Trainwreck: Book One
A steamy and suspenseful two-part series by NEW YORK TIMES Bestselling Author Nelle L’Amour, with both novel-length books releasing on the same day!
SARAH: I’m an utter trainwreck. I can barely pay my rent. Mom’s sick and her insurance company won’t cover her new treatments. To make matters worse, I work for a total bitch, who makes the Devil Wears Prada look like Mother Theresa. Oh yeah, did I mention I have no social life? Then, I met him on a train. Ari Golden, New York’s most eligible and dazzling bachelor. Don’t ask what happened. I’m ashamed to tell you, but the truth is it really happened to me. Now, I realize I made the biggest mistake of my life…because an unexpected discovery threatens to destroy us both.
ARI: I’ve sworn off women. At least, having them in my bed. No woman is allowed there. I’ve been hurt both emotionally and physically and don’t want to go there again. And besides, I have someone way more important than myself to protect. Then, I saw her, and from the moment I set eyes on her, I knew there was something different about her. Something special. She sat next to me on the train and I couldn’t resist. I should have, and now I risk losing everything if I don’t stop…because my past has come back with a vengeance to haunt me. The last thing I need is another trainwreck.
Hold on to your seats for the steamiest ride you’ll ever take! When the past and the present collide, will fate derail these two star-crossed lovers or will it bring them to their final destination before they crash and burn?
The door to the unisex lavatory located at the back of the Amtrak cabin was locked. That meant someone was inside. I tapped my foot impatiently, my head filling with the image of the blond, blue-eyed Adonis sitting next to me. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? These kinds of things never happened to geeky me. They were the stuff of novels and movies. Not my mundane all-work-no-play life.
“Hi.” A familiar velvety voice catapulted me out of my thoughts, and a waft of warm breath blew across the nape of my neck. I spun around.
My mysterious stranger. His crisp blue eyes burned into mine, making my temperature soar and my bones turn to liquid. What was he doing here? I suppose he had to go. I couldn’t stop that.
I turned my head away, and stared squarely at the bathroom door, praying silently that whoever was in there would hurry up. He blew hot air on my neck again and wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing me tight against his rock-hard body. A warm, hard bulge pressed against my buttocks. I was all twisted up with nerves and might need the bathroom more than I’d originally thought.
Finally, the door burst open in my face; a sour-faced matron barged out. Calling on every muscle in my body, I broke free of Trainman’s grip and hastily dashed inside. My hands shaky, I fumbled to slide the latch, but before I could get it through the lock, the door forcefully swung open.
“I couldn’t wait,” Trainman growled, pushing me against the edge of the sink. He pressed his hips tight against mine. I was trapped.
He leaned in close to me. A mix of his warm, minty breath and expensive cologne with its musky scent rushed up my nose. His eyes narrowed, turning into collectible slivers of blue sea glass. His mouth descended on the right side of my neck then slowly trailed upward to my earlobe. He clamped his warm, soft lips on the cartilage, alternating between nipping and sucking it. Oh my God! I didn’t know my earlobes could feel so much. The last time they felt anything was when I got them pierced in eighth grade. And that was pain. Pure pain. Now what I was feeling was bliss. Pure, tingly bliss…and the sensation was coursing through my entire body.
Still pressing me hard against the sink with his hipbones, he pinched my nipples between his thumbs and index fingers and then began kneading them in small circles, each rotation harder than the one before. Magically, the delicate buds puckered and peaked beneath my cotton tee. A new I-want-to-burst-out-of-my skin sensation gathered in the triangle between my legs. It was if my tits and clit were connected by a power cord. I moaned softly.
“You don’t wear a bra,” he murmured in my ear.
I rarely wore a bra because I really didn’t need one. My boobs never got past a small A-cup, the size of old-fashioned champagne saucers. Before I could say a word, that is if I could utter a word, he whispered, “Sexy.”
Me, Sarah, plain and tall, sexy? And this coming from this gorgeous beast? Pinch me. I must be dreaming this entire fantasy. As if on cue, he pinched one of my nipples again. My girl bits roared in delight. No, this was real. And it was happening to me. Sarah Greene. Art school graduate. Aspiring toy designer. Twenty-five-year-old virgin.
