As the train picked up speed, I struggled to keep my balance and open the sliding door to the next car. Using all the muscle power I could muster, I finally yanked it open and stumbled into the cabin. This car was different than the one before. It was far more spacious and deluxe. Roomy pairs of rich brown leather seats lined the aisles, and the well-dressed occupants were sipping cocktails in real glasses while toying with the latest electronic gadgets. This was obviously business-class. I sure as hell did not belong here wearing my T.J. Maxx midi skirt and cheap T-shirt. Oh yeah, and my scuffed up boots, which I’d found at a flea market. This was the cabin where Louis Vuittons, Jimmy Choos, and Chanels mingled with other LVs, Choos, and Cocos. No, I didn’t belong here. Not one bit.
Fighting the speed of the train and my embarrassment, I clumsily zigzagged down the aisle, occasionally grabbing onto the corner of a seat for balance. Like the previous cabin, every seat was taken. No one seemed to notice me, but truthfully, I wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. As I neared the back of the car, the train jerked, sending me flying into the lap of a Wall Street Journal-reading commuter to my left.
“I’m so sorry,” I squeaked at my victim, whose face was still buried in his newspaper.
He flexed his powerful thigh muscles under my butt, signaling for me to get up, and then slowly lowered his newspaper. A smirk curled on his lips. Oh, those lips! My heart leaped into my throat. Adonis!
“Sit,” he said, motioning to the empty window seat next to his.
“Um, uh, I’m in economy,” I stuttered, my eyes unable to leave his face, no matter how humiliated I felt. Up close, he was even more beautiful than I imagined with his chiseled nose, strong, angular jaw, and piercing eyes the color of sapphires.
“Don’t worry; I’ll handle it,” he replied with a wink.
Holy shit! Adonis had just winked at me!
“Sit,” he growled, this time as if it were an order.
With a powerful heave of his knees, he bounced me to my feet, forcing me to plop down next to him.
Holy shit again! I was going to spend the next hour and a half sitting next to this gorgeous man—a man that existed only in my dreams—and now I had no idea what to say. My heart pounded.
“What’s your name?” he asked, his tone challenging.
“Sarah,” I replied, pulling myself together in time to reply in a very business-like voice.
“Saarah.”
The sultry way he repeated my name—drawing out the first syllable with a breathy lilt—sent a chill down my spine. I couldn’t help thinking of my favorite song from my favorite movie, West Side Story. Say it soft and it’s almost like praying.
“Ari,” he said next, not giving me time to ask the obvious.
A fitting name. Almost like Ares, the Greek god of war. This man was a warrior. A beautiful warrior. And I was soon to find out that conquest was his middle name.
“Um, very nice to meet you.”
I held out my slender hand to shake his. My heart thudding in my chest, I truthfully didn’t know what else to say or do. His long, tan fingers entwined with mine. His grip was strong. Powerful. Slowly, he raised my hand to his lush lips. Blood rushed to my head as they pressed ever so gently against the back of my palm. One by one, he unfolded my fingers, sucking each one as if they were candy sticks. A layer of his warm saliva glistened on my fingertips. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and wetness pooled between my thighs. What the hell was he doing? And why the hell was I letting him do it?
My heart was racing as fast as the speeding train. I needed to stop this. Move to another seat. My eyes darted around the cabin, but there were still none to be had. No one seemed to notice what was going on; they either had their faces buried in newspapers or books or were occupied with their iPhones, iPads, or Kindles.
This was just not right. I was sitting next to a complete stranger and letting him suck my fingers. He could be a total whack job… molester…or serial killer. Who knew? Though my fear was fleeting, I made up a desperate clichéd excuse.
“Um, uh excuse me. I need to use the restroom.” Actually, I really did. I needed to get away from this mysterious, seductive stranger and get a grip.
“It’s at the front of the cabin,” said Adonis dryly, returning to his newspaper.
