by Susan Fox
Wrapping one arm around my waist, he straightened so we were both kneeling with our upper bodies more or less upright, his chest pressed to my back. He held me steady around the waist and with the other hand reached around to squeeze my swollen nipple.
“Oh,” I sighed as sensation rippled outward. I arched, raising my hands to drag them through my hair, thrusting my breast more firmly into his hand, wanting more.
He obliged, rolling the nipple between his finger and thumb. Still he thrust into me with those long, smooth strokes, as if he could go on forever.
My body throbbed, twisted, pulled him in deeper as I climbed the slope to orgasm, impatient to get there, yet wanting to enjoy the moment.
“Kat. Look.”
“What?” Then my gaze caught our reflection in the mirror of the vanity.
We looked so hot. I was pale skinned, curvy; he was dark cinnamon, muscled. My hair was a mess of auburn curls; his was black and sleek in that tight, low ponytail. Perfect contrasts, and perfectly complementary.
That was exactly how he felt inside me. Hard and strong and male, plunging into my soft, lush femininity.
His eyes, glazed with passion, met mine in the mirror.
Again I faced that paradoxical Nav-but-not-Nav enigma. The man in the mirror looked sort of like my neighbor, yet was different in key ways. It wasn’t just the shaven cheeks, the pulled-back hair; it was the fierce passion on his face.
Watching was sexy, but too disconcerting. It made me think about things I didn’t want to. And this was no time for thinking. This was all about sensation, pleasure, as he stroked deep inside me.
I shifted my weight forward, pulling him down with me until I was on my hands and knees again. He gripped my hips, thrusting in and out, making me gasp as he penetrated all the way to my core, each stroke in and out so powerful, so erotically charged.
I couldn’t see his face. Could let myself believe he was Dhiraj.
Braced on my hands, I couldn’t even touch him. Anonymous sex. Except, it didn’t feel that way. It felt intimate. Maybe because of how tenderly he’d touched me earlier.
He drove into me hard, pistoning his hips, until I was helpless to do anything but stifle my moans of pleasure in the pillow.
“Damn, Kat, you feel so good,” he muttered, breath hot on the back of my neck. “You’re so sexy.” He nipped me, closing his teeth hard enough to cause a quick tingle of pain.
That nip only heightened my arousal, made me grind against him more fiercely as I felt my climax building. I lifted my head to gasp, “Come with me.”
“Oh, yeah.” He stroked into me again, hard and deep. Then he reached down to finger my clit.
We came apart, him burying his cry against my shoulder and me groaning into the pillow with glorious release.
After, we collapsed slowly onto the bed. I lay on my side and he spooned my back, still inside me.
A few minutes later, he pulled out and the bed shifted as he climbed off.
Trying to hang on to the pretense of anonymity, I didn’t turn to watch him walk to the tiny bathroom.
A few minutes later he curled up behind me again. “Kat? Are you all right?” His arm came around my waist, holding me gently.
“I…guess so.”
“Don’t worry so much. Just enjoy.” He spoke in Dhiraj’s voice.
Wise advice. Could I take it? I had to find out.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the handsome face that was becoming almost as familiar as Nav’s bearded one. “We’re agreed on the same rule as yesterday? This is like…a fantasy? Not real life. In Montreal, Kat and Nav will still be friends.”
A pause. “If that’s what you want.”
My brows drew together. How could he think otherwise? “Of course I do! You know how important our friendship is to me.”
He nodded, dark eyes solemn. “Best friends. You told Pritam I’m your best friend.”
“It’s true. My best friend ever.”
“You never said that before.” I realized he was speaking in Nav’s accent.
“I guess…” I rubbed my hand across my face. “I didn’t want to sound too pathetic.”
“Pathetic? Being friends with me is pathetic?” He thrust himself to a sitting position and punched a couple of pillows into place behind him, looking both wounded and indignant.
