Trainwreck 2 (Trainwreck #2) (19 page)

Spending so much time together, we really got to know each other. While our courtship had been short, it felt like a lifetime. The more I learned about him, the more I loved him. Every day, he fed me, bathed me, and sent me flowers. He also changed my dressings and made sure I took all my medications—a cocktail of antibiotics and painkillers—regularly. Ben made me lots of adorable get-well cards and played with Jo-Jo the cat, who moved in with us. The cat had no problem adjusting to his new Park Avenue digs.

By the second week, I was a lot stronger and able to put pressure on my foot. Clutching Ari with one arm and a crutch in the other, I could make it back and forth from our bed to the living room couch; I joked it felt like running a marathon given how big the apartment was. We watched old episodes of
Power Rangers
, and laughed at all the silly monsters. I told him I was secretly in love with the Green Ranger when I was growing up and that I still was. At this confession, the green with jealousy monster reared its ugly head, and controlling my laughter, partly because it hurt to laugh, I had to tell my possessive, controlling fiancé that
he
was my Green Ranger. I was rewarded with a superhero kiss, the first of many.

Feeling better and better with each day, I was itching to get back to work, but Ari wouldn’t have it. I was also itching to have Ari’s body, but he wouldn’t let me have that either. He felt I was still in no condition for him to consume me. He was wrong. The only solace I had was that I knew it was as hard for him as it was for me. His constant hard-on was an ongoing reminder. We weren’t allowed to touch each other because he felt we would get carried away—that he would maul me or I’d be the death of him. Hence, the only pussy he played with was Jo-Jo. It only made me want him more.

I wanted to get outside, but that wasn’t happening either. Well, I suppose if one had to be holed up somewhere, Ari’s magnificent Park Avenue penthouse wasn’t a bad place to be. Lauren, who had made a speedy recovery after being released from the hospital, came to visit. She brought me dozens of bridal magazines from around the world, and we thumbed through them together looking for the perfect wedding dress. Despite her broken engagement, she was genuinely happy that I was marrying Ari. Miss Know-it-All had called it—that we would end up together.

“Where are you going to register?” she asked as we flipped through a French magazine. “Bloomie’s has the best china and housewares department.”

I told her that Ari and I had everything we needed. Instead of gifts, we were asking friends, family members, and well-wishers to make a donation to Meds Without Borders. Lauren rolled her eyes. I was glad to hear she was back in therapy for her bipolar disorder and her addiction to bad boys. Of course, she already had crush on her therapist, who was one of New York’s hottest bachelors. I never told her that Taylor had hit on me. Sometimes, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. Other times, it can change your life.

Mrs. Blumberg also stopped by and brought me some of her freshly baked
rugelach
as well as some homemade chicken soup. I told her how beholden I was to her that fateful night, and she told me she prayed that I would make it through. She was going to miss not having me as a neighbor, but I promised that I would see her regularly. And I meant it. She asked me how my mother was doing and I told her well. To my utter surprise and happiness, she was allowed to continue her experimental drug treatment. Ari had called her while I was in the hospital and told her about everything that had happened to me, assuring her that her warrior princess was all right. Once I was up for it, I called her daily. She promised she’d be out of the hospital for my wedding come hell or high water. She was overjoyed that I was marrying Ari and couldn’t wait to meet him. I told her that when I was fully recovered we would both come to visit her at the hospital. The feeling was mutual—I couldn’t wait for her to meet my future husband or for him to meet my wonderful mom. For the first time, I had the feeling that my mom was going to beat the beast that had tried to devour her. Just like me, she was a warrior.

Fernando stopped by at the end of the week, bringing me every tabloid on the planet and sharing all the office gossip. Catherine’s “fatal cab accident”—which I miraculously survived—was the talk of the office. It was rumored to be grisly. Some had even heard that Catherine was decapitated. I had no idea how Ari somehow managed to spin the story. Not even Fernando knew the truth and likely never would. The other big talk around the office was—who was going to replace her? Names were circulating. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to report to another evil bitch.

Over the weekend, Fernando stopped by again and we worked on Combat Wombats. It was really coming together with an extensive toyline that included a fun backstory for the environment-protecting marsupials. Ben loved the concept and designs, which made him a great source of inspiration.

Over the three weeks I recuperated, Ben and I spent a lot of time together, reading stories, and playing games. The cutie pie finally beat me at Pac Man. And I taught him how to hang a spoon from his nose. One morning, when we were having breakfast together, he asked me, “Sarah, after you and Daddy get married, can I call you Mommy?” An amused smile crossed Ari’s face. I started to cry. Tears of joy. “Of course!”

At the end of the third week of my convalescence, I got a phone call from Ike. My heart hammered at the sound of his gravelly voice. I’d been out of the office so long I thought he might be calling to fire me. And then he broke the news. My heart did a somersault and after hanging up, I literally did a happy dance. I wasn’t fired. Instead, I was being promoted to be the Director of Boys’ Toys! And my new job came with a fabulous compensation package and Catherine’s former office. Ari couldn’t have been happier for me and that night he threw me a small impromptu dinner party to celebrate with his family. Gwen came over with her husband Greg and so did Ari’s mother. By the end of the dinner, thanks to Ben, we were all laughing and hanging spoons from our noses. For the first time, I lost at my own game because Ari had decided to play his own little game of footsie under the table. Yup, I was feeling better!