I leaped up from my seat. Tripping over my bag, I caught a glimpse of Trainman’s amused expression. He refused to move his long legs, forcing my butt to brush against them as I made my escape. I couldn’t get to the bathroom soon enough or fast enough.
CHAPTER 3
Ari
Up close and personal, she was more attractive than I could even fathom. Geeky in a very sexy way. Someone so different than my normal type. And she seemed unpretentious, so down to earth. Not one woman I dated fell into this category. They were too stuck on themselves and too stuck on me. This Sarah intrigued me. And I’ll admit it, aroused me. Sucking her fingers, I could taste her and she tasted delicious. That perfect combination of sweet and salty. My cock strained against my fly. It had been a quite a while.
My eyes stayed on her as she staggered down the aisle, the speed of the train forcing her to clutch the edges of seats and walk in a zigzag line. Her tight little ass swayed side to side with each step, but I’m sure she had no clue how sexy she was. So fucking sexy. So fucking cute. Given the drab outfit she was wearing along with those worn out clunker boots, I was positive she was wearing practical cotton panties that came up almost to her belly, and while I was a total lace man, the skimpier the better, I found that image surprisingly sexy. Everything about her said warrior: Dare and try to get into my pants. There was nothing I loved more than a challenge. I could handle her. Melting panties was one of my talents.
My cock grew hard to the point of throbbing. “What are you waiting for?” I heard it cry out to me.
I heard you. As she disappeared from sight, I stood up and followed her down the aisle. I had no idea what trouble I was getting myself into.
CHAPTER 4
Sarah
The door to the unisex lavatory located at the back of the cabin was locked. That meant someone was inside. I tapped my foot impatiently, my head filling with the image of the blond, blue-eyed Adonis sitting next to me. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? These kinds of things never happened to geeky me. They were the stuff of novels and movies. Not my mundane all-work-no-play life.
“Hi.”
A familiar velvety voice catapulted me out of my thoughts, and a waft of warm breath blew across the nape of my neck. I spun around and gasped. My mysterious stranger! His crisp blue eyes burned into mine, making my temperature soar and my bones turn to liquid. What was he doing here? I suppose he had to go. I couldn’t stop that.
I turned my head away, and stared squarely at the bathroom door, praying silently that whoever was in there would hurry up. As I stood as stiff as a board, my breathtaking companion blew hot air on my neck again and wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing me tight against his rock-hard body. A warm, hard bulge pressed against my buttocks. I was all twisted up with nerves and might need the bathroom more than I’d originally thought.
Finally, the door burst open in my face; a sour-faced matron barged out. Calling on every muscle in my body, I broke free of Trainman’s grip and hastily dashed inside. My hands shaky, I fumbled to slide the latch, but before I could get it through the lock, the door forcefully swung open.
“I couldn’t wait,” Trainman muttered, pushing me against the edge of the sink as he deftly latched the door. His hips pressed tightly against mine. I was trapped.
He leaned in close to me. A mix of his warm, minty breath and expensive cologne with its musky scent rushed up my nose. His eyes narrowed, turning into collectible slivers of blue sea glass. His mouth descended on the right side of my neck then slowly trailed upward to my earlobe. He clamped his warm, soft lips on the cartilage, alternating between nipping and sucking it. Oh my God! I didn’t know my earlobes could feel so much. The last time they fel
t anything was when I got them pierced in eighth grade. And that was pain. Pure pain. Now what I was feeling was bliss. Pure, tingly bliss…and the sensation was coursing through my entire body.
Still pressing me hard against the sink with his hipbones, he pinched my nipples between his thumbs and index fingers and then began twirling them in small circles, each rotation deeper than the one before. Magically, the delicate buds puckered and peaked beneath my cotton tee. A new I-want-to-burst-out-of-my skin sensation gathered in the triangle between my legs. It was if my tits and clit were connected by a power cord. I moaned softly.
“You don’t wear a bra,” he murmured in my ear.
I rarely wore a bra because I really didn’t need one. My boobs never got past a small A-cup, the size of old-fashioned champagne saucers. Before I could respond, that is if I could say something, he whispered one word.