“No, no,” I hurried to say. “Being friends with you is wonderful. I only meant, here I am, thirty-one years old, and I’ve never had a friend as close as you.” Uncomfortable about being naked with him since he’d stopped playing Dhiraj, I grabbed the sheet and pulled it up.
“I’ve always had a ton of friends,” I said. “Of both sexes. But mostly we go to clubs, movies, theater, shop together, play tennis in the park. Doing stuff, often in a group. Not just two of us hanging out. Helping each other, like the way you fix things for me and pick up tourtière, and I cook you lasagna and sew on buttons.”
“We complement each other,” he said softly.
“Right.” Why did those words sound familiar? “And we support each other. I’d never realized that having a best friend could be so great.” I hugged the sheet tighter across my chest. “This is freaking me out. I can’t talk this way to Nav when I’m not dressed.”
He sighed and then said in Dhiraj’s voice, “Does this make you feel more comfortable?”
A change in voice, that’s all it was, but it was symbolic, and I did feel marginally more at ease. How ridiculous. “A bit. Yeah. If we’re going to do this, you have to be Dhiraj. Or Pritam. Or someone else. I know it’s artificial, but I need to draw that line. Nav—my friendship with Nav—is too important to me.”
In Dhiraj’s voice, he said, “Haven’t you heard of friends with benefits?”
“That’s not my style.” As I’d told Nav, the couple of times he’d suggested we date.
He cocked a brow. “And yet, in the last twenty-four hours, you’ve been to bed with both Pritam and Dhiraj.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on. It’s a game. Train flings, time limited. With people who don’t even exist. Nav exists and I want him as my friend. Long-term. I need to be able to count on him.”
“And you think sex would change that?”
“Of course it would.” Aside from this train game, casual sex wasn’t what I wanted, and it was the essence of his dating life. If I already felt twinges of jealousy when my friend came home all sexed out, how would I feel if he was also my lover?
I shook my head again. “No. I bought into this game because of the rules we set in the beginning. It’s the only way it’ll work for me.”
“I see.” He rose from the bed and walked the few steps to the ice bucket, giving me a perfect view of that perfect butt. Nav’s butt.
He stood for a long moment, and I wondered what he was thinking. Feeling off balance, I slid from under the sheet and began to scramble into my clothes.
Without turning to face me, he said, in Dhiraj’s voice, “Would you like another cold drink? Perhaps a glass of wine?”
“No thanks. I need to do a few things before dinner.” Like regain my composure.
He turned, a bottle of water in his hand. The clean-shaven face, the pulled-back hair, were pure Dhiraj. “Then I’ll see you at dinner.” It was a statement, not a question.
Relieved that he’d dropped the previous conversation, I said, “Yes, that’ll be nice.” In the dining car, with him dressed in his Dhiraj clothing, I could get back into our sexy play.
When I rounded the end of the bed in search of my shoes, I kicked the Nice ’n Naughty game board. Our energetic lovemaking had knocked it to the floor. I picked it up and put it on the bed.
“Tonight we’ll finish the game,” he said, a challenge in his voice.
We’d left off with massage, which had led to sex. What would another roll of the die, another card, lead to?
It was my turn to roll next.
I opened the door. “See you at dinner.”
“In the meantime,”
he said, a wicked gleam in his eye, “the offer’s still open to switch the prize. If you feel like two hours of Kama Sutra sex.”
I closed the door behind me and fled back to my room.
Two hours of Kama Sutra sex, with a man as sexy as Dhiraj. The notion teased my mind as I tried to nap, then took a shower. What woman could resist that offer?
So, I wouldn’t. And there’d be no more role shifting between Nav and Dhiraj. I’d made my conditions clear, and I trusted my train guy to remain Dhiraj.
Now, I really needed to focus on other things. There’d be Internet access when we reached Sudbury, and I wanted to have messages ready to send.
I typed a note to Merilee, attaching the e-vite.
Hope you and M like this, sis. If you have venue and time details, you can fill them in yourself, or let me know and I’ll revise it. But communication on the train’s pretty iffy, so it could take a while, and I know you’re in a hurry.
