I told her that Ari and I had everything we needed. Instead of gifts, we were asking friends, family members, and well-wishers to make a donation to Meds Without Borders. Lauren rolled her eyes. I was glad to hear she was in therapy for her addiction to bad boys. Of course, she already had a mad crush on her therapist, who was one of New York’s hottest bachelors. I never told her that Taylor had hit on me. Sometimes, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. Other times, it can change your life.
Ari’s mother and sister Gwen also came by. I thanked Gwen for saving my life. She was very humble. I discovered that beneath her cold façade, she was a warm, loving person with a wicked sense of humor. I was looking forward to having her as my sister-in-law.
Fernando also stopped by and shared all the office gossip. Catherine’s “fatal cab accident”--which I miraculously survived--was the talk of