Gloria's Revenge (19 page)

So now, I knew Trainman’s full name. Ari Golden. Fitting for the golden-haired warrior. Later tonight, I would Google him and find out everything there was to know.

Holding my hand, Ari followed an attractive, mini-skirted hostess who kept looking back at him, past the jammed bar and table after table of chicly dressed couples and businessmen devouring lobsters. I managed to keep up on my heels and again prayed I wouldn’t do something embarrassing like breaking my ankle in front of all these diners.

Several stunning, well-dressed women stopped Ari along the way, eyeing me curiously. Ari politely acknowledged each of them with a quick smile and a nod.
Former passengers on a train?

The booth to which we were led was in the far corner of the restaurant. It could easily accommodate four more people, but we had it all to ourselves. I sat on one side, Ari on the other.

A waiter came by shortly, and Ari ordered for the two of us. Two Manhattans, Caesar salad, and a four-pound lobster to share.

I was happy when the Manhattans arrived at our table. I still felt super-nervous in front of this man. I didn’t know what to talk about. I took several consecutive gulps of the drink. The velvety, cold liquid, another first, went down smoothly and loosened me up. A little.

Twirling his Manhattan cherry by the stem, Ari eased into conversation. “Sarah is a beautiful name. It means ‘princess’ in Hebrew.”

My mother had told me that once, but I was the last thing from being a princess. Tomboy, geek, plain Jane, yes. But not princess. “Thanks,” I said in a tone that was more dubious than flattered.

He removed the cherry from his drink and flicked it with his tongue. “I’ve seen you many times before at the 30th Street Station.”

I gulped. He had been spying on me? He really was a stalker.

“Were you visiting someone there?” He popped the cherry into his mouth and swallowed.

I nervously nodded.

“Oh, a boyfriend?”

“No, my mom,” I replied, taken aback by his question. “She’s being treated for cancer at The Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania.”

All the emotions I had bottled up broke loose. I don’t know what caused it. The wine. The Manhattan. The cherry. Or a combination of all three. Tears that had been welling up in my eyes on and off all day, streamed down my cheeks.

Before I could apologize for my emotional outbreak, Ari leaned into me and brushed them away with his thumbs. With a tenderness that surprised me.

“I’m sorry,” I sniffed.

“Don’t be.” His voice embodied genuine compassion. “I lost my father to cancer several years ago.”

So, we had something in common. Or close enough. Fingers crossed, my mother would go into remission.

“What kind?” I asked hesitantly.

“Lung.” Sadness filled his voice. “He was a smoker.”

“My mother has lung cancer too, but she never smoked a day in her life.” Anger from this unfair fate rose fast and furious inside me. Just in time, the Caesar salads arrived. I picked at mine, my appetite suddenly gone. Trainman dug into his, sheepishly gazing up at me with each forkful.

“Sarah, cheer up!” It was almost a command. “Here comes the lobster.”

My eyes grew wide at the sight of the monstrous red-shelled creature that our waiter set down in the center of our table. On either side of the platter, he placed a couple of nutcrackers and pickers. Tying ample plastic bibs around our necks, he bid us,
“Bon appétit.”

My anxious eyes darted back and forth between the lobster and Ari’s face. I had never eaten a lobster before and had no clue where to begin.

He was a god. And a mind reader. “Watch. Use the nutcracker and start with the tail. The most succulent part.” Squeezing the utensil, he skillfully cracked the creature’s tail and then plunged one of the slim two-pronged forks into the meat. “Taste,” he ordered after dipping the snowy meat into a side of melted butter.

I opened my mouth and let him feed me the buttery piece of lobster meat. Oh, God, it was good. Rich, melt-in-your-mouth good. I instantly wanted more.

“Your turn.” A wry smile curled on his face. “But, I want you to crack a claw. The next best piece of meat.”

Taking the nutcracker, I wrapped it around one of the lobster’s large claws. I pressed hard, but the shell would not crack

Suddenly, under the table, I felt Ari grab at a naked calf. He pulled off my Jimmy Choo and moved my foot to the crotch of his expensive jeans. The soul of my foot sat directly on the warm bulge between his muscular thighs. Gripping my ankle, he rubbed my foot up and down. Slowly. Then faster. The mound hardened and expanded while my foot caught fire.

I fumbled with the nutcracker. I still couldn’t crack open the damn claw. I was totally distracted.