Next I wrote a note to Mom. Seeing Kristin and Sandra together at lunch had got me thinking about her, and I realized we’d never talked about the wedding since Merilee’s one conference call with the whole family.
Hi Mom. Just wanted to let you know I’m on the train and looking forward to seeing you Friday. I hope you’re okay with M&M moving up the wedding date. I know they’re young, but they’re so obviously made for each other.
Matt was the only boyfriend our parents had ever approved of, perhaps because he’d been around for so long he’d almost become part of the family already.
I’m sure you’re going nuts preparing your SCC case, so don’t worry about the wedding. The 3-pack, with our many and varied talents
My superlawyer mom was preparing an appeal to the Supreme Court of Canada. And that was as big as it got for a Canadian lawyer. Normally she’d have wanted to manage the wedding plans herself, but she didn’t have time, which was why Theresa, Jenna, and I had said we’d handle it.
As for Merilee, she’d had surgery for endometriosis this spring and was madly trying to make up the university semester, so she didn’t have much spare time, either.
Poor kid. All her life she’d looked forward to her wedding, and now the planning was a scrambled rush and her energy was focused as much on her schoolwork as on looking forward to the big day.
Oh, yeah, we were going to give her a fabulous wedding. The wedding of her dreams.
And I would swallow my envy and believe—know—that one day I’d be walking down the aisle myself, toward the man of my own dreams.
In fact, now that Nav—or Dhiraj—had helped me understand some of the mistakes I’d made with relationships, maybe I’d have a better chance of finding that guy.
The train whistle sounded, and I realized we were almost to the station. Quickly I finished the e-mail to Mom, then I started hunting for a wireless Internet connection. When I found one, my Inbox began to fill.
My assistant at Le Cachet had reported in, and he seemed to have things under control.
There was an e-mail from Merilee to me and Jenna, no cc to Theresa.
Jenna, are you out there somewhere?
Tune in, girl, because there’s MAJOR NEWS. Our Theresa came home with a MAN!!! And, OMG, what a man! Damien Black, some superpopular Aussie thriller writer, not to mention ranked one of Oz’s 10 sexiest bachelors, not to mention the Aussie tabloids had them on the front page as ENGAGED!! Which they aren’t. But all the same, can you believe Theresa’s actually dating a guy like that??? Seriously, he is incredibly HOT. If I wasn’t so totally in love with Matt, I’d give him a 2nd look myself. Met him briefly at the airport last night, and he’s coming for dinner tonight (and I bet he stays in Theresa’s room tonight
Mind you, it’s kind of annoying too. Like, I’m the one GETTING MARRIED here. Aren’t I supposed to be the center of attention for once in my life???
Speaking of which, Kat, don’t forget the e-vite, pretty please? Really looking forward to seeing it. Not to mention this guy Nav you’re bringing home. He sounds nice too.
Oh, great. I had the “nice” guy and Theresa had the “incredibly HOT” one.
I paused to reflect. Could I still take Nav as my wedding date?
Damn, I couldn’t imagine it. How could I face him in front of my family after our train games? Moreover, for my peace of mind, I’d need a little time and distance before going back to Montreal and seeing my friend Nav. It looked as if train sex had cost me a wedding date.
Well, it was excellent train sex. And there was more to look forward to.
I returned to Merilee’s e-mail.
Mind you, if you picked him, Kat, there’s got to be a fatal flaw. Right???
Like that he had multiple personalities, and I’d screwed two of them? I buried my face in my hands and had to chuckle. Now there was a new and original, and very sexy, fatal flaw.
It wouldn’t be wise to share that one with my family. No matter how much fun it would be to spill some details about the amazing sex I’d been having, and watch my sisters turn pea green with envy.