On the night before I was set to go back to work, Ari and I were watching
West Side
Story
on Netflix, snuggled naked together in his four-poster bed under the fluffy comforter. While I’d seen this movie a dozen times, for Ari it was a first. We were at the very end. The part where Maria is holding Tony in her arms as he dies. I was bawling for the umpteenth time.

Ari turned to me and wiped away my tears. “Baby, I’m never watching this movie again. Do you seriously cry every time you see it?”

I nodded with a loud sniffle.

“You’re just lucky your tears make you more beautiful, my princess.”

His sweet words only made me cry harder. I was a blubbering mess.

He flutter kissed my neck, licking the tears off my flesh before they rolled onto my now exposed healing gash. “There’s only one cure for tears,” he whispered in my ear.

He rolled over to his side. “Face me,” he ordered.

I did as he asked and rolled onto my side, happy it wasn’t the one with the stab wound. We were now side by side, facing each other, just a palm’s width apart.

Beneath the comforter, I felt his familiar fingers between my legs. They stroked my cleft, instantly bringing a rush of wetness to the sensitive folds. Yes, I was wet with want. Desperate. It had been too long.

“Fuck. You’re so hot and wet for me, princess,” he moaned as he moved to my clit. He circled it slowly, then picked up speed, pressing harder. My pussy heated up with his touch until it was blazing with fire.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked with that deep, sexy growl I had so missed.

I’m not sure if he meant if I was well enough or wet enough for him. It didn’t matter. Adjusting my body so that one leg was curled around him, I wrapped my fingers around his velvety hot shaft and inserted it into my hungering pussy. I moaned as he slid in his splendid cock, inch by delicious inch, until it hit my magic spot. His mouth crushed into mine before I could shriek with pleasure. Oh, God! It felt so good to have him inside me again. I didn’t hold back from telling him. Nor telling him that I loved him.

While his tongue made love inside my mouth, his glorious cock made love to the rest of me. It was different this time. The strokes were slow, deep, and deliberate as if he wanted to remember each one. Folding my arms around his shoulders, I urged him to go harder and faster as I squeezed my muscles around his length while he picked up his pace and banged me with all he had. All aboard! We were heading toward the same place. Our final destination.

About to come long and hard with him in his bed for the very first time, I knew our journey together had just begun.

Ari

O
ver the past three weeks I had loved Sarah with all my heart and all my soul.

I loved taking care of her.

I loved going to sleep with her.

I loved holding her in my arms.

I loved waking up to her.

I loved her every waking minute and couldn’t wait to see her each night in my dreams.

She had made me realize how much I missed having a woman—someone to love—to share my bed with. Spend my life with. She was my oxygen. I needed her as much as the air I breathed. And I wanted her as much as life itself.

Tonight, now that she was well enough, I was reclaiming her body. I was making love to her. Slow beautiful love, savoring each long stroke, her tight chasm of heat, making love to her the way I should have the first time instead of recklessly fucking her like the raging beast I was on the train. Face to face. Heart to heart. Breath to breath. Treating her with the gentleness and reverence that was reserved for a virgin. We had the rest of our lives to fuck like there was no tomorrow. And God knows, we both knew that was possible.

“Princess, how do you feel?” I breathed into her mouth, hoping I wasn’t hurting her in any way. The last thing I wanted to do was rip her apart and make her wince in pain.

“Oh God, Ari, I’ve missed you so much!”

I took that along with her impassioned face as a sign that she was loving our reunion as much as I did. Being apart had felt like an eternity.

“Me too, baby. Me too.” It was so fucking good to be home. I belonged inside her. Her pussy was my castle, her heart my kingdom, and I was going to rule it until the day I died.

Holding onto her haunches, I pumped in and out of her, slow and steady, my cock swelling, filling her with all I had. Every thrust felt better than the one before, bringing us both closer to the edge. But there was no hurry. As much as I wanted to coat her with my cum and feel her quiver with waves of bliss all around my cock, I wanted to last inside her as long as I could.

“Baby, I have to tell you something,” she whispered as I continued to make beautiful love to her.

“What, princess?” I grunted out as I hit her womb again.

Upon contact with that spot that drove her crazy, she let out a moan. I slid my cock back down her wet heat waiting for her to answer.

“I haven’t been taking my birth control pills. They’re still in my apartment.”

And I wasn’t wearing any protection. But instead of letting this news rattle me and stop me from making love, it only revved up my drive and my passion, fueling me to give her the best orgasm she ever had. Unable to stop myself, I drove into her harder, faster and moved my fingers to her clit, working it with magic and vigor. I desperately needed to fuck her. Claim her. Make her know she was mine. And that’s just how she wanted it, begging me to go even harder. Fuck. There was nothing better than hearing the woman you loved tell you she loved your cock and wanted it harder. My breathing grew ragged as did hers, and not before long, her moans morphed into whimpers and whimpers into sobs as our runaway love approached its destination, my cock passionately ramming into her, fast and furious like a high-speed train.

“Yes!” she cried out as I thrust my cock one last time against her womb and came simultaneously with a climax of epic proportions.

“Saarah! Saarah! Saarah!”
Oh, my princess!

I screamed out her name so loudly I thought I would awaken both Ben and Luisa. It had been so long since I’d made love to a woman in bed. My bed. My orgasm, like none other I’d ever experienced, barreled through me. I thought I’d gone to the moon and back.

As my release bathed her, I held her tightly in my arms and silently recited my upcoming wedding vows. I promised:

To protect her.

To cherish her.

To love her.

Forever.