Stories From The 6 Train

by Alexis Angel

  Amy tries to chime in, undeterred at the snub. "Actually, I can give you a lot of information on—"

  But Susan cuts her off, still refusing to look in her direction. It's as if she's refusing to believe she's even in the same room. "I'm sure that isn't something that Amy can help us with."

  "You're talking about her as if she weren't standing here with us," I laugh. My eyes travel between both women. Amy is standing with her hands on her hips. It's clear she isn't going to back down from Susan's dismissal.

  "I know what this is about," Amy says.

  "You're out of your element here," Susan replies. "I'm sure you know plenty about … other things … but I doubt you know much of anything in this arena."

  "Other things?" Amy says.

  "Oh come on," Susan smiles. "It's no secret what you do."

  "And what exactly is it that you think I do?" Amy asks Susan.

  I decide to jump in before the catty banter between these two women escalates into something else. What exactly, I don't know. But I don't want to find out either.

  "Now, now," I say, waving one hand through the air dismissively. "Let's give it a rest."

  "A rest is the last thing we need," Susan chimes in. "We need speed, momentum, and a clear action plan … with the right team. The clock's ticking."

  That little dig causes Amy to bristle.

  "I'm exactly what this team—" she begins to say, but I wave my hand and cut her off.

  "Both of you stop," I say. "I've already made my decision. Amy's on the team, and that's final. Now, let's all start acting like we're a team."

  I look at them both, and they're silent, so I turn to Susan and continue, "I trust Amy's judgment. I really do. Shouldn't that be good enough?"

  Susan doesn't respond, but I can tell she's taking in what I'm saying carefully. She can sense the sincerity on my face. And then I turn to Amy and address her as well. "Look, you're on probation for now. Like I just said, I trust you, but it's going to be important for you to prove yourself. You'll need to prove to me … and to this entire team that you're a good fit, and you can bring something to the table."

  For a split second I think she's going to protest, or come back with a comment of her own, but she doesn't, and I'm relieved. Finally, they both seem to understand.

  Now we can move on.

  I reach into my pocket to pull out my cell phone and open my calendar. I figure we should solidify this week's meetings. Maybe talk about next steps. Who to meet and where. PR events to attend.

  But before I can do any of that, the office door flies open and I can hardly believe who's standing in the doorway.

  The devil herself.

  Kate Meelios.

  She gives me an icy glare and stalks across my office, straight toward me. Her eyes remind me why we divorced in the first place. She's dressed to kill; a pencil skirt and a tight, white blouse. She means business. I can't help but watch the way the sharp tips of her stilettos jab and sink into the carpet as she walks.

  "I hope you're happy," she says to me as her eyes survey the room. They're cold and the color of ice. Her thin, red lips part into a serpentine smile. She looks at Amy and then at me, and shakes her head. "I hope you're happy for stealing my daughter away from me."

  "Mom—" Amy starts to say, but Susan takes this as her cue to leave the room, and we all watch as she silently leaves, hardly daring to guess what's about to come next.

  I can't remember the last time Kate's been in my office, and whatever the reason for her visit today, it can't be good.

  If only it were that easy for me, I think to myself as I watch Susan exit the room.

  "Kate, what a pleasant surprise," I say, with a sarcastic smile. Her entrance has been anything but pleasant. It's downright painful, like being squeezed by a snake.

  "Cut the crap, Parker," Kate replies, and I swear she's about ready to bare her fangs. “You hired my own daughter to defeat me from becoming Senator?”

  I don’t say anything. I don’t need to fucking say anything.

  "You do realize what this means now, right?" Kate asks, and neither Amy, nor I dare to answer.

  Kate just smiles and continues. "This means war."

  Amy

  And here we go—the gloves are off now.

  My mother stares Parker down with such a fury that the air around her seems to be simmering. There’s a vein bulging in her temple, and her lips are a thin line of contempt. Her face is contorted into an expression of seething rage, and all of her beauty seems to have evaporated.