“I’m hungry,” growled Ari. He rubbed my bare foot faster and harder against his member. The rigid rod beneath his jeans tensed further. Absent-mindedly still working on the claw, I gazed at the man sitting across from me; his eyes were closed, his lush lips parted and his back slightly arched. His erection thrust deep into the arch of my foot and gave way to a spasm beneath my sole that made my toes curl.

And at that very moment, the claw cracked opened, the tender white meat inside exploding through the shell. I plunked the two-pronged fork into a chunk and slid it into Ari’s parted lips. His eyes remained shut as he moaned, “Mmmm.”

I delighted in the pleasure I could give this gorgeous man.

He savored the meat in his mouth and then opened his eyes. I watched him swallow.

“My princess, that was delicious.”

I flushed at his compliment. And he called me his princess!

“And now for dessert.” With a hungry smile, he picked up a spoon and let it fall under the table. “Whoops. Excuse me.”

Puzzled by his behavior, I watched as he gracefully slid his sculpted body under the table to retrieve it.

Remembering my bare foot, I quickly wiggled my toes back into my shoe. A hand gripped my ankle and yanked my foot out before I could set my heel down. A moist, warm mouth descended on my big toe and sucked it up and down feverishly. Tingles shot up my leg, all the way up to my crotch. Oh my God! Dessert had arrived.

Having enough of my big toe, he nibbled and sucked the rest of them. Delicious pain followed by delicious pleasure. He bent my foot backward and moved his mouth to my heel. His tongue glided, like a slow roller coaster across my high arch, making its way back to my toes. The sensation sent a shiver up my spine. Who knew that the soles of my feet were so sensitive?

Holding my foot gently in his palms, his tongue continued its journey up my long, naked leg. The sensation was ticklish, yet strangely erotic. I did some back arching of my own. When it reached my thigh, his hands firmly pulled my legs apart. Oh, God. Here came the icing on the cake.

Instead of the warm tongue I was expecting, the back of the spoon pressed against the folds of my pantyless pussy. The unexpected chill of the metal jolted me. He circled the spoon around my cleft, arousing me further. I clenched my fists and moaned inwardly. Oh, God. What this man could do me!

Pulling up my dress as high as it would go, he let his tongue take over. It figure skated across the surface of my folds, performing all kinds of tricks, from spins to figure eights. My patch of ice was melting, turning into one steaming hot wet river. His ever-so fit tongue stroked furiously. The pressure between my legs mounted—I wanted to scream! I bit down on my lips—
Oh, please let me come!
—and finally an explosion gave me the relief I’d been craving.

He re-emerged from under the table, with the spoon tipped in his luscious mouth, as if he were savoring the last bit of sweet creamy frosting. Removing it, he languidly rolled his tongue over his upper lip and murmured, “Saarah, I hope you enjoyed dessert as much as I did.”

“It was amazing,” I gasped, still vibrating below.

His lips curled into a dimpled, satisfied smile.

I stared at his beautiful face, realizing that I still knew so little about this man who had robbed me of my virginity and made me explode with ecstasy now more than once.

“What do you do?” I asked, finding the courage to interrogate him.

“I’m a businessman.”

“So, you were on a business trip to Philadelphia today?”

“No, my company is based there. I commute back and forth every day.”

That was a big distance to travel twice a day, but obviously his employer made the trip worthwhile.

“And what do you do?” he asked, his voice flirtatious.

“I work for—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Ari leaped up from his seat.

My eyes followed him as his long legs strode to the front of the restaurant. And then my heart leapt into my throat.

The gorgeous redhead! And she was in Ari’s arms.

My emotions skipped over jealousy and sprinted straight to rage. How could he do this to me? And so shamelessly right in front of me?

Without putting on my other Jimmy, I jumped up from the table and hobbled over to them. If people were staring at me, I was oblivious. The redhead regarded me suspiciously. As if I were in a league below her and didn’t belong here.

His face, however, brightened. “Saarah—”

“Don’t ‘Saarah’ me.” In a single smooth move, I yanked off my other Jimmy and flung it at him. “You can keep your damn shoes,” I shouted. I stormed out the front door, pretty sure I would not be returning to The Palm any time soon. Make that ever.

With tears pouring down my face, I headed west on Forty-Fifth Street. I hadn’t brought along my messenger bag with my wallet, so I was going to have to walk home barefoot. Fortunately, the night was still warm.

Tears kept coming. Past Third. Past Lexington. Past Park. Happy, laughing young couples, taking advantage of the fine weather, passed me by, but they were just a blur.

