Intermission (2 page)

Dad laughs at his mistake and quickly adds to his comment. “I meant to say that you and Chloe could have a lot of fun together. Now, what would you be doing at this company? Do you want me to fire some questions at you?” Luckily, I see the entrance to the station and simply find it easier to flash him a smile and pat his leg.

“Dad, I will get a job.” But what I really want is a life.

He turns into the small parking lot fit for a movie set as I put on my pumps. Dad stops as close as possible to the ticket booth with the car idling. I grab my book and tea and delicately exit into the sweatfest of commuter hell.

“Natalie, you will be great. Call us when you leave.” Dad reaches toward my door and gives me a thumbs-up. I blush as a young kid passes by and returns Dad’s fatherly gesture with a middle finger. He’s like thirteen, but seriously . . .

“Eh, nique ta mere, you little jerk.” I lean in the car and smile at Dad. “Thank you for . . . everything.” After shutting the door, I head to the ticket booth and purchase my roundtrip golden ticket for a whopping fifteen dollars and then climb the platform to my destiny.

“Cute.” Legs rustle across from me. I’m pretty sure there were only five people waiting for the train, so which asshole marked me as someone that wants to chat? I look up to see who’s interrupting my French ASAP concentration and holy fuck, my panties may drop by telepathy!

Sandy brown hair long enough to form a little flip near his ears, smoldering navy eyes, bitable pink lips, slight shadow on his rigid jaw, thick neck . . . keep going, broad shoulders, fitted shirt, hairless chest . . . lower, muscular thighs, bulge in his crotch . . . look at his hand, ding, ding, ding, NO RING! This guy doesn’t know it, but he’s been the muse of most of my private sexual pleasure.

“Sorry?” I say, wanting him to keep complimenting me.

“Your book.” He motions to
Le Petit Prince
resting in my lap. I mean come on, it was the first thing I grabbed and now it’s going to be my ruin.

“Oh. Just a little light reading for the train.” I smile, hoping he catches my sarcasm.

“Right. I have a couple Dr. Seuss books in my bag, but I still haven’t mastered the comings and goings of Dick and Jane.” He smiles arrogantly as his knee brushes against mine. “You look vaguely familiar, Greenwich High?” He tilts his head trying to place me, and I predict that he will be placing me beneath him in the near future.

“No, I went to school in Toronto.”

“Ah, tennis club?” He runs his eyes up my legs and stops somewhere around my tits. I cross my legs in the other direction, totally toying with his boyish mannerisms. My calf is resting on the outside of his knee so he spreads his legs further apart in order to trap me inside him again. Hot.

“Do you honestly think I engage in physical activity with knockers like this?” I smile seductively as his head snaps back in laughter.

“Damn. Well I’m sure I would enjoy
you
bouncing around on a tennis court.” He licks his lips and runs his hand through his hair. C’mon, I know all the sleight of hand tricks, I’ve mastered them. I lean forward to place my hand on the inside of his thigh, right above his knee.

“I’m Natalie. We should fuck. And then maybe go to the library.” Now, before I’m deemed the supreme whore with no business being so incredibly forward, this shit works. Get it all out in the open. No confusing expectations and no prolonged banter only to find out they’re gay or married. Take the power and make him earn it! Besides, I love the way a man tries to mentally process information while his dick instantly commits to whatever I want.

“Holy shit, I thought women like you were an urban legend. I’m Zach, and before we make plans to go the library, let’s discuss the sex.” He squeezes my legs between his thighs, not the least bit thrown by my forward behavior. Zach leans forward and places his large hands on his knees, teasing the edge of my skirt with his thumbs. “Tell me, why were you in Greenwich?”

My mouth is suddenly very dry so I carefully clear my throat and smile. “Unfortunately, I live there. I’m on my way to an interview for the French Foundation . . . hence the light reading en français.”

“Sexy and smart. What do you do exactly, besides seducing rich men on trains?” Zach’s thumb makes its way under my skirt and the warming sensation beneath my panties is in hyper-drive. From the size of his hands and the dexterity of his thumbs, I can only assume his cock is thick and powerful. And did he just say
rich?

“I’m a full-time sexpot and a part-time PR expert. I specialize in making people look good.” I smile as his hand rests entirely under my skirt. “And you, heading into the City for a matinee?”

Zach’s head shakes with amusement. “You’re incredible, Natalie. Can I take you to dinner after your interview?”

“What about the library? I was looking forward to some biblio-sex.” I pout jokingly.

Zach’s masculine frame hovers over me momentarily and then squeezes next to me on the narrow two-seater. He puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to his face. His cologne is delightful and the small group of freckles spotting his nose is enough to send my nipples into a rock-hard frenzy. I’m a sucker for a man-boy.

“Natalie, I will fuck you. I’ve already pictured you in multiple positions, mostly on your knees sucking my cock, taking it deeper and deeper until it burns your throat . . . but also on top of me grinding your incredible body into physical exhaustion.” Zach leans in closer so that his lips touch my flushed cheek. “Do you believe me? Is that what you want?” He barely whispers, his breathe tickling my neck.

“Uh huh.” That’s the best I can do. Damn it, he’s using
my
ploy.

“Tickets.” An attendant is standing above me with a hole puncher and a tiny frown. Zach takes the paper ticket hiding in my book and hands it to the guy along with his laminated ticket. What the fuck? Only one type of person has a laminated train ticket, a commuter.

