Final Destination III (6 page)

He gently set me down on my feet. Slowly, he undressed me, letting my filthy, torn clothes fall to the marble. I stood naked before him, speechless.

“Do you let your new boyfriend undress you like this?” he asked coolly.

Cringing, I lowered my head. I could not look him in the eyes.

He tilted up my head with his hand. His piercing blue eyes burnt into mine. “Saarah…”

Oh the way he said my name!

“…I did a little reconnaissance on your boyfriend…”

He spied on Fernando?

“He’s very handsome, very committed… and very gay.”

My heart was beating a mile a minute. I wanted to bow my head in shame, but his grip under my chin was too strong. In fact, he was hurting me.

His eyes burned a hole in me. “I know that one of your favorite sayings is ‘
absence makes the heart grow fonder,’
but don’t ever play that game with me. I don’t mind you playing with toys—in fact, I rather enjoy it—but I will not put up with games.” Fury filled his eyes.

I was shaking. Tears seared my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice small. Right now, the reason for the masquerade, as justified as it was, didn’t matter.

“Good,” he grumbled. “Don’t pull that shit on me again.” He softened his grip under my chin and smashed his lips into mine. Surrendering, I let his tongue search mine. The kiss was wet and passionate. Releasing my chin, he pulled away and tore off his clothes. All 6’2” of his gorgeous, golden nakedness stood before me, his magnificent member engorged and erect. He drew me against him, wrapping his strong arms around me. I folded my arms around his tight torso, and leaned my head against his warm taut chest. His hardness pulsed against my throbbing crotch, and his heart beat with mine. We were sewn together. One.

“Oh, my beautiful princess, I’ve missed you,” he whispered into my ear. “Ben’s missed you too.”

“I’ve missed you both too,” I whispered back.
More than words can ever tell you.

He nuzzled my neck, his sensuous velvet lips unlocking every erogenous zone. “Oh, baby,” he breathed, “if anything ever happened to you…”

His voice, I swear near tears, trailed off. The love this gorgeous man felt for me overwhelmed me. I ran the fingers of my bandaged hand lightly through his silky hair and the other across the muscles of his back. Beneath my fingertips, I could feel the scar left behind by the psycho bitch. I rubbed it gently. The words of my mother echoed in my head.
Fight for what you want. And for whom
you want.
“My Trainman, I will never leave you again,” I whispered.

“Oh, Saarah,” he moaned.

The fiery hardness between his legs pulsated against me. I was aching for it to be inside me.

He gathered me in his arms and gently lowered me into the tub. “Keep your knee up and your hand out of the water,” he whispered in my ear.

The bubbling hot water of the Jacuzzi tub soothed my bruised body. My aches and pains melted away. Ari crouched down beside the tub, grabbing an oversized sponge. He lathered it up, and gently washed away all the bad memories of the afternoon. I closed my eyes, inhaling the intoxicating, rich scent of the surely expensive soap and relishing each warm, sudsy stroke. I bent my neck forward to let him wash the nape and raised it like a swan to let him wash the sensitive area beneath my chin. I was his violin and he the master, his bow sliding across the heartstrings of my body. The music in my head was sad. Almost haunting. Kind of like the John William’s score for
Schindler’s List
. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I mourned for all those who had survived and for all those who hadn’t. I was born to be a survivor.

As tears continued to stream down my face, Ari gently lifted my injured hand to his lips. kissed it, and sucked each finger. Just like on the train. Except this time he was sucking out all my pain.

Letting the sponge fall into bubbling water, my healer gracefully stepped into the massive tub. Facing me, he stretched his long muscular legs on either side of me. His member was erect, hard, and hungry. He wrapped his arms around me and dove under the water between my bent knees. His tongue found my privates, stroking and washing. I moaned with ecstasy.

His head powered through the water. I beheld his beautiful face, all wet and glistening, his hair slicked back. His eyes smoldered with desire. He was mine and I was his.

He groped my breasts. Pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he pulled and massaged them in small, smooth, little circles. Closing my eyes, I could feel my buds grow hard and long. I arched my back as the erotic pleasure he was giving me beamed to my sex. Oh, the power of this god! Still twirling my nipples, he languorously snaked his tongue up my arched neck, brushing up and down where it met the underside of my chin. That area of my neck that knew no mercy. I let out a loud breathy sigh. Oh, how he knew me!

“Saarah, I want you,” he moaned. “Are you up for it?”

