Trainwreck 2 (Trainwreck #2) (11 page)

“NOW, baby!” roared Ari.

He nipped my shoulder, and with the delicious pain, I came, my orgasm thundering through me and showering me with euphoric bliss while he exploded like a bolt of lightning, showering me with a burst of love. I squeezed his body and shrieked as this glorious outpouring of ecstasy consumed us. The release was exquisite. Like none other. All the memories of today’s unsettling events washed away. Ari stayed inside me, his still hard magnificence prolonging our sweet, sweet vibrations.

“Oh
, Saarah,
” he breathed in my ear. “That was fucking amazing.”

I was still holding on to him in the same position. I couldn’t move. It was like I was paralyzed. The gurgling water and my man’s sweet moaning was chamber music to my ears.

Finally, Ari pulled out and carefully placed my legs in a steepled position so that my bad knee wouldn’t get wet. My eyes never left him as he stood, like a god, rising from the water. Water dripped from his sculpted body, his cock still rigid and swollen.

Stepping out of the tub, he grabbed a white towel that was folded over a rack and then after helping me up, gathered me once again in his arms. He stood me on my feet and wrapped the enormous towel around me, swaddling me like a baby. The warmth of the soft, absorbent terrycloth saturated my body. He circled his sculpted arms around me and held me tight against his concrete chest. With both arms pinned under the towel, there was nothing I could do but rest my head on his broad shoulder. His intoxicating, clean scent wafted through my nose. I could still feel his hardness through the fluffy fabric. That and the delicious throbbing in my groin brought awareness into my entire being. I was lucky to be alive. Even luckier to have this gorgeous man, this god, in my life.

I don’t know how long we stood there, stagnant, stopped in time when his sultry voice brought me back to the moment.

“Come,” he commanded as he grabbed another towel and wrapped it around his hips. My eyes soaked him in. The golden hills and vales of his ripped torso stood out against the stark whiteness of the towel, especially that perfect pelvic-V.
God, was he beautiful!
The epitome of virile perfection. My heart thudding, I adjusted my towel, freeing my arms, and secured it tightly around my breasts. He clasped my good hand and led me back to his office. My knee was stiff and sore, but I managed to keep up with him.

Back in his office, I let go of his hand and began to explore. I spent time examining all the products he manufactured that were displayed in the built-in shelves and then ambled over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that surrounded his corner office. “Your office is amazing,” I said, peering out the glass and soaking in the spectacular view of the city of brotherly love. Ari clearly liked to be on top of the world.

“My palace in the sky,” he responded.

I turned to face him. He was sliding on a new pair of perfectly pleated gray slacks over his perfect, taut ass, foregoing boxers. Obviously, he must have a closet somewhere in his office.

“Miss Thatcher should be back shortly with something for you to wear. In the meantime, you can borrow one of my shirts.” He tilted his chin toward the couch, where a pale blue cotton dress shirt was laid out.

“Thanks,” I said, watching him pull up his fly. God, how I wanted to zip it back down.

I padded over to the couch and slipped on the button-down shirt. The crisp cotton felt cool against my warm skin and made me tingle with the feeling that I was in some way wrapped up in him. As he continued to suit himself up, I resumed checking out his office, stopping to admire the artwork and awards mounted on the stark white walls. One particularly large award captured my attention.

“What’s Meds Without Borders?” I asked.

Buckling his belt, he replied, “It’s a philanthropic foundation that I started. My company supplies drugs and vaccines to third world countries that are in dire need of them. I believe in helping those less fortunate than me and giving back.”

So my Trainman was as benevolent as he was beautiful; I was moved. “Have you ever visited any of these countries?”

Ari’s eyes grew soulful, showing a side of him I’d never seen before. “Last year, I went to Africa. It was an eye-opening experience. So much poverty. Malnutrition. Disease. I got to know the people. So much goodness and love. They made me want to be there.”

Taking my good hand in his, he led me over to his desk. I gazed at the framed photos, neatly arranged on the polished blond wood. Most were images of him and his son along with one of his late father. But to my shock, there was also a photo of me wistfully sketching on a bench at 30th Street Station. My hair was considerably shorter. He must have taken it at least six months ago. Had I been in his life that long? A tingle rippled through me.

