Page 123 of Naughty Nelle

CHAPTER 14

Sarah

Iwoke up the next morning with Jo-Jo and reality in my face. I didn’t sleep well. My evening with Ari plagued me, and I had a nightmare in which I was Dorothy and his sister was the Wicked Witch of the West. “I’ll get you and your little pussy Jo-Jo,” she cackled, her evil laugh still echoing in my ears.

As I stumbled out of bed, doubt wracked my brain. I had no clue if I’d see Ari again, or after last night, he’d want to see me. I had to remember this was a man who was fucked up. He had not been in a serious relationship since he’d left his wife, and commitment—okay, date—was a four-letter word.

Heading into the bathroom to complete my morning routine, I decided today was as good a day as any to start looking for a second job to help pay for my mother’s treatments. My plan was to scour the local restaurants to see if I could get an evening or weekend job as a waitress or hostess. The good news was that I had done both before to help pay my RISD expenses. I was an exemplary employee—punctual, hard-working, personable, and courteous—and could expect glowing recommendations from my former employers. Later, I would call my mom, and hopefully, we could share some good news.

Dressed in a mid-length paisley skirt, a lightweight sweater, and my beloved combat boots, I grabbed my bag and trotted down the stairs, passing Mrs. Blumberg, who was already carrying two shopping bags full of groceries.

“So, how was your date the other night?” she asked, always the nosy busybody.

“Very nice,” I replied with a quick smile. Wishing her a good day, I skipped down the stairs, pondering my response. Very nice… but…

Upon opening the front door to the building, sunlight assaulted my eyes. Squinting, I recalled that for New Yorkers, today was the second day of the three-day Memorial Day weekend. Unlike your typical Sunday, the city streets were empty. Families and singletons, like me, had already escaped the rushed, stressful life of the Big Apple by heading to more restful destinations like the Hamptons. Like Lauren and her fiancé Taylor. All their friends owned or rented second homes in these exclusive oceanfront communities along Long Island’s South Fork. Except me, who couldn’t afford to do either. And truthfully, I had better things to do than sun on the beach.

As I headed east on Forty-Fifth Street, Ari filled my mind. My body ached for him—his arms, his lips, his tongue, and most of all, his glorious cock. My longing ate away at me. Pessimism persisted. With every step, I was growing more and more positive I’d never see him again.

As I got to the end of the block, a car honked loudly behind me. I turned my head to see what the commotion was about. Rolling up to me was a midnight blue Bentley convertible. A beyond handsome man, wearing a white visor with a T-shirt and expensive-looking wraparound sunglasses, was at the wheel. Holy shit!

“Get in,” he ordered.

“I can’t,” I stammered, marching up Eighth Avenue.

The Bentley trailed me.

“Get your sweet ass in the car, NOW,” barked the driver.

He pulled up to the curb beside me and opened the car door. Torn between stepping into the car and running away as fast and far away as I could, I opted for the former, against my better judgment.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked after slamming the heavy car door closed and fastening my seat belt.

Ari peeled away from the curb. “It’s a surprise. Ben agreed you should come along.”

Ben?I guess I’d made a positive impression on him. Ha-ha. Score more points for me. I held back a smug smile.

“We’ll be spending the weekend.”

Huh?I jolted as Ari picked up speed. I was spending the weekend with this god and his son? I hadn’t even spent a night with him! In fact, I hardly knew him.

Ari glanced my way. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

Truthfully, I was already regretting getting into the car. A flurry of worries swarmed me. I had no clue where he was taking me. I had nothing to wear. I should be looking for a second job. I was freaking out about spending the rest of weekend with him. And there was this…who was going to take care of the poor cat? Maybe Mrs. Blumberg could.

“Open the glove compartment,” Ari ordered, shaking me out of my mental madness.

I did as he asked and unlatched it. Inside, along with a Bentley Continental GTC manual, was a white visor like his and a pair of black Ray-Bans.

“Those are for you. You’ll need them.”

I slipped them on. Ari shot me that dazzling, dimpled smile.

As we zoomed uptown and the wind whipped against my face, I began to relax and look forward to my adventure. My guilt and angst succumbed to the joy of being with him. It felt good. So good. At least for now.

We were no longer going to be strangers on a train.

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