Page 108 of Naughty Nelle

“I think I would do just fine.” He paused. “Hey, what got into you last night? I looked for you—”

Before I had a chance to reply, a little boy on a scooter rushed up to us. He had long-lashed green eyes, sandy hair, and a handful of freckles scattered on his face. He was, in a word, adorable.

“Daddy, I want some ice cream.”

Daddy?The word numbed me.

Ari nervously ran his hand through his golden hair and knitted his brows together. “Sarah, this is Ben. My son.”

His son?Trainman had a son? I felt the ground open up beneath me, and I was sinking into a dark abyss. Fucking Trainman was fucking married! From the corner of my eye, I saw the beautiful redhead jogging our way. She was waving. Holy shit! His wife?

“I’ve got to go.” I hurried to get the words out as I fought back tears.

“Saa—”

The second syllable of my name faded into the fragrant spring air as I took off like a bolt of lightning. I raced through the park, tears streaming down my face. The married fucker fucked me on a train? And called me his princess? I didn’t know who I hated more—my Trainman or myself. I felt sick to my stomach.

When I reached the corner of Forty-Fifth and Sixth, I finally slowed down. My heart was still racing, and I was drenched with a combination of sweat and tears. Never had I felt so dirty, so humiliated, and so regretful in my whole twenty-five years. And so hurt.

With tears still spilling down my cheeks, I speed walked the remainder of the way home. When I got to the landing of my brownstone, I mounted it two steps at a time. I couldn’t wait to hop in the shower and wash myself off. The sweat. The grime. The memories. I unfastened the safety pin that attached my keys to my shorts, and jiggled the largest of them into the feisty lock. The door wouldn’t open. Damn that lock!

“Can I help?”

I spun around. Fuck. It was him. His face was flushed with beads of sweat glistening on his bronzed skin like fairy dust. His breathing was heavy, his eyes hooded.

“Get away from me!” I yelled. “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

“Jesus. I ran halfway across this city to see you, and trust me, I never have to chase after women.”

His voice was breathy, the look on his face a cross between rage and lust. A look that made me want him even though I had no right to want him. A horde of emotions swarmed me. Guilt, confusion, hurt, and desire. I began to sob and pound his rock hard chest with my fists.

“Get away from me, you asshole! You’re married!”

With one hand, he clasped his long fingers around both my hands, so tightly I couldn’t move them or strike him again. The other hand cupped my tear-soaked chin and tilted my head back slightly. Too drained to resist, my gaze met his. His eyes were intense and did not blink.

“Saarah, I’m not married. I’ve been divorced for three years.” He loosened his grip.

My lips parted, but I was speechless. I could only taste my salty tears.

The next thing I knew, his lips were consuming mine, my face now cradled in his ample hands. My eyes closed, I could hear him softly moaning, as he pressed harder, deepening the kiss. My parted lips made an easy entry for his tongue; it instantly found mine and I couldn’t say no to the warm, velvety suitor. I had wanted his kiss ever since we’d met. Our tongues swirled together, his dancing across my palate and the hollows of my cheeks. Oh God, he tasted delicious. Sweet and minty and just a little salty. Oh what a kisser! Melting, I moaned into his mouth.

Still holding my keys, I wrapped my arms around his neck and raked the unencumbered fingers of my other hand through his thick, damp hair. His hands slithered down my neck to my chest, until they landed on my breasts. Squeezing and massaging them, he brushed his thumbs across my nipples. Desire was pooling between my legs at the speed of a locomotive.

With one arm, he drew me closer to him. I could feel my hard, erect nipples rub against his drenched cotton shirt. I folded my arms around his taut torso, pressing my body tighter against his.

Moving his hands to my waist, he forcefully shoved me against the hard wooden door, pinning me against it with his equally hard body. My groin ached as the hard wedge between his legs pressed against it. I dug my fingers into his narrow hips, clutching the tails of his tennis shirt. He was still kissing me passionately. The wildfire inside me kept spreading. I couldn’t believe this scene—straight out of a movie—was actually happening to me. With this gorgeous, gorgeous creature.

Slowly, he withdrew his tongue from my mouth. His breathing was heavy, his beautiful face with its hooded blue eyes only a palm’s width away from mine. His tongue flicked across my neck and then his warm breath blew in my ear. Clasping a large hand over mine, he expertly transferred my house keys into his possession.

“Saarah,”he whispered, “I need a shower.”

That made two of us. I was dripping wet. Soaked with his sweat and mine. I don’t know whose was whose. Our musky mists mingled.

With two simple twists, he managed to unbolt the double lock. After turning the doorknob, he kicked the door open and, in one smooth move, scooped me up in his arms. I brushed the sweat off his brow and then wrapped my arms around his neck, inhaling the sweet scent of his manly sweat mixed with mine.

Effortlessly, he carried me up the three flights of stairs to my apartment. I ran my fingers through his hair and let myself just enjoy the ride. With every step, the throbbing inside me grew more intense. Along the way, we passed Mrs. Blumberg with her shopping cart. Her eyes grew wide. I simply waved at her, stifling a giggle. I knew what she must be thinking. Oy! She’s going to let him touch her there.

Oh yes, I was!

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