As soon as the attendant moves to the other car, I snap my head in Zach’s direction. “Why were you in Greenwich?” Look, I pretty much live by the motto of taking a bull by his balls and living life by the moment, but I can’t stand a liar. If this guy is married I’m going—

“My mom has cancer and I take her to her treatments every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday. My father hates those offices, watching them poke and prod her with needles.” Oh, well now I feel like shit.

“I’m sorry. That must be difficult for you. I can’t imagine what my life would be like caring for someone other than myself; I’m kinda selfish that way.” Zach angles his back to rest against the window and studies my face.

“I seriously doubt that. You strike me as a very giving person. Natalie, there’s nothing wrong with wanting something for yourself; a dream doesn’t make you selfish.” He’s amazingly sincere and warm, and it’s nice being able to talk to someone other than Chloe.

“So, do you live or work in Manhattan?” I ask.

“Both. I live Downtown near TriBeCa and work for my family’s company. Don’t judge!” He smiles boyishly, but there seems to be a hint of embarrassment behind his eyes.

“You didn’t judge me and I was reading a children’s book.” I run my hand up his muscular leg and he shifts his weight to allow full exploration.

“Are we still on for dinner?” he asks.

The train enters the dark tunnel on its non-stop plow to Grand Central and the lights flicker on and off. Zach reaches in to kiss me. It’s soft and delicate until he parts my mouth with his fierce tongue. He tastes like spearmint and lust and I return his tongue acrobatics with a few of my own tricks.

The overhead announcement crackles through the train, “Grand Central Station.” Our lips part and the oxygen returns to my brain.

“Zach, I would love to have dinner with you, I just don’t know when I will be done.” The train stops so he grabs his bag and my book and I start to stand. Zach pulls me back down to him and places his hand gently on my cheek.

“Natalie, tu es belle et intelligente, mais tu ne comprends même pas ce que je te dis. On a besoin d’explorer le plaisir afin d’oublier la douleur.”

I raise my eyebrows and smile, not having a clue what he said in its entirety. “What? I don’t know—”

Zach laughs and pulls me up with him to exit the train. “I’ll wait for you outside the interview, it won’t take long!” I really hope he’s right.

“How did it go?” Zach is leaning against a marble abstract figure outside the Foundation. I still can’t get over how incredibly gorgeous he is, but I will not allow myself to fall so quickly. This stage of my life is simply a bridge from point A to B, and although Zach could very likely be my B, I want to enjoy the journey a little longer.

“Total bomb! Fuck the French!” I say loudly as a businessman stops and frowns in disgust. Ever since 9/11, people are a little too sensitive about freedom of speech, understandable, but still a shitty way to live as a Canadian-American.

“They obviously don’t realize they’re missing out on a hot piece of ass that could help their stuffy image.” Zach offers me his hand and I gladly accept. He hails a taxi, which I’m thankful for, seeing as it’s nearly ninety degrees on hot cement and my alligator pumps are wreaking havoc on my ankles.

Once inside the smelly cab, Zach rolls up his sleeves and flicks open another button to his shirt. I stare at his tan chest, taunting me and unleashing my inner vixen. He reaches his hand to my chest and pops open another button to my flimsy shirt, revealing the lacey confinement of my breasts.

“That’s much better, don’t ya think?” His index finger skims the edge of my bra and I flinch, not from nerves, but from need.

“So where are we going?” I ask.

“Natalie, are you ignoring my flirtation?” Zach smirks as his other hand glides freely up my thigh.

“Nope, just wondering if a bed or table will be involved.” I place my hand on top his and move it to the crease my panties.

“Definitely a bed. Possibly the shower.” He reaches in to kiss the tender stretch of skin just below my ear. Tiny beads of perspiration resting at my hairline freeze as soon as his lips caress my skin. Chills run down my bare arm as his finger presses against my clit, making my top half chilly and bottom half hot with desire.

We spend the entire cab ride kissing and fondling and making each other moan. I never once look at the cabbie because there’s definitely something exciting about tormenting our driver through the rearview mirror and modesty left me somewhere around the sixth grade. We finally arrive at his building and Zach walks around to my side of the door to help me out. As I exit the taxi, I flash him my panties and a wicked grin.

“Upstairs. Now.” He moves us quickly past the doorman and straight to the elevator. It takes me a few moments to adjust to my surroundings, but wow, his building is gorgeous. Modern, yet full of mid-century character and charm. This is exactly how I imagined myself living all those nights as a Canadian teenager watching
Friends
.

When we’re alone inside the elevator, Zach traps me against the wall, presses the five button, then resumes sliding my skirt up to rest on my waist. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his lips to mine. His hands squeeze my hips as he positions his hard-on between my legs. Zach is large, no doubt, and I can’t wait to have him inside me.
Ding.

The doors slide open and Zach grabs my waist, neglecting to lower my skirt. He pulls me to the door across the hall and fumbles for his keys. He has an America flag key fob,
God Bless America
for this All-American sex god. The door flies open and he pushes me toward the living area. I step out of my painful pumps and throw my clutch somewhere near the couch. Zach tosses his bag on a nearby table then immediately grabs my face to kiss me. It’s forceful this time, rushed and messy. He licks my neck as I unbutton his shirt, but my vibrating phone messes with my mojo. We continue undressing, but then it vibrates again. Fils de Salope! He backs me up to the couch and lowers to his knees.

“Answer the fucking phone.” His eyes dart quickly from my face to my pussy as I arch my back to reach for my purse. Zach lowers my panties as the phone vibrates for the third time.