Stories From The 6 Train 1(39)

Nope. It’s totally there.

“I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it,” she manages, but I don’t miss the way her eyes dart down, running over my body. I also don’t miss the telltale dart of her tongue across her lips as her eyes reach my cock.

Holy fuck.

What?

I can’t even process what’s happening. Because there is no denying there’s some kind of sexual tension gathering in the room, sweeping us up in it. It’s like every fantasy I’ve had come to life. She’s seriously looking at me like she wants me. Something I have never seen on her face before.

And fuck me, because even though I know it’s a terrible idea—that I’m her boss and there’s nothing that terrifies me more that running her off—I’m walking toward her, stalking, really, with nothing but dirty, wicked intentions.





37





Jules





Oh god. Linc has a glint in his eye. That same one I thought I saw this morning on the train. I didn’t recognize it then, but there’s no denying now what it is. Pure, unadulterated lust. As if he wants to spread me across the table like I’m what he wants to eat for lunch.

I gasp, my thighs quivering at the mere thought of him between my legs.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice pitched low, “you should just take my word for it, Jules. That would be the smart thing to do.”

My throat feels tight, and I struggle to swallow against the nerves that are rising up.

Another step closer.

“You’re a smart woman,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “You know what you need to do.”

I’m so confused. It’s like he’s warning me off. Telling me that this—whatever this is—is a bad idea. That it would be smart to not go there. But at the same time, he’s coming ever closer, his eyes dark with desire. For me.

And there is no way in hell I can walk away from that.

He stops inches from me, his breath coming nearly as fast and sharp as mine.

“Linc,” I whisper, my eyes wide.

He reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Brushing his knuckles across my jaw.

I sigh, my eyes fluttering shut, my body both relaxing into his touch and sparking with dangerous, delicious awareness.

“Fuck, Jules,” he bites out, cupping my cheek in his palm, his thumb tracing my lips.

I suck in a sharp breath, and suddenly my heart is hammering in my chest. Desire flooding my body. Blood rushing through my veins in a race to my center.

“This is a bad idea,” he says, though he doesn’t step away or let go of me.

My eyes open, searching his. “It’s a terrible idea,” I manage to say.

“The worst,” he agrees.

“Then why does it sound so good?”

A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face. “Because even though it’s bad, it would be so, so good.”

I practically whimper, my knees feeling wobbly.

Linc runs a finger down my chest, skimming over my breasts to my side, where he runs his hand around to my back, tracing lazy circles as he stares into my face. Watching. Measuring. Then he drops his hand lower, hovering lightly over my hips as he leans into me, pressing himself against me.

I can’t help it. I moan at the hard pressure of his cock straining against my belly. “Linc, what are we doing?”

“I don’t know. I just know I can’t think past the need to taste you right now.”

I melt. My body pliant as he tangles his other hand in my hair and angles my head up toward his. His mouth is only a breath away. We’re sharing the same air.

And I can’t fight it. This is what I’ve wanted for so long. Now that it’s happening there’s no resisting. Even though it will surely end badly.

It doesn’t matter, though. I tip my head up higher, my eyes clear, showing him that I want this too.

I can feel the hesitation. The tension winding him tight as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, indecision creeping into his eyes.

We stay suspending in the moment for what feels like eternity.

Then he mutters, “Fuck it,” and lowers his lips to mine.

A soft, testing brush. So light it’s like a flutter. Then another, firmer, surer.

My lips part on a sigh, so unbelievably content and so desperately needy at the same time, and he dips in, his tongue barely teasing mine.

Linc pulls back, his eyes searching. Waiting for me to tell him no. But if that’s what he’s waiting for, he’s going to be waiting forever. Because there is no way I’ll tell him to stop.

He seems to see this, because the next thing I know, he’s kissing me with a desperation that matches my own. As if he’s wanted this as long as I have. I don’t know how that’s possible, but that’s how it feels.