Merilee continued:
So, Jenna, what’s the scoop? You are gonna be here for my wedding, right??? What would my big day be, without you to tell me marriage is a…how does it go again? Anachronistic, paternalistic institution? I know I’ve left out a couple adjectives but I’m sure you’ll remind me
Hugs, big sisses. See ya soon.
And then, surprise, there was an e-mail from Jenna.
She addressed it to all the sisters, subject line:
For God’s Sake!!
I’m here, I’m here, for god’s sake, you girls are the biggest nags in the world! Just because god invented e-mail and cell phones, doesn’t mean a person has to stay glued to them 24/7. Y’all need to get a life!
Yes, of course I’m coming to Vancouver. M, there’s absolutely no way in the world I’d miss your wedding. (“A stifling, paternalistic anachronism that subjugates women and discriminates against homosexuals.” Since you asked
So, anyhow, I sold my surfboard (boohoo!) and I’ve got a couple good waitress gigs where the tips should be fabulous. I’ll have gas money in a day or two and head home. (Coast road, so it’ll take me a little longer, but the B’s not exactly up to the I-5.)
Jenna had a cute, but ancient and pretty battered MGB convertible. Yellow, like her hair. Thank heavens she had the sense not to take it on the highway. And hurray that she’d worked out her finances. Theresa and my folks had offered to pay for her flight, but she’d refused. Jenna might be scattered, and as unmaterialistic as Nav, but—like him—she had her pride.
If she left in a couple of days, on Thursday, she should be home by the end of the weekend.
Wow, all us sisters in the same house. That hadn’t happened since the Christmas before last. We’d either tear each other’s hair out or drink way too much wine and paint each other’s toenails. Most likely both.
I read on.
Theresa Fallon, what’s this I hear about the sexy writer? (Yeah, M spilled the beans
You too, huh, Kitty-Kat. Guess you’re having some fun with your new guy. But 2 weeks is a l-o-n-g time. Here’s betting you find the fatal flaw, or manage to jinx things, before M&M’s wedding
Ack. I scowled at the screen. If I told them Nav wasn’t coming, Jenna’d say I told you so. Once again I’d be the subject of teasing. Of pity. No, I couldn’t stand that, not on top of watching my sisters being all romantic with their guys, and yearning to have the same thing myself.
&
nbsp; So, I wouldn’t say Nav and I had broken up. Once I reached Vancouver, I’d pretend I got a call from him about his exhibit, saying he needed to stay in Montreal to prepare.
A life of deception could certainly get complicated.
As for me, I’m starting out the drive alone, but you never know who I’ll meet along the road. You know me, I live to shock. LOL.
And to worry our parents to death. Didn’t she realize her behavior affected other people?
So cool you got VanDusen for the wedding. Brilliant idea SOMEONE had, eh? Glad Mom came through for us.
Yes, VanDusen Gardens, Jenna’s suggestion, was the perfect place. Every Sunday afternoon when we were kids, Gran used to take us girls out for adventures all around the city, from Science World to movies to the beach. Merilee’s favorite had always been VanDusen Gardens, a lovely park with natural landscaping and a huge variety of trees and flowers. Of course the place had been booked for a June Saturday, but our well-connected mom had pulled some strings and found us a scenic corner we could use.
Hope Gran will be able to make it. Well, hell, girls, we’ll make sure she does. It just would be nice if she knew what was going on…Hey, when I get old, remind me not to lose my mind? (Yeah, yeah, no need to say it. Like I haven’t already???)
Poor Gran had Alzheimer’s and was in a care facility. Sometimes she recognized family and sometimes not.
“Sugar cookies,” I murmured. Gran and her house had smelled of sugar. She did all sorts of baking, but her simple sugar cookies had always been my favorite. “Poor Gran.”
The train jerked slightly and I glanced out the window. We were leaving the station and soon I’d lose my Internet connection. Quickly I opened the wedding e-vite and added the info about VanDusen. Then I started an e-mail to all my sisters.
Just checked messages. Great to hear you’ve got things organized, Jenna. Drive safe and watch out for hitchhikers