I stared at his breathtaking face. His eyes were cast downward. A sly smile tipped to the left made me nervous. In a good way.
While one hand continued to twirl a nipple, the other slid down my torso past my tight, twisted abdomen and under the elastic waistbands of both my skirt and pantyhose. His hands felt like hot velvet as they explored my inner thighs.
“Hmm,” he purred. “No panties?”
I never wore panties with pantyhose. Why bother? They were called pantyhose for a reason. And I confess, not buying expensive panties—and bras—saved me a lot of money. Money I needed desperately to visit my mother.
“Very sexy,” he said, enunciating each syllable, as his fingertips made their way to the triangle between my legs. They stopped to caress my patch of hair, stroking it as if it were a beloved pussy…cat.
“So soft and silky,” Trainman purred again as if I were auditioning for one of those look-at-my-gorgeous-hair Pantene commercials.
After a tug of a curled clump, his fingers crawled to the sensitive folds between my legs. They explored this new territory eagerly like someone who was searching for gold. And then he discovered it. The nugget. Greedily, he rubbed the pad of this thumb around his discovery with intense little circles that were driving me insane. I squirmed against the sink as a loud moan escaped my lips.
“Do you like this?” he crooned, picking up his pace and applying more pressure.
“It feels good.” That was an understatement. Holy cow! It felt amazing! Buzzing with intense pleasure, I wanted to jump out of my skin. My eyes caught a glimpse of him. A wicked smile crossed his gorgeous face, and his piercing blue eyes glistened.
“Saarah, I can’t help myself,” his voice all hot and breathy. “I want you.”
And despite myself, I wanted him. So badly I was panting like a dog in heat.
“I want to fuck you senseless. Will you let me?”
“Yeah, cool.” Cool? What was wrong with me? I was anything but cool. I was a total hot mess who couldn’t add one and one.
A pleased, sexy as sin smile played on his face. Still massaging my clit with his thumb, he plunged his long thick middle finger inside me. I gasped, not prepared for the shock of penetration. Shockwaves spread through my body as his finger slid up and down the soaked walls, each thrust deeper than the one before.
“Jesus,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking hot and wet for me. And you’re as tight as a virgin.”
I gulped. Should I tell him? Was I supposed to? Or would this confession turn him off?
As I contemplated what to do, he continued his ministrations, pumping me harder.
Dripping with my own wet heat, I gasped again, still not sure this was really happening. My core was aching for more. Desperate for it. Why was I not resisting?
“I’m going to take you now,” he growled.
Take me where? I didn’t want to be anywhere, any place but here in this cramped bathroom with this sinfully sexy mysterious sorcerer who was doing his magic on me.
Using his free hand, he yanked down both my skirt and hose. My eyes glanced down at my skirt puddled on the floor and my pantyhose scrunched up above my scuffed up boots. His hand made its way back up, and I heard him unzip his fly. My gaze stopped short at a massive hunk of pink, veined flesh that was aimed at my crotch. Yowzer! I was ready to surrender. Yes, take me now.
“Sit on the sink,” he ordered as he expertly rolled on a latex condom that seemed to come out of nowhere.
I was in no condition to argue. I plunked my buttocks down on the edge of the shiny basin. The cold metal gave me goosebumps all over. Wasting no time, he tugged off my boots, without untying them, and then slipped off the hose.
“Now, spread your legs.”
He splayed his large hands on my narrow hips to anchor me. An intensity washed over his face. Like an artist who was contemplating painting his masterpiece.
“Now, Saarah, take me and insert me where you want me.”
Holy shit! He wanted me to touch that monstrosity. Cradle it in my hands? Our eyes met, mine wide-eyed with fear and excitement, his hooded with determination and desire.
Hesitantly, I curled my trembling fingers around the pillar of flesh, surprised that they could circle around it despite its girth. I’d never felt a man’s cock before. The touch beneath my fingers was hot, velvety, and pulsing with energy. Burning with desire, I knew exactly where I wanted it. The hollowness inside me was crying out for it. I needed to be sated by him. Totally consumed.