  For a woman as beautiful as my mother is, she sure knows how to play the part of haggard evil witch.

  “What the fuck are you really doing here, Kate?” Parker asks her, turning to face her. The surprise in his voice is telling; he wasn’t expecting her, not at all.

  “I came to see if it was true… You turned my own daughter against me,” she whispers, balling her hands into fists. Jesus, she can act, which reminds me of how dangerous she really is. She’s like a coiled snake, hidden in the leaves but ready to strike and bury her fangs in the flesh of an unsuspecting victim.

  “Don’t be insane,” Parker replies, folding his arms over his chest. “No one’s turning Amy against you.”

  “How dare you lie to my face?” my mom shrieks, taking one step toward Parker as a hateful scowl takes over her face. I look from her to Parker, having no idea what I’m supposed to do here, and so I resign myself to a simple spectator.

  Susan, meanwhile, made the sanest choice available and quietly sneaked out of the room, which now makes this a family reunion of sorts.

  Just wonderful.

  “You’ve always hated me, Parker…” my mother continues, lowering her voice. “And now you’ve decided to run for the Senate just to spite me. And you brought my daughter into this as well… Don’t you have any limits?”

  “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about, Kate. Why did you come here? Just to shout at me? What the fuck do you want?” he asks her, and I see something flickering in her eyes. That’s the question she was waiting for.

  “I want you to drop out of the race,” she replies, the words flying out of her mouth with the force of a sledgehammer.

  “I see,” Parker whispers, more to himself than to my mother.

  “Drop out,” my mother repeats, and I can see the hint of a grin on her lips. She knows that he won’t drop out this easily, but just knowing that there’s a chance that this will all be over here and now is enough to make her smile.

  “Over my dead body,” Parker finally responds, narrowing his eyes and staring her down. Yeah, so much for wrapping this up.

  “That can be arranged, Parker,” my mother tells him, her voice so low that I can barely hear her. I lean back against my chair, shocked by her words, and by the honesty behind them. Why do these two hate each other’s guts like this? I never expected them to be on friendly terms, but this is simply too much. What the hell’s going on in here?

  “Hey, look, we should all calm down and --” I start, getting up to my feet, but my mother turns to me and shuts me up real quick.

  “Stay out of this,” she cuts me short, her icy eyes turning toward me. I sink down into my chair once more, realizing that this time I might be in over my head.

  “Get out. Now,” Parker says, his voice boiling with rage. He takes one step toward my mother, but she just looks him up and down with a look of disgust and, clutching her purse against her chest, turns on her heels and starts walking toward the door.

  “This isn’t over, Parker. Not by a long shot. Like I said, this means war," she whispers before bolting out of the office, slamming the door shut behind her.

  “Jesus,” I whisper with a sigh, still staring at the door as the fading click of her high heels reaches us. I know she wants me to help her force Parker out of the race, but I had no idea she intended to go bat shit crazy over this.

  What the hell was she even trying to accomplish with this? Unless… Unless she’s trying to set u
p a precedent. She’s building up a story, trying to make it look like there’s no connection between her and I. All hail the Queen of Mind Games, Katherine Meelios.

  “Are you okay?” I hear Parker’s voice, my train of thought derailing, and I turn toward him.

  “Yeah… I’m okay, sure,” I reply, not knowing what else to say. I guess that if my mother’s little act was true, I’d be shaken up by the scene. But I’ve never been a good actress and, besides, it’s not like I need to pretend right now.

  Parker’s too absorbed by his own thoughts to notice my calm demeanor; the look on his face is one of anger and calculation. Just now, he’s realizing that my mother has declared war. And when my mother goes to war, she doesn’t hold back any punches. I’d know, after all, I’m sitting inside Parker’s office as her spy.

  Suddenly, Parker walks toward the door and, without a single word, he grabs the key from his pocket and, after sliding it inside the lock, turns it. I hear the bolts sliding as he locks the door, and he finally turns to me.

  “I want you. Now,” he whispers, his serious eyes focused on me.