I wanted to get him out of my mind. Erase him forever. But I couldn’t. The inner throbbing just would not go away. I hated him. I hated her. And hated myself most of all. How could I be so stupid to fall for this callous man? To give him my body, pure and unadulterated? To trust him? My mother had always told me to wait for someone who really loved you. She made the mistake of not—and had to raise me as a single parent. I should have listened to her words of wisdom. And right now, there was nothing that I wanted more than to talk to my mother. To tell her everything. To hear her consoling words. And feel her loving embrace.

When I got home, I was going to take a scissors to his little black dress and shred it to pieces. I was going to go back to who I really was. Sarah, plain and tall.

~

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Seduced by the Park Avenue Billionaire
. And now a special excerpt from my dear friend, Adriane Leigh’s ,
The Mourning After.
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The Mourning After

By Adriane Leigh

Prologue

“A
NYONE ELSE?” A deep voice echoes down the hallway.

“Please just leave her,” he says groggily.

A grunt echoes up the stairs and then I shut my eyes to the world around me. I hear random screams and moans and then sometime, maybe hours later, or minutes, or days, I hear a popping noise. I don’t know what it is and my brain no longer has the ability to expend the energy to figure it out. My mind has shut down and the only thing I can hear is screaming. It seems as if I scream for days. Months. I’ve been screaming for years.

Chapter One

“S
o you know how you said you had nothing going this summer?” I called my best friend from a coffee shop off the freeway just over the North Carolina state line.

“Yeah?” The hesitation clear in her voice.

“I’ve got something for you.” The excitement rippled through my voice.

“Since this is the first time you’ve sounded excited in a while, I’m all ears.”

“Great. I bought a house.”

“What?” Drew’s voice shrieked over the phone. I held it away from my ear with a smile on my face.

“I want you to spend the summer with me; it needs fixing up, but you can help me pick out paint colors and all that.”

“Wait, you and Kyle bought a house?”

“Not really. I bought a house. Kyle didn’t have much say in it.”

“Georgia Hope Montgomery! Did you break up with Kyle?” Her voice rose more than a few octaves.

“No, I’m just staying at the house this summer to fix it up and then I’ll rent it out next summer. You should see it Drew, it’s amazing.” I finished on a dreamy sigh.

“I don’t know. Dad probably wouldn’t be keen on me being away all summer. D.C. is far away.”

Drew was the accountant for her dad’s construction company. I knew she wouldn’t have a problem working from the beach all summer even if she would be more than a few hours away. “Please come. You can crunch numbers from anywhere, Drew. Let’s spend the summer together! We haven’t spent much time together since college. Silas has already agreed; it will be a blast. And it’s not in D.C.”

I heard a huff from her end.

“Where is it?” She sighed.

“That’s the best part, Drew, it’s on the beach.” My grin grew impossibly wider even though no one was there to see.

“The beach? Like, the
ocean
beach?” I could hear the excitement rising in her voice.

“The one and only. It’s thirty minutes outside Wilmington, North Carolina. I promise there’s plenty to do there, you can troll for hotties—there’s plenty of clubs…” I trailed off.

“You had me at beach. Although Silas…” She groaned when she mentioned one of my other closest friends since college. Silas and I were nearly inseparable. We’d both moved to D.C. after college when Drew had moved home to Jacksonville. She’d been bummed to be moving away from us; we’d had endless amounts of fun in college, but she and Silas bickered like an old married couple most days. For whatever reason, they did not click like he and I did. Perhaps it was because she had more competition when they trolled for men at the clubs. Silas was ridiculously charming and deliciously hot and operated under the assumption that he could turn even a straight man bi for at least one night.

“I know you love him deep down.” I grinned. “I’ll tell him not to hit on anyone you bring home,” I teased.

“Actually,” I could hear the grin in Drew’s voice, “I’m seeing someone.”

“More than once?” I coughed on my drink.

“Yes, more than once. We’re pretty serious. He’s amazing in bed.” She sighed wistfully.

“How long have you been sleeping with him?” I rolled my eyes. Drew was famous for her unapologetic one-night stands.

“A few weeks.”

“Met him at the bar?”

“No,” Drew deadpanned as if she were offended by my question. “He came into the office, he had a meeting with Dad. He’s sexy, Georgia, like
really
sexy. Big and tall and cut, and you should see how big―”

“Great, thanks. He sounds great.” I interrupted her before she could finish her sentence. “Back to the subject. Will you come? Take the summer. You, Silas, and me. We’ll soak up the sun on the beach all summer.” I heard an audible groan on the line.

“It won’t be complete without you.” I lowered my voice.

“Well, there’s a bit of a minor detail I failed to mention.”

“What?” I asked.

