Stories From The 6 Train 1(4)
“You are a bad girl. You want me to take you right up against this wall. Fuck you hard until you scream my name.”
Is that what I want? I don’t even know this guy. But when he dips his finger inside the lace, brushing against my drenched folds, I know that I do.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“Fuck me, Reese.” I can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. But when he hooks a finger in my thong and yanks it down, I no longer care.
“So hot,” he murmurs, watching as he slides a finger inside me. Finishing what he started, what I wanted him to do on the train.
I cry out as he adds a finger, thrusting deep into my pussy, and rolls his thumb over my clit. Shivers race up and down my spine, through my arms and legs, then shoot back to my core, igniting my body until I feel that I might burst into flames.
Then his mouth is back on mine, teeth and tongue and lips urgent and demanding. I kiss him back, grinding against his hand, searching for release. I want to wrap my arms around him, wrap my entire body around him, but he still has me pinned to the door.
“I want you so bad,” he grits out as he pumps his fingers into me faster and faster, sending me right up to the edge of ecstasy. “Do you have any idea what you did to me today when I saw that underneath all this you have a dirty side?” He flicks the strap of the garter belt with his thumb before going right back to my clit. “Because there’s no way someone wears something like this and doesn’t want to be fucked hard and dirty.”
A whimper makes its way out of my chest. “Yes. Please.”
He lowers his head to my chest, teasing me through my shirt with his lips, brushing them back and forth until my nipples become hard peaks straining against the lace of my bra.
“You look so perfect in your fancy clothes. I just want to mess them up. Mess you up.”
I never would have thought I’d be okay with someone wrinkling up my overpriced silk blouse, but as he clamps his mouth over my breast, sucking hard until I can feel the wetness of his mouth through the thin fabric separating us, it does nothing but make me wetter.
Reese chuckles as if he knows what he’s doing to me. I can hear the sound of my juices on his hand as he continues to drive into me. And when he bites down on my nipple, I come apart.
A million pinpricks of light fill my vision. I convulse, my body pushed to its limits by the intensity of the orgasm as it crashes over me. My pussy clenches around Reese’s fingers, as I ride wave after wave of pure pleasure.
When I come down, aftershocks wracking my body, I open my eyes and stare at him. His cocky expression tells me he knows just how amazing he made me feel.
“So, Adrienne,” he murmurs, finally releasing my wrists from above my head, “I was looking for a male roommate, but I think I might make an exception in your case.”
His words bring me sharply back to reality. Oh my god. I just let a complete stranger rip my thong off and make me come against his door. The door of the apartment I thought would be mine up until fifteen minutes ago.
Now, I’m just confused. I can’t live here. How could I? It’s all kinds of complicated, and I don’t have room for that in my life. What would that even make us? Roommates? Fuck buddies? Definitely not friends with benefits because I don’t even know the guy.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer, pulling my thong up and shoving my skirt down as fast as I can. I reach for the doorknob as confusion washes over Reese’s face. His heartbreakingly gorgeous face.
Yeah. I can’t do this. It’s just asking for heartbreak. Because there is no way I can live with this guy and keep my hands off him. Which means I can’t live with him at all. Even if that means after this week I’m effectively homeless.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, twisting the knob and practically running out the door before he can stop me. I don’t look back.
4
Reese
I pace my office, my phone pressed against my ear. “What do you mean there’s no other address?”
My assistant tries to respond calmly, but I can tell my outburst has rattled her. “Exactly what it sounds like. Her application said her current lease ended last Saturday. And she didn’t have any forwarding address or anything.
I rake my hand through my hair. It’s been almost two weeks since Adrienne ran from my apartment and I feel like I’m going crazy. I can’t get her out of my head. I pulled out all the stops trying to run into her on the 6 Train, but I know she has to be avoiding me, changing her schedule or something.
I need to find her. No, I have to find her. Somehow she has totally taken over my waking—and sleeping—thoughts.