  “I’m right here, Daddy” I reply with a smile, getting up from my seat as my heart starts picking up the pace. The confrontation with my mother has made his blood boil, and there’s only one way a man like him can let go of his fury.

  “You’re fucking mine to do with as I please,” he hisses.

  I gulp. I’m wet.

  I can’t imagine that one of those staffers outside would be scared at this glint in his eyes.

  Lucky for him, I’m right here, eager to help him unleash all that rage of his. Even though I never wanted this assignment in the first place, I have to be honest: being at Parker’s mercy makes it all worth it.

  Amy

  Lust and adrenaline have taken over Parker and, with a flicker of unbridled savagery in his smart eyes, he starts walking toward me. I stand in place, my feet glued to the floor as he closes the distance between us. Without saying a word, he takes one hand to the nape of my neck and tangles his fingers in my hair; yanking on it, he forces me to throw my head back and I gasp, a growing wetness between my thighs.

  “Do it,” I tell him, knowing what he wants. He wants to ravage me, to unleash all of his pent-up fury upon me. “Fuck me,” I continue, looking into his eyes as a sure smile takes over my lips.

  Still in silence, he pushes me back until my ass is pressed against the edge of his desk. I place my two hands on the flat surface and pull myself up, sitting on top of the desk and spreading my legs so that his body fits between them.

  “I need you,” he whispers, breathing hard, and then leans into me and crushes his mouth against mine. I close my eyes as I feel the touch of his lips, my tongue finding its way into his mouth and dancing around his own. Placing my hands on his lower back, I let my fingers trail down to the hem of his pants, and then I slide them underneath both his pants and boxers, feeling the naked curves of his firm ass cheeks.

  “I want you,” he tells me again, pulling back from my kiss and allowing his hands to wander over to my breasts. He squeezes them both at the same time, my nipples hardening under his touch, and then starts unbuttoning my blouse, his fingers moving in a kind of patient hurry as he bares my chest.

  The moment my bra jumps into sight, I take one hand to his hair and grab it; I pull him into me and he comes willingly, pressing his eager mouth on the valley between my tits. Kissing my skin, he hooks one thumb on the left cup of my bra and pulls it down, baring one rosy tip, and then takes his mouth there. He wraps his lips around my hard nipple and starts sucking, lapping at it with his tongue.

  His free hand takes care of my open blouse, pushing it down my shoulders and arms and then allowing it to fall to the floor like some forgotten rag. I tremble as I feel his fingertips making the hike from my lower back to my shoulder blades, his touch soft but heavy with pent-up lust; finding the clasp of my bra, he unhooks it with one quick flick of his fingers and then yanks it off of me, throwing it on top of my blouse.

  “Beautiful,” he says, standing again and allowing his eyes to roam over the curve of my breasts. My pussy becomes even wetter as he looks at me, his eyes widening as a violent desire takes over him.

  “Are you just going to stare?” I tease him, running my fingers down his black tie and then un-tucking his white dress shirt with two harsh tugs. “Or are you going to make me yours?” He simply grins at my words and, for a short moment, I almost think he isn’t going to bother with an answer to my question.

  “Make you mine?” he chuckles, his deep voice sending a shiver up my spine. “I don’t need to make you mine. I already own you,” he whispers, yanking on my hair again and taking his mouth back to my nipples. He sucks on my right nipple eagerly, squeezing my left one at the same time, and I feel my eyes rolling in their orbits as he does it.

  My fingers run through his hair as he devours both my nipples, jumping between them at an erratic pace, and I lace my legs around his waist. My skirt climbs up to my hips as I do it, and I pull him into me fast, moaning as I feel the bulging shape under his pants pressing against that sweet spot between my thighs.

  With a growl, he takes one step back, forcing me to unlace my legs. Grinning wickedly, he goes down on one knee and rests his hands on my knees. Never taking his eyes off of mine, he slides his fingers up my stockings and underneath my skirt, taking them all the way to my outer thighs. He grabs at my stockings and, knowing what he wants, I lift my ass up from the desk and allow him to pull them down. I throw my head back and smile as I feel the stockings caressing my legs on the way down, but then he just pulls them almost too violently, forcing me to gasp as the sound of ripping fabric fills the whole room.