“Gavin, he’s―”

“Who?” I scrunched my nose.

“The guy I’m seeing,” she said.

“Oh, right. Tall, dark and handsome.”

“Right. So Gavin is having a house built this summer and is a bit homeless right now until it’s finished so he’s been staying with me,” she said the last part in a rush.

“You’re living with him?” I groaned.

“I couldn’t just leave him out in the cold,” she said.

“Right, and I’m sure the fact that he has a big d—”

“It doesn’t hurt…Unless I want it to…” She giggled and I groaned.

“How old is he, Drew?” I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see. Drew had been known to date men far out of her age bracket, and I wanted clarification before we went any further.

“Same as us—twenty-seven.”

“Surprise of surprises,” I mumbled.

“What?” Her irritated tone made it clear she’d heard me just fine.

“Nothing. So, you want Gavin to come too? Doesn’t he work?”

“From home. He’s an entrepreneur.”

“Aren’t they all?” I huffed.

“No, really. He does well with it if the house he’s building is any indication.”

“Ok, great. So Gavin can come too. I’ll put you in the room farthest from mine so I don’t have to hear your love romps.”

“I don’t know about love romps, but the man can fuck like a—”

“Great Drew, thanks. It’s going to be a great summer, I can see it now.”

“It will. I’ll call you once I make some arrangements. When do you want me there?”

“Tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow?”

“I signed the papers today. Got the key, and I’m headed there now. I’m a few hours away. Silas is meeting me there. Just come whenever you can.”

“Okay, G. I’ll call you later.”

“Great. I gotta go. I want to make it there before dark.” I looked at the sky and noticed how late it was getting.

“Okay.” Drew paused for a moment. “Are you okay, G?” A few silent beats of my heart echoed in my ears.

“Yeah.” A frown crossed my face as I answered.

“Okay. Can’t wait to see you.” Her voice chirped in my ear.

“Me too.” The frown was still whispering around my lips.

“I’ll call you.”

“Bye.” I pushed
end call
on my phone and stared at it for a few moments as I stood in the coffee shop’s parking lot. I knew I should call Kyle but he was not on my list of favorites right now.

He’d been more than a little angry at my spontaneous beach house purchase, especially since I hadn’t consulted him on the deal. Frankly, I hadn’t wanted his help. He had a tendency to bulldoze any negotiation he was part of, and he wasn’t interested in heading south anyway. He worked in Washington, D.C. as an attorney seventy plus hours a week hoping to make a name for himself in the growing firm. That left me alone a lot. I managed a boutique hotel a few blocks from The Smithsonian that I loved, but evenings and weekends alone had me lonely and ready for a change.

The Carolina shore had always been my dream and suddenly I’d woken one morning and had started browsing real estate sites. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, but it didn’t take long for me to land on a weathered, multistoried beach cottage outside Wilmington, North Carolina. Despite the fact that I’d gone to Duke University in Durham, I hadn’t had a chance to spend much time at the shore. I was probably drawn to the beach from the Nick Sparks novels I’d devoured throughout college. Regardless, I’d called about the house that same day. The multilevel, shingled beach house with twisting staircases and whitewashed porches spoke to me.

Silas and I drove down there one Saturday while Kyle was at the office. We drove, we saw, I offered asking price, and by the time we were back in Washington it had been approved. Needless to say, Kyle was not as excited as I was. But I’d gotten a degree in hospitality and my intention had always been to own a bed and breakfast or my own boutique hotel someday. It was exactly the change of scenery I’d so desperately needed, and I reassured Kyle it would only be for this one summer. After that I would rent it out, beach rentals were big on the shore.

I was absentmindedly scrolling through my contacts list as I sipped my Frappuccino and thought about my past with Kyle.

I’d moved into the house next to Kyle’s when I was twelve in a upper middle class neighborhood outside Richmond, Virginia. He had been outgoing and friendly, while I was shy and withdrawn, yet somehow we’d become fast friends, then as we’d hit puberty our hormones took over. We’d giggled and held hands and talked about getting married. He’d been my first kiss. When we were a few years older we had made out in the back seat of his car on Saturday nights and had snuck into each other’s bedrooms after dark. Kyle and I had had some rough patches in high school. We’d broken up for a few months, I’d cried when he had held hands with another girl, but it wasn’t long before we were back together. Kyle was my comfort, my home. The world had felt strange and awkward without him; I had felt strange and awkward without him.

