CHAPTER 2
Sarah
I was going to miss my train! That was all I could think of as I dashed through Philadelphia’s majestic 30th Street Station. Totally disheveled. A total trainwreck, no pun intended.
My best friend, Lauren, with all her connections, had scored a bunch of coveted tickets to a Black Eyed Peas concert in Central Park, and I was among those she had chosen to be part of her entourage so I had to be home by seven, shower, and get dressed. I rushed past the tempting food court toward the information center. The old-fashioned, flip-letter Amtrak schedule board made a ticking sound as it updated arrivals and departures. I glanced up. Shit! My train to Penn Station was leaving in five minutes from Gate 5. My eyes darted around the high-ceiling Art Deco station for the escalator leading down to the train platforms. Usually, I took the cheap, smelly Chinatown express bus to Philadelphia to visit my mother, but today was one of the few exceptions because of the concert. Despite the fact I’d been in this vast station a few times before, I never knew where I was going. My sense of direction was nothing to be proud of.
My eyes bounced from the famous Angel of the Resurrection statue to another bronzed statue. A god. An over six-foot tall, golden-haired Adonis leaning seductively against the railing of the VIP mezzanine. Even from this distant vantage point, I could tell he was wearing one of those super-expensive, custom-tailored beige suits that New York’s tycoons donned once spring hit. It made a stunning contrast with his St. Tropez tan, the kind wealthy Manhattanites sported all year round. With his designer sunglasses perched on his perfectly blown flaxen hair, he looked like he was straight out of GQ.
I couldn’t get my eyes off him. The sight of him made my knees weak and my heart hammer. I had dreamt about men like this, but the reality of ever meeting one was not within my grasp. I was a geeky, relatively recent college grad, who, after several false starts, had finally landed an entry-level job at Ike’s Tikes, an established New York City toy company, and was struggling to make ends meet. Beautiful men were just not in the cards. They never had been. But my mom had always told me it was okay to dream, so for a minute, as Adonis pivoted his head in my direction, I imagined his eyes burning across the station into mine.
A booming voice put an end to my reverie—and the hot pulsating sensation thrumming between my legs. “Last call for Amtrak 148 to Penn Station boarding at Gate 5.”
In the blink of an eye, Adonis was gone. Out of my life and dreams forever. My pulse accelerated as my eyes flitted around the vast station for the gate sign. Finally, I found it and began to run, my messenger-style canvas bag flying behind me. The escalator descending to the train platform was out of order. Thank goodness, I was wearing my trusty combat boots. At breakneck speed, I clambered down the daunting three flights of stairs, praying that the train wouldn’t leave without me.
“Wait!” I screamed as the automatic doors of the sleek silver train were closing. I skimmed through one of them, narrowly missing being a smooshed sardine.
Breathing heavily, I staggered through the car, desperately searching for a seat. Nothing. It was rush hour and every seat was taken. Maybe I would have better luck in the next car, I thought as I wobbled across the connecting bridge, the train rolling into motion. I so needed to sit down, catch my breath, and relax. I was exhausted and rundown. Not just from my sprint to the train, but from weeks of juggling my Manhattan-based job as the assistant to a demanding female executive with visits to my ailing mother, who was receiving experimental cancer treatments at the University of Pennsylvania’s world-renowned hospital. Seeing my mother in her weakened state, hooked up to IVs and monitors, never helped no matter how cheery she was when I came to see her.
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.