  He tears the stockings off of my legs, only stopping when they’re in tatters at my feet, and then he places his hands on my knees again. He forces me to spread my legs apart and, giving me no time to prepare, he just pushes my skirt up and dives into me, pressing his open mouth against my drenched thong.

  I bite on my lower lip, stopping myself from screaming just in time, as sweet flames of ecstasy spread from my pussy and engulf my mind. Grabbing at his hair, I pull him into me as hard as I can, closing my eyes as he starts to suck. I rock my hips against his face, the sweet pressure of his mouth on me growing and growing until I can no longer think straight.

  “Yes… That’s it…” I moan, not even knowing what the hell I’m saying. All I know is that I want him to devour me, to eat me out until he satisfies all that devious hunger of his. And, let’s be honest here; he fucks like a god, and that just makes me curious to find out what he can do with that mouth of his.

  “I can’t wait to fucking devour you,” he says, taking his face out from between my thighs and offering me a wild grin. He darts his hands to my waist and, hooking his fingers on my skirt, he pulls it down my legs harshly. I lift my ass up from the desk as he does it, and then I sit back down, this time wearing only my thong, and he takes care of that quickly enough too.

  With an expression of pure hunger on his face, he pulls my thong down but, instead of just letting it slip from his fingers and onto the floor, he takes it to his mouth and takes a deep breath. Only then does he throw it on top of my blouse and skirt, his eyes flaring with lust.

  I bite down on my lower lip as he starts leaning into me again, his parted lips aiming straight for my clit. Except, instead of going there, he turns his head to the side and starts kissing my inner thighs. He goes from one to the other, gently caressing my skin with his full lips, but never touching my pussy.

  I place both my hands on his head, grabbing at his hair again, and try to force him to press his mouth against my pussy. He resists, though, and looks up and into my eyes.

  “On my terms,” he simply says, and then he’s back on my inner thighs, his lips dangerously close to my pussy. Reaching for me with the tip of his tongue, he caresses the contour of my pussy over and over again, and then, when I’m no longer waiting for it, he finally dives into me and wra
ps his lips around my clit, pressing down on it with his tongue.

  I gasp and, remembering where I am, choke down a moan as a high voltage current climbs up my spine and explodes inside my skull. My fingers turn into claws as I grab at his hair, and I start moving my hips from side to side, rubbing my wetness across his face.

  Finally allowing that wild side of his to take over his movements, he opens his mouth wide and places it on top of my pussy, sucking on my inner lips almost too harshly. He takes them between his lips, running his tongue across their length, and then goes back to punishing my clit with clockwork precision. It’s almost like he knows my body even better than I do.

  “Oh, daddy…” I moan in a subdued tone, the sound of my voice caressing my eardrums and making my skin prickle. “It’s so good… So good…” I pant, still rocking my hips against his face as he eats me out in such a way that it’s a wonder I’m not screaming.

  He doesn’t say a thing; he simply keeps eating me out as if my pussy is the most delicious thing in the world. And that… Well, that just makes my mind kick into overdrive. To see him (and feel him) devouring my pussy as if he spent the whole day thinking about it, it’s almost too much.

  Most men look at going down on a woman as a chore, a necessary sacrifice to get what they want. But not Parker; he does it without thinking or planning, the movements of his lips and tongue like the most important thing he has ever done in his entire life. Swear to God, he’s turning this into an art form.

  “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” I whisper, grabbing at his hair so harshly I might tear some off his scalp. He doesn’t even seem to notice; he just opens his mouth even wider and, using his tongue, starts jabbing at my insides.

  There’s a pleasant buzz going on under my skin, an electric crackle making my ears pop, and I know that I won’t resist this for too long. I already feel my mind dangling over the edge, and all it takes now is a little push.