath nauseating me.
I tried to wiggle myself free of him, but even in his drunken state, ex-football star, Taylor Hodges IV, was too strong for me.
His lips parted, and I was prepared for the worst as they moved in close to mine. Ugh! He was kissing me, his slobbering mouth all over mine. I squirmed as his tongue darted out and forced my lips to part. It rolled around my palate, its foul taste making me feel even more nauseated than I already was. His hands groped my breasts as his hips gyrated into mine. A hard bulge, growing between his thighs, dug into me through his chinos. I continued to resist him, but the more I struggled, the more forceful he became. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. Oh God, get him off me.
“What the fuck?”
I knew that voice too. Ari! Oh God, what was he going to think?
In one swift move, he yanked Taylor away from me, sending his cocktail tumbler crashing to the ground.
“Hey dude, chill,” slurred Taylor.
Fury was blazing in Ari’s eyes. Balling his fist, he socked Taylor in the face, sending him to his knees.
“Hey man, what was that for?” winced Taylor, blood pouring from his nose.
“For the same reason I’m doing this, motherfucker.”
I cringed as Ari kicked him hard in the gut. Taylor clutched his stomach and groaned as Ari grabbed me by the elbow and jerked me away.
“I’m away from you for fifteen minutes, and you wander off with some asshole?” Rage mounted with every word.
“I can explain.” My voice shook.
“Remember, speak only when spoken to.”
Reducing me to silence with his harsh words, I hung my head low as we headed back to the party. Inside, I was fuming.
“We’re out of here,” he thundered, gripping my hand so hard it hurt.
He was moving so fast I could barely keep up with him. Unsteady in my platforms, I thought for sure I would twist an ankle. On the way out, I passed by Lauren. Engaged in conversation, she shot me a wink. I twitched back a fake, fleeting smile. My heart sank to my stomach. Did she know what a jerk her fiancé was? I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell her what happened. Especially when she was riding so high. When my emotions settled, I’d think about it more.
###♥###
Ari and I shared a stretch of tense silence on the way back to his house. His mouth was pressed into a hard, angry line, and he didn’t look once at me. Finally, I had enough.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” I barked.
Silence.
“That jerk—Taylor Hodges IV—FYI, the son of your beloved client—is my best friend Lauren’s fiancé, and he hit on me.
Silence. His eyes narrowed. My nerves were little electrical pulses ready to explode. I was getting nowhere with him. This guy’s level of trust, on a scale of one to ten, was a minus twenty. A good part of me wanted to jump out of the car and hitch a ride back into the city.
With a sharp turn, the Bentley flew through the electronic gate of his estate as it opened. He sped down the pebble path that led to the house. The car came to a screeching halt in front of the shingled structure, and I hastily jumped out, not waiting for any I’m-a-gentleman door opening.
“I’m going to sleep,” I huffed. “And in the morning, I’ll be taking the train back to the city.” I stalked off in my platforms. He could keep them and everything else he bought me.
“Sarah, wait!” I heard a desperate voice call out.
Screw him. Without slowing down, I turned my head as he hopped the Bentley and then picked up my pace as he sprinted my way. Dammit. If only I could walk faster in these wedge sandals. Catching up to me in no time, he grabbed my shoulders, stopping me in my tracks, and then spun me around.
“Princess, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I fucked up.”
Before I could say a word, he hauled me against him and crushed his velvety lips into mine. It was an all-encompassing kiss, full of tongue, passion, and remorse. I was melting like a candle, dripping with desire. I could not stay mad at this man. This god.
Slowly, he pulled away. My lips ached for more. My body ached for more. I wrapped my arms around his hard body, the way his were wrapped around mine, and leaned my head against his concrete chest. I closed my eyes. The waves in the distance lolled as he let me enjoy his warmth.
He clasped my hand from behind. “Come, Saarah, let’s take a walk on the beach. We need to talk.”
Hand in hand, we headed down to the beach in silence. Upon hitting the sand, we both kicked off our shoes. The sand was now cool and soothing beneath my soles. Ari wrapped a strong arm around me while I rested my head against his shoulder as we strolled.
The night couldn’t be more perfect. The temperature was still mild, and a myriad of stars danced around the full moon. The black as the night ocean was at low tide, the white-crested waves gently ebbing in and out.
“I’m sorry I acted that way with your friend’s fiancé,” said Ari, breaking the silence.
“He deserved it. Thanks for coming to my rescue.” Once again, he had been my heroic Power Ranger although not well intentioned.
“He’ll probably tell his father and I’ll lose my biggest account.” He shrugged, kicking up some sand.
“Nah. Macho Taylor would never tell a soul, including his father, that he got beat up.”
“Are you going to tell your friend?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s so in love with him. Maybe it was just an act of drunken folly.” Although I knew damn well, this was not the first time Taylor had cheated on Lauren.
We stopped to look at the peaceful ocean and then, releasing my hand, he turned me around to face him. Tenderly, he tilted up my chin and looked into my eyes. “And I’m sorry I came down on you so hard.”
I twitched a little forgiving smile. “It’s okay. You didn’t know what was really going on.”
His eyes stayed on me. “Do you believe in love, Saarah?”
His question struck a deep chord inside me. I nodded. “Yes.” The way Tony unconditionally loved Maria in West Side Story. “What about you?”
He took a shaky breath. “I used to. I’m not sure anymore.”
Ah, the emotional scar left behind by his ex-wife. I yearned to tell him that scars can fade. Even my mother’s broken heart had mended after my father deserted her.
“Did your father love your mother?” I asked.
TRAINWRECK 1: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Inspired by a True Event Page 13