“Take me,” I moaned back.

He gently lifted my legs and swung them over his shoulders and then gripped my hips to steady me. “Wrap your arms around me,” he ordered. “Be careful with your hand.”

I dutifully did what he said, clasping my fingers together to secure my grip around his wet, slippery body. My injured hand throbbed, but I carefully kept it high enough out of the water so that it wouldn’t get wet.

“Are you okay?” asked my god.

I nodded. He smiled. That dazzling dimpled smile that rendered me breathless. In one smooth, swift move, he hooked his hands on my hips, yanked me forward, and inched his cock inside me. It was so hot, so hard, so big. I gasped without reserve.

“Oh, baby, you’ve got your own hot bath going on inside you. It feels so good.”

I cried out with delight. Oh, how he filled me!

He slid his hard rod down my warm, wet basin then slid it back up. He repeated the motion, but this time, holding on to him as tightly as I could, I thrust my hips forward to meet him. His groan met my moan as the tip of his hard length brushed against my hot spot.

“That’s the way,” he breathed into my ear. He picked up his pace, creating little splashes of water in the tub each time he thrust his hard length deeper inside me. We were a harmonious chorus of moans, groans, and whimpers. His pulsating, grinding member was infusing me with unbearable pleasure, and I reveled in knowing I was pleasuring him. The waves of ecstasy had started below and were traveling to my head. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on.

“NOW, baby!” roared Ari. He bit my shoulder as his organ exploded like a geyser inside me.

Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!
I squeezed his body and shrieked as glorious wave after wave of pure ecstasy swept through me. The release was exquisite. Like none other.

Ari stayed inside me, letting me bathe his still hard magnificence in our sweet, warm juices. “Oh, Saarah,” he gasped in my ear.

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 bandaged leg over the side of the tub 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 chiseled body, his member still erect and engorged.

Stepping out of the tub, he grabbed a white towel that was folded over a chrome rack and then 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, fluffy pile (obviously it had been on a heater) saturated my body. He circled his arms around me and held me close against his bare, gold-threaded chest. With both arms pinned under the towel, there was nothing I could do but rest my head on his broad shoulder and breathe in his clean, intoxicating scent. I could still feel his hardness through the towel. That and the delicious throbbing below brought awareness into my 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, and stopped in time.

His sultry voice brought me back to the moment. “Come.” He grabbed another towel and wrapped it around his waist. The golden hills and vales of his chest and arms stood out against the stark whiteness of the towel.
God, was he beautiful
! 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 followed him with ease.

Back in his office, I let go of his hand and began to explore. “This space is amazing,” I said, peering out the floor-to-ceiling window, with its spectacular view of the City of Brotherly Love.

“My palace in the sky.”

I swiveled my head. He was pulling up a new pair of perfectly pleated gray slacks over his hard, 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 dress shirt was laid out.

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

I headed over to the couch and slipped on the button-down shirt. The crisp cotton was cool against my skin and made me tingle with the feeling that I was in some way in him. As he continued to suit himself up, I walked around the 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 worldwide charity I started. My company supplies drugs and vaccines to third world countries that are in dire need of them. I believe in 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 had 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. It made me want to be there.”

Taking my good hand in his, he brought 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.

There was also one other photo that 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 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, 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 proudly. “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 placed the photo back on his desk and then framed my face with his soft hands. “Baby, what’s the matter? Are you still hurting?”

“No, it’s my mother. Her insurance is no longer going to pay for her treatment,” I blurted out, unable to hold back. Tears poured down my face.

“Saarah, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him. He wiped away my tears with his thumbs. “Fuck American medicine,” he growled, his face fierce.

“Mr. Golden, I have the clothes you wanted.”

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

Ari did not 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.”

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 peered inside. “Not exactly what I had in mind, but it’ll do.”

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

“Come, let’s get you dressed,” he said, unbuttoning my borrowed shirt. He slid it off me and slipped the sweater over my head. I wiggled my long 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, skimmed it over my narrow hips, and zipped it up. 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 elongated beneath the soft cashmere. A tingling erupted between my inner thighs. Shit! He was making me horny all over again. Where was this leading?

And 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 over to the couch to put on my combat boots. It was a struggle to lace them up with my thickly bandaged hand.

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

He crouched down in front of me and expertly laced each of them up as I admired his long deft fingers. God, those fingers could do so much!

He lifted me up from the couch and took hold of my good hand. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the company while you’re here.”