Another photo also captured my attention. One of Ari in jeans and a Meds Without Borders T-shirt, holding hands with an adorable African boy with a big, toothy smile, who looked to be about the same age as his son, Ben. Six. Ari lifted the photo off his desktop.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Kamau. His name means ‘quiet warrior.’”

A warrior like Ari…and like me.

“I couldn’t save his mother’s life—she had Ebola—but I was able to save his. When I first met him, he was undernourished…all skin and bones…suffering from malaria.”

I studied the photo of the happy, robust child. “He’s beautiful.”

Ari smiled. “Yes, and smart too. I have a trust fund set up in his name so that one day he can come to America and study medicine. He wants to be a doctor.”

The mention of the word doctor transported me back to my hospital visit. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought about my mother’s fate.

Ari tilted my chin up with his other hand. “Baby, what’s the matter? Are you still hurting?”

“No, it’s my mother. The federal grant underwriting her experimental drug treatment is about to terminate,” I blurted out, unable to hold back the tears pouring down my face.

“
Saarah,
why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his smooth, bronzed chest. He wiped away my tears with his thumbs. “Fuck American medicine,” he growled, his facial expression fierce. “I’m going to—”

A loud harrumph cut him short and then…“Mr. Golden, I have the garments you asked for.”

The straight-forward female voice startled both of us, interrupting our embrace. It was Ari’s gray-haired matronly secretary, Miss Thatcher, with a large silver Neiman Marcus shopping bag in her hand. The shocked look on her flushed face mirrored my own heated embarrassment. I nervously tugged at Ari’s shirt I was wearing, impossibly trying to make it longer.

Ari, in contrast, didn’t lose his cool. “Thank you, Miss Thatcher,” he said with a hint of playful sarcasm. “You can just put the bag down. Next time, please knock.”

“Yes, sir.” Holding her head high, the prim and proper woman skulked out of the room.

“And please continue to hold my calls,” Ari shouted out as she closed the door behind her.

Ari retrieved the bag and striding back to me, peered inside. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but it’ll do.”

I wondered what he had in mind as he pulled out a pale pink cashmere crewneck sweater and matching pink gabardine knee-length pencil skirt. Miss Thatcher had obviously visited the “Career Girl” department.

“Come, let’s get you dressed,” he said, unbuttoning the shirt I was wearing. He slid it off me and slipped the sweater over my head. I wiggled my arms into the sleeves and then snatched the skirt from him.

“Mr. Golden, I am old enough to dress myself.”

He smirked as I stepped into the skirt, slid it up my long legs, and then zipped it. It hung on my hips. I had lost weight from my stressful week.

He stepped back and gave me the once over. “Actually it’s not bad. Pink suits you. It just needs a little fixing.”

Moving close, he pinched my nipples, then tugged and twirled them. They hardened and peaked beneath the soft cashmere. A tingling sensation erupted between my inner thighs. Shit! He was making me crazy with desire all over again. Where was this leading?

Then he stopped and fixated his eyes on the two buttons that had popped under my sweater. “Much better,” he grinned.

I glanced down. My nipples were very visible. I mean,
very
. I rolled my eyes and stiffly marched back to the couch to put on my trusty, scuffed up boots. Sitting down, I grabbed one, but struggled to get it on my foot with my thickly bandaged, sore hand.

“Here, let me help you,” he said with amusement, already heading my way.

He crouched down in front of me and expertly slipped them on my narrow feet, one by one.

“Princess, you really need to get a new pair of boots,” he commented as he slid the left boot over my heel. “I saw this great pair of Pradas advertised in the
New York Times
.”

I cut him off before he could go any further. “Don’t even think of buying them for me. I happen to love these boots. They’re special to me and have been through a lot.”

My mother and I had found them together at a local flea market when I was in high school just after she learned she had cancer. They were a little pricey, but my mother insisted I have them. She said they’d be my lucky boots and the truth is they were. If I hadn’t been wearing them last Friday at 30th Street Station, I would have missed my train and would have never met my Trainman. Or been with him here today.