“Sexy.”
Me, Sarah, plain and tall, sexy? And this coming from this gorgeous beast? Pinch me. I must be dreaming this entire fantasy. As if on cue, he pinched one of my nipples again. My girl bits roared in delight. No, this was real. And it was happening to me. Sarah Greene. Art school graduate. Aspiring toy designer. Twenty-five-year-old virgin.
I stared at his breathtaking face. His eyes were on me. The cocky smile on his lips both aroused and unnerved me. While one hand continued to twirl a nipple, the other slid down my torso past my tight, twisted abdomen and under the elastic waistbands of both my skirt and pantyhose. His hands felt like hot velvet as they explored my inner thighs.
“Hmm,” he purred. “No panties?”
I never wore panties with pantyhose. Why bother? They were called pantyhose for a reason. And I confess, not buying expensive panties—and bras—saved me a lot of money. Money I needed desperately to visit my mother.
“Very sexy,” he said, enunciating each syllable, as his fingertips made their way to the triangle between my legs. They stopped to caress my mound, stroking it as if it were a beloved pussy…cat.
“So soft and silky,” Trainman purred again as if I were auditioning for one of those bouncy hair Pantene commercials.
After a tug of a curled clump, his fingers crawled to the sensitive folds between my legs. They explored this new territory eagerly like someone who was searching for gold. And then he discovered it. The nugget. Greedily, he rubbed the pad of this thumb around his discovery with intense little circles that were driving me insane. I squirmed against the sink as a loud moan escaped my lips.
“Do you like this?” he asked, picking up his pace and applying more pressure.
“It feels good.”
That was an understatement. Holy cow! It felt amazing! Buzzing with intense pleasure, I wanted to jump out of my skin. My eyes caught a glimpse of him. A wicked smile crossed his magnificent face, and his piercing blue eyes glistened.
“Saarah, I can’t help myself,” his voice all hot and breathy. “I want you.”
And despite myself, I wanted him. So badly, I was panting like a dog in heat.
“I want to fuck you senseless. Will you let me?”
“Yeah, cool.” Cool? What was wrong with me? I was anything but cool. I was a total hot mess, who couldn’t add one and one.
A pleased, sexy as sin smile played on his face. Still massaging my clit with his thumb, he plunged his long thick middle finger inside me. I gasped, not prepared for the shock of penetration. Shockwaves spread through my body as his finger slid up and down the soaked walls, each thrust deeper than the one before.
“Jesus,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking hot and wet for me. And you’re as tight as a virgin.”
I gulped. Should I tell him? Was I supposed to? Or would this confession turn him off? As I contemplated what to do, he continued his ministrations, pumping me harder.
Dripping with my own wet heat, I gasped again, still not sure this was really happening. My core was aching for more. Desperate for it. Why was I not resisting?
“I’m going to take you now,” he bit out.
Take me where? I didn’t want to be anywhere, any place but here in this cramped bathroom with this sinfully sexy mysterious sorcerer who was doing his magic on me.
Using his free hand, he yanked down both my skirt and hose. My eyes glanced down at my skirt puddled on the floor and my pantyhose scrunched up above my scuffed up boots. His hand made its way back up, and I heard him unzip his fly. My gaze stopped short at a massive hunk of pink, veined flesh that was aimed at my crotch. Yowzer! I was ready to surrender. Yes, take me now.
“Sit on the sink,” he ordered as he expertly rolled on a latex condom that seemed to come out of nowhere.
I was in no condition to argue. I plunked my buttocks down on the edge of the shiny basin. The cold metal gave me goosebumps all over. Wasting no time, he tugged off my boots, without untying them, and then slipped off the hose.
“Now, spread your legs.”
Yes, sir.
He splayed his large hands on my narrow hips to anchor me. An intensity washed over his face. Like an artist who was contemplating painting his masterpiece.
“Now, Saarah, take me and insert me where you want me.”