Kyle had graduated a year ahead of me and had gone to Duke. He’d gotten a scholarship there and their law school was top notch in the East. The first year he’d been gone had been torture for me. Duke was nearly three hours away from our sheltered little town. He’d come home whenever he could and I had visited often, but I’d still missed him more than I had cared to remember. I’d been lost without him, so it hadn’t a surprise when I had followed him the minute I’d graduated. We’d lived on campus for a few years and then had lived in a small apartment together that was tiny but clean. But the further he’d gotten into his degree, the less I’d seen of him. It had been at that point that a slow shift had begun to take place. Kyle had taken too many classes every semester, had picked up internships and had spent late hours at the library or at his advisor’s office studying and setting the wheels in motion for his future. I’d known it was necessary, but that hadn’t made it any less painful. I’d known a life with him would be worth it in the end and he’d promised the late nights and long hours spent away would be over soon. It had always been, “just let me get through this semester, just ‘til I graduate,” and then it’d become “when this internship is over, after my first promotion.”

The long days and late nights still hadn’t ended and things had grown strained. After more than eight years of supporting Kyle while he’d earned his law degree and then had started at a prestigious law firm in D.C., I finally broke. I saw Silas much more than I saw Kyle. I think Kyle resented coming home at midnight and finding Silas and I curled up on the couch together with ice cream watching The Notebook. Kyle would walk in and heave a sigh and then loosen his tie and head for the bedroom. Some nights I followed him in after Silas left, other nights Silas and I would stay together huddled on the couch and finish our movie before I would crawl into bed with Kyle, long after he was asleep. I knew we weren’t in a good place, but he was my entire heart and I still had faith that just one more promotion, just another year at the firm, and his schedule would ease up. We could buy a house and start a family. Maybe live outside the city. I still had the dream for our future that we’d conjured together when we were fifteen and I refused to let go of it.

A part of me felt guilty for making this monumental decision in my life without Kyle, but I’d been suffocating in D.C., so I couldn’t allow myself to have regrets. By the time I’d packed clothes and some essentials for the summer, Kyle was no longer mad. We were past that. It wasn’t our style to shout and scream, but there had been tension. He’d kissed me and said he would visit as soon as he could. I’d nodded with a smile. I even thought these few months might be good for us. Maybe we would come back reconnected. These last few years I’d been the effect to Kyle’s cause, but now I would be doing something that would be mine.

I got to his name on my contacts list and paused. The man I loved, the man who had always been there for me through thick and thin, the man I was leaving for the summer. It would be the first time we would be apart for such a long amount of time but the excitement of following my dreams eclipsed any sadness I had.

I exited my contact list and tossed my phone on the seat beside me then got back in the car and continued south.

“Took you long enough. How many potty breaks did you take?” My charming best friend leaned against his car door with a grin on his face. He looked like a natural on the beach with flip-flops, cargos, and a bright green polo shirt. His bronzed skin and perfectly styled, sandy blond hair a clear indication that he took care to look good.

I took a few steps toward him and stopped, gazing up at the sprawling beach house. My eyes locked on the white shutters, the multiple decks, the wooden staircases, and weathered shingles; it took my breath away. I closed my eyes and inhaled the salty sea breeze, caressing my face and whirling my dark hair. The call of gulls swooped overhead, a far cry from the sounds of the city that I’d just left.

“Earth to Georgia.” Silas grinned, throwing an empty styrofoam coffee cup at my head.

“I stopped for coffee a while ago and called Drew.”

“How’s that hussy doing?” Silas mumbled as he pulled a duffel bag out of the back seat of his car.

“You can ask her tomorrow.” I grinned.

“What? Fuck,” Silas swore as he knocked his head on the doorframe of his car. I hadn’t told him that I was going to invite Drew.

“She’s bringing her new man candy.”

“Of course she is.” He rolled his eyes. I laughed and faked a punch on his arm before heading back to my car and getting my own duffel bag. “Ready sport?”

“Enough with the macho names,” he grumbled, in a sour mood no doubt because Drew would be in his life for the rest of the summer.

“Fine, cupcake. Let’s go in.” I grinned and he followed me up the first set of steps to the front door.

The beach house was built on wood pilings that elevated the first floor nearly twenty feet above the sand. The ground level on the beach was semi-enclosed and served as storage space. The house was less than a hundred yards off the water and surrounded by rolling dunes and swaying grass. When the realtor walked us through the house she assured us that the water rarely made it up this far on the beach, but the house would be protected if it did. Hurricanes were another issue entirely and she’d suggested I have a hurricane safety inspection done to make sure the house could withstand hurricane-force winds. He could also instruct me on what to do in the event of an impending storm.