Holy shit.

Is this really happening right now? Surely I’m already back home and dreaming about this sexy biker that has me wrapped in his arms, his fingers digging into my hips, dangerously close to my ass. Because my skirt is also riding dangerously high.

There is no way this can be real. My train fantasy, courtesy of Adrienne, is not only coming true but with the kind of guy I only let myself pretend I can have? No way that’s real.

But his warm breath brushing across my neck and the shivers it sends down my spine feel pretty damn real.

“Now, how about that ride?” Blaze says.

Oh god. Yes, please!

To my total shock, I find myself grinning teasingly up at him. “Only if I get to be in charge.”

Something growly rises up his throat, and I feel it right at the top of my thighs, a pulsing throb of need making me lose all good sense.

His fingers tighten on me in response. “Ride away, baby.”

I swing a leg over the bike, shifting with his hands still on me until I’m straddling the bike in front of him. He’s pushed right up against my ass, and holy shit, he is hard.

I barely manage to keep the excited gasp contained, and to my complete embarrassment, I find myself pushing back against him and wiggling.

“There you go,” he chuckles. “Make yourself comfortable.”

I can’t even wrap my head around what I’m doing, but I can’t seem to stop, so I go with it. Somehow this fantasy man come to life is too much for me and I can’t make myself think rationally.

“Have you ridden before?” Blaze murmurs against my neck, sending another shiver through me.

Not sure if he’s talking about the bike or…well, other things, I go with an answer that covers both bases. “It’s been a while.”

“Hmm.” He takes his hands from my hips and runs them down my arms until his huge hands grip mine and stretch them out until I’m leaning way, way forward on the bike to reach the handles. The movement has my back arched and my ass pushed even further back into him.

“Let me refresh your memory, then,” Blaze continues. He grabs first one booted foot, then the other, and places them up on the bike until the only thing keeping us upright is him. But I’m not worried. I got a good look at those muscular thighs. This guy is big, in every way. And somehow, against every bit of reason, against everything about him that screams danger, I trust that he’s got me.

Once my legs are in place, thighs gripping the body of the bike, he lets his hands run up from my boots, trailing roughly along my thighs until they come to rest right at the top.

“There you go,” he says, squeezing my thighs, “grip it just like that between your legs.”

I do what he says, squeezing my legs even tighter, glad at the moment that I have something between my legs. Because the pressure building in my core is out of control. I wiggle around a little, trying to get a little friction from the bike on my clit, nearly out of my mind with desire as his thick cock presses against my ass when I move.

“So, Ginger.” The way my name rolls off his tongue, as if it’s a tease, has me turning my head to look at him over my shoulder. I can’t decide if that’s a mistake or not because the depths of his eyes have gone totally black with the same lust that I feel.

“Yeah?” I breathe, not sure what is actually going on. I’m trading innuendos with a total stranger, not so subtly grinding on his cock, and hoping his fingers on my thighs inch their way a little higher. And I can’t remember why it’s a bad idea.

“You often take rides from strangers?”

I laugh, his double meaning not lost on me. “Well, this isn’t actually a ride, is it?” I tease. “But yeah, rides from strangers are supposed to be bad.”

He grunts, his fingers digging into my legs again, the tips trailing under the hem of my skirt. “So bad.”

His lips aren’t even an inch from my neck, and I tilt my head, inviting him in. He doesn’t hesitate. And his teeth nip at my sensitive skin, followed my the tease of his tongue, my eyes flutter closed, blocking out the sight of the other passengers on the train.

I moan, shamelessly grinding on him and his bike, and his fingertips move stealthily under my skirt, brushing against my panties.

Blaze hisses, lifting his lips to my ear. “You are so fucking wet.”

His words only make me wetter, and I’m about to lose all sense of time and place as he continues to stroke me through the lacy fabric.

But then the train jerks to a stop, throwing me forward on the bike. The doors whoosh open, and there’s movement as people exit and board the train. I’m jerked back to my senses just as quickly.

What the hell was I thinking? I was about to let this total stranger make me cum on the train? Holy shit.

My face flaming, I jump from the bike, looking around frantically. This is so not me. I must have just gotten carried away after hearing about Adrienne’s crazy antics.

With one last look at that ruggedly gorgeous face that’s now twisted in confusion, I bolt, so glad that I live in a city of millions of people where I will certainly never see any of the people on this train again.