Holy shit! He wanted me to touch that monstrosity. Cradle it in my hands? Our eyes met, mine wide-eyed with fear and excitement, his hooded with determination and desire.
Hesitantly, I curled my trembling fingers around the pillar of flesh, surprised that they could circle around it despite its girth. I’d never felt a man’s cock before. The touch beneath my fingers was hot, velvety, and pulsing with energy. Burning with desire, I knew exactly where I wanted it. The hollowness inside me was crying out for it. I needed to be sated by him. Totally consumed.
My fingers on fire, I angled his cock toward the opening between my legs and put the wide crown to my entrance. I suddenly had second thoughts. Shit. Was his mammoth erection going to fit inside me? I silently shuddered. What if it didn’t fit? And even if it did, would I know what to do? As much as I wanted him, I was so not prepared for this. My heart stuttered at the thought of letting down this sex god. Of being a failure. And then regretting my actions. This was so not how I envisioned losing my V-card. I dreamt about being swept away by the man of my dreams. But he was the man of my dreams. Should I tell him I was a virgin?
“Saarah…”
Okay. I was going to tell him the truth. He needed to know.
But on my next heated breath, he stopped me, fierce like a freight train on its mission. With a sharp thrust, he jettisoned his enormous erection deep inside me. I winced. The initial pain and shock of his penetration was enough to make me almost fall off the sink, or into it, but as my muscles relaxed, it felt amazing. Like it belonged and had found its home sweet home.
“Christ, I just can’t believe how tight you are. It feels so fucking amazing.”
Rolling his tongue over his lips, he lifted me off the sink basin so that we were almost face-to-face. My feet dangled like a rag doll’s not touching the floor below.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered, holding me firmly.
In no condition to argue, I did what he said, wrapping my long legs around his lean torso like a pretzel. He gripped my hips. My arms swung around his neck, and I hung on to him tightly, clasping the rich fabric of his suit jacket between my fingers. This was one ride I did not want to fall off.
With me in this position, clinging to him, he took a couple steps to back me against a wall and then with a grunt, shoved his rock-hard cock deeper into me. I gasped with a mixture of shock and ecstasy as the tip rammed against a hypersensitive spot I never knew I had. He groaned. He slid his rod nearly out and then thrust it back in, this time hitting the spot even harder. I moaned. He groaned. He repeated the pattern, speeding it up with every forceful thrust. How could that giant thing between his legs fit so easily and comfortably inside me? Every powerful thrust elicited a moan from me, louder than the one before and a groan from him, deeper than the previous. I moved my hands to his ass, cupping the rock-hard gl
utes beneath his slacks, and rocking my hips to meet his thrusts, as I fell into the rhythm of his relentless pounding. Our breathing grew ragged; we were panting like animals.
“Oh fuck, baby, what you do to me,” he breathed out, his voice an octave deeper, and sexy beyond belief.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, my voice breathy, my mouth dry.
“Don’t worry.”
And then a loud rap sounded at the door. “Hurry up in there.”
“Someone needs to use the bathroom,” I panted, panic in my voice at this untimely intrusion.
“Fuck it,” he grunted without stopping his ministrations.
As his greedy length hammered me, hitting that mega-spot again and again, he planted his thumb back on my clit and massaged it vigorously. My temperature was rising. Sweat was pouring out of every crevice of my body. Squeezing my legs tighter around him, I bit down on my lip and closed my eyes to savor the unbearable pleasure this sexy as sin beast was giving me.
“Are you on birth control?”
The words drifted through my head, not expecting them. I managed a throaty “yeah” as he thrust his cock once again into me. I had been on the pill for several years due to my irregular cycle.
“Good, baby,” he murmured in my ear.
I guess he felt you could never be too safe. Tugging my head back by my ponytail, he rolled his hot, velvety tongue up my neck. So, this was my reward for the right answer. The sensation drove me crazy. I felt like a puppy being scratched in her favorite spot.
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