My fingers on fire, I angled his cock toward the opening between my legs and put the wide crown to my entrance. I suddenly had second thoughts. Shit. Was his mammoth erection going to fit inside me? I silently shuddered. What if it didn’t fit? And even if it did, would I know what to do? As much as I wanted him, I was so not prepared for this. My heart stuttered at the thought of letting down this sex god. Of being a failure. And then regretting my actions. This was so not how I envisioned losing my V-card. I dreamt about being swept away by the man of my dreams. But he was the man of my dreams. Should I tell him I was a virgin?
Okay. I was going to tell him the truth. He needed to know.
But on my next heated breath, he stopped me, fierce like a freight train on its mission. With a sharp thrust, he jettisoned his enormous erection deep inside me. I winced. The initial pain and shock of his penetration was enough to make me almost fall off the sink, or into it, but as my muscles relaxed, it felt amazing. Like it belonged and had found its home sweet home.
“Christ, I just can’t believe how tight you are. It feels so fucking amazing.” Rolling his tongue over his lips, he lifted me off the sink basin so that we were almost face-to-face. My feet dangled like a rag doll’s not touching the floor below.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered, holding me firmly.
In no condition to argue, I did what he said, wrapping my long legs around his lean torso like a pretzel. He gripped my hips. My arms swung around his neck, and I hung on to him tightly, clasping the rich fabric of his suit jacket between my fingers. This was one ride I did not want to fall off.
With me in this position, clinging to him, he took a couple steps to back me against a wall and then with a grunt, shoved his rock-hard cock deeper into me. I gasped with a mixture of shock and ecstasy as the tip rammed against a hypersensitive spot I never knew I had. He groaned. He slid his rod nearly out and then thrust it back in, this time hitting the spot even harder. I moaned. He groaned louder. He repeated the pattern, speeding it up with every forceful thrust. How could that giant thing between his legs fit so easily and comfortably inside me? Every powerful thrust elicited a moan from me, louder than the one before and a groan from him, deeper than the previous. I moved my hands to his ass, cupping the rock-hard glutes beneath his slacks, and rocking my hips to meet his thrusts, as I fell into the rhythm of his relentless pounding. Our breathing grew ragged; we were panting like animals.
“Oh fuck, baby, what you do to me,” he breathed out, his voice an octave deeper, and sexy beyond belief.
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, my voice breathy, my mouth dry.
And then a loud rap sounded at the door. “Hurry up in there.”
“Someone needs to use the bathroom,” I panted out, panic in my voice at this untimely intrusion.
“Fuck it,” he grunted without stopping his ministrations.
As his greedy length hammered me, hitting that mega-spot again and again, he planted his thumb back on my clit and massaged it vigorously. My temperature was rising. Sweat was pouring out of every crevice of my body. Squeezing my legs tighter around him, I bit down on my lip and closed my eyes to savor the unbearable pleasure this gorgeous beast was giving me.
“Are you on birth control?” The words drifted through my head, not expecting them. I managed a throaty “yeah” as he thrust his cock once again into me. I had been on the pill for several years due to my irregular cycle.
“Good, baby,” he murmured in my ear. I guess he felt you could never be too safe. Tugging my head back by my ponytail, he rolled his hot, velvety tongue up my neck. So, this was my reward for the right answer. The sensation drove me crazy. I felt like a puppy being scratched in her favorite spot.
Whimpering, I didn’t think I could take it anymore between the ruthless banging, clit flicks, and licks of his tongue. My pussy throbbed as a wildfire raced through my body, shamelessly kindling every nerve inside me, from my head to my toes. I was about to implode.
“I think I’m going to come!” I cried out, the vibrations of the speeding train bringing me even closer to the edge.
“Hang in there, baby.”
On my next heated breath, I felt him explode with a massive blast of his release.
“Yes, Saarah,” he roared, drawing out my name.
I simultaneously convulsed around him, my own epic orgasm sending wave after wave of ecstasy soaring through my core. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I wasn’t sure if I was saying the words aloud or screaming them silently in my head. What was happening to me? I’d never had such a mind-blowing experience.
Slowly, he withdrew from me. I was surprised at how big and rigid his sheathed cock still was. Without taking his smoldering eyes off mine, he slid off his spent condom and tossed it into the waste dispenser. Snatching a paper towel, he cleaned himself up and then tucked his thick length back into his pants. I don’t think he was wearing underwear either.
“Saarah,” he said grinning as he zipped up his fly, “do you still have to pee?”
“Yes,” I stammered, as I pulled up the remains of my pantyhose and slipped on my skirt. I was shaking, dazed, and drained from his plundering. He, on the other hand, looked totally together like he was ready to go into a board meeting.
Trainman rolled his eyes and then let me pee in peace. And privacy.
After latching the door, I sat on the toilet longer than I needed to, tremors tearing through me. After putting my boots back on, I gazed at the big rip in my pantyhose in the so-called “reinforced” crotch area. My inner thighs trembled. The events that had just happened spun around in my head while orgasmic vibrations were still coming at me with the force of a rockslide. Why did I let myself do this? Why? Neediness? Insecurity? Maybe a desperate escape from the anguish my dying mother was causing? Or just because this man was the sexiest beast I’d ever laid my eyes on? A golden-haired Adonis. Finally, I tore off a generous piece of toilet paper and wiped by bottom from front to back just like my mother had taught me. A crimson stain soaked the soft white paper. I was bleeding. Reality hit me like a brick. I had just lost my virginity to a stranger on a train.
In a state of mild shock, I slowly raised myself from the toilet, pulled up my damp, crotchless hose, and washed my hands in the sink that now held so many memories for me. I splattered a little of the cold water on my face and sipped some from my hands to quench my parched mouth. For the first time, I looked at myself in the mirror. My reflection startled me. My hair was disheveled; my big brown eyes half-moons, and my full-lipped mouth locked in a parted pout. I was no longer the girl who, only minutes ago, had almost been squished by a pair of automatic train doors. I looked like a woman. A woman who had just been fucked. Big time.
Hastily, I fixed my ponytail and splashed some more water on my face. I glimpsed myself again in the mirror. Not too much better, but at least better. Taking a deep breath, I unlatched the door and made my way back to my seat. My legs were like Jell-O and my body was shaking. And between my inner thighs, my pussy was blazing.
Trainman flashed a dimpled smile when he saw me staggering down the aisle. Though cocky, it was dazzling, and his blue eyes glinted with victory. I was once again aroused by his gorgeousness. As I continued my walk of shame, I thought about how cool, calm, and collected he looked. Maybe he was a pro at this routine—find a sweet, innocent girl like me and have her kiss her V-card goodbye. Another typical ride home. And I was just a number.
My heart rattled at the thought as I neared him. This time in true gentlemanly fashion, he rose from his seat and let me slide into mine with a modicum of grace. We were back to sitting side by side.
As the speeding train passed through different neighborhoods, from the poorest to the toniest, we shared a self-imposed silence. He was back to reading his Wall Street Journal so I kept my head turned, looking out the window. A million questions whirled around in my head. I wondered—who was this man?…what did he do?…why did he choose me?…would I ever see him again? The last question troubled me the most. With a growing feeling of having been used, I swiveled my head and stared at his swoon-worthy, high-cheekboned profile that showed off his long lashes, strong chin, and fine Roman nose. What was he thinking? Why was he ignoring me? The impassive look on his face made his thoughts unreadable, and it frustrated me to no end.
Jesus. He’d just fucked my brains out. Stolen my virginity. And he wasn’t talking to me. I thought about snatching his precious newspaper out of his hand and blurting, “Just for your information, I’m a virgin. Or up until five minutes ago, I was a virgin.” But the consequences of my actions frightened me. I feared he might laugh at me. I didn’t need to feel more insignificant and used than I already did.
Unfortunately, the aftershocks of my insane orgasm were not dying down, and in fact, intensified with the friction of the train zooming over the tracks. Overwhelmed by the long day’s events and a mixture of remorse and regret, I set my comfy leather chair into a reclining position while Ari pulled out his iPhone from his briefcase and caught up on emails. His skilled hands moved quickly on the touch screen keyboard. God, he was good with those fingers! But he continued to ignore me as if I didn’t exist. With a heavy heart, I peered out the window and again soaked in the scenery. An empty feeling washed over me at the memory of his fullness inside me. Before long, I could no longer keep my eyes open and drifted off.