As he laced up my boots, I admired his long deft fingers. God, those fingers could do so much! Then I watched him as he finished dressing himself. With the same deftness, he donned a crisp pinstriped dress shirt, his jacket, and a coordinating jacquard tie that had just enough blue in it to bring out the blue of his eyes. As sexy as he looked in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, there was something about him in a suit that just totally blew me away. He looked so powerful, so beautiful, and so sinfully virile. My heart hammered and my skin prickled.

“Well, I guess I should get going now,” I stammered, not really wanting to leave him. Not now. Not ever.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Not yet, my princess.” Before I could protest, he strode over to me and, lifting me up from the couch and taking hold of my good hand. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the company while you’re here.”

“Wait!” I panicked.

“You don’t need panties.” A wicked smile lit up his face.

The beautiful mind reader. I loved him so much.

###
♥
###

Golden International spanned three vast floors, each a different department. His floor was the executive floor and included a state-of-the-art conference room with sweeping views of the city. The floor below was marketing and sales. As he escorted me through the halls, I was surprised by how much everyone loved to see him pop into their office. He knew every one of his employees by name and seemed to know what they were each up to. I was also impressed by how he knew important personal things about them—like birthdays, the birth of a child, an upcoming graduation, or even a death in the family.

At the end of a long corridor, Ari ushered me into another large corner office. I recognized the stunning blond woman sitting behind the desk. It was Anne Connelly, his head of sales. The woman I’d seen him with in the Hamptons. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the two of us.

“Well, hello, Ari. Just taking a stroll?”

“Anne, I’d like you to meet my um…friend, Sarah Greene.”

She cast her eyes down at our entwined fingers. I felt my cheeks pinken as she cocked a brow. And then a warm smile flashed on her face.

“So nice to meet you, Sarah.”

“Same here.” I paused nervously. “And congratulations on the new baby.” I immediately regretted my words, but Anne seemed flattered.

“Why, thank you so much! My partner and I are very excited.” She shifted her eyes to Ari. “Well, Mr. Golden, I must say you have excellent taste when it comes to women.”

Oh, yes, she knew I was something more to Ari than just a friend. And Ari knew it too.

He chuckled. “I guess I do. I hired you, Anne, right?

She laughed. “Very funny.” She looked my way again. “Ari is throwing me an office baby shower next week. Hope you can come, Sarah. I’d love you to meet my other half, Carla.”

Before I could say a word as if I knew what to say, Ari whisked me away.

“Anne, I’m going to give Sarah a tour of the rest of our operation. I’ll see you later at the board meeting.”

“See you later. And Sarah, don’t let him get away.” She winked. “Men don’t get better than Ari Golden.”

While I flushed at her words, heat radiated from Ari as he led me out the door. I was all hot and bothered, buzzing everywhere. The chemistry between us couldn’t be denied.

“How many people work for you?” I asked, fumbling for conversation as we headed toward the elevators for a second time.

“Three hundred in this building; another two thousand around the world.”

“Wow!”

“We’re the largest privately-held pharmaceutical company in the world,” he said proudly as a pair of elevator doors slid open.

The elevator descended to the thirty-fourth floor and opened to a vast, open-plan laboratory where dozens of men and women in white jackets were huddled over state-of-the-art computers, peering through microscopes, and interfacing with other high-tech equipment that looked as if it was straight out of a futuristic movie.

“This is my favorite floor. It’s where the dream of ending world disease can come true.”

I was in awe. “I thought your company only made skin care products. Like Dermadoo.”

He flashed a smile. “Actually, Dermadoo started out as a drug to treat skin cancer, and then we discovered its anti-wrinkle benefits among others. The wild, unexpected success of the therapeutic cream has enabled us to expand our business and develop many other life-saving products.”

“Wow!” I was impressed.

“I want to show you something.” Still holding my hand, he led me to a corner where two scientists were observing a pair of caged white laboratory mice.

“Meet Major and Minor.” He was obviously introducing the cute, little rodents.