Stories From The 6 Train 1(42)

He waggles his brows and hauls me off to his bedroom, where he promptly deposits me on the bed then walks to the other side of the room.

“Hey,” I protest. “Where are you going?”

He comes back toward me, waving a little foil packet, and understanding dawns.

I give him a mock-suspicious look. “Were you planning on getting lucky or something?”

He grins. “Just trying to be more like you, Jules, baby. Being a good Boy Scout—always prepared and all that jazz.” He rips open the condom and rolls it on, then is right there with me on the bed.

Brushing my hair from my face again in the way I’ve learned he likes to do, he looks into my eyes. Everything about being with him is an entirely new experience. He’s in no rush, not just in it for himself.

I reach up and stroke his face. “Make love to me,” I whisper. Because I know that’s what this will be.

Positioning himself over me, Linc braces himself on his forearms and lines himself up, his eyes on mine the whole time. Then he pushes inside.

I bite my lip as he slowly slides in, taking his time until I’m comfortable, adjusting to his size that fills me so completely. He begins moving in long, slow strokes, dropping kisses on my forehead, my neck, at last covering my mouth with his.

I move with him until we’re so lost in each other that everything else disappears. Hovering above me, he laces his fingers through mine, his face intense.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him in closer. So close to me. Until we’re as close as two people can be.

Sensations overtake my body, and our need increases. We race toward our releases, desperate.

Linc leans down and kisses me again, his eyes sucking me in as he whispers, “Come with me.”

I let go of everything, giving myself over to the moment.

I careen over a cliff of ecstasy, and he follows right behind me, my name falling from his lips in awe, just as his falls from mine. As if this is all we could ever want.

We lay in a tangle of limbs as we drift together. After a while, he pushes up and rolls to his side, tracing circles on my stomach with a little smile on his face.

Twining his fingers with mine, he kisses my knuckles.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, and I know what he means.

This is perfect. We‘re perfect together.

And when he grins and says, “How about that dessert?” there’s no doubt.

“Pizza, beer, sex, and dessert? Linc, it’s meant to be.”

He laughs as he rolls on top of me and tickles me again. “That’s just what I was thinking.”

I smile.

Yes.

Perfect.





Avery & Finn





40





Avery





Yet another stack of fliers almost done. I sigh, pushing my hair back off my forehead and step back to look at my work. Multi-colored pieces of paper line the walls of the 59th and Lex station, yet hardly anyone is paying attention. This is the third train stop I’ve canvased today, and I’m starting to feel like the effort is futile.

Fucking Finn Turner.

Thinks he’s a damn king and can do whatever he wants. Well, not if I have anything to say about it. And with any luck, the citizens of New York.

I mean, who the hell thinks they can just shut down the whole MTA? Seriously. He’s got to be the biggest narcissist ever. Spinning around, I catch a flash of reddish-brown hair sticking out above the crowd as the 6 Train pulls into the station, the speeding cars kicking up a breeze that scatters some of the fliers I’ve just worked so hard to tack to the wall in protest.

No way. My eyes narrow as I follow the tall man weaving his way through the crowd of morning commuters.

The man himself, the one I’ve basically declared my mortal enemy, is actually lowering himself to join the masses on the subway? I wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t standing right there.

But yep. He turns around, and I see him straight on. Definitely Finn.

Grinding my teeth, I stride across the terminal, one goal at the front of my mind—to give him a piece of it.

But the crowd surges forward onto the waiting cars, and for a minute I lose sight of him. I push my way forward when I catch another glimpse of him, determined to get on that train.

I make it inside just as the doors start to slide shut. Scanning the crowded car, I spot him back and to the right.

“Excuse me,” I mutter, elbowing my way throw the tight space, ignoring the glares and grumbles passengers toss my way. I couldn’t care less what they say.

Then I’m there in front of him. Not knowing what to say. A little taken aback by the intimidating presence before. He’s way more captivating in the flesh. Not nearly as steely as the images I’ve seen in the media. But just as forbidding. Commanding. Sucking up all the air around him in a way that dominates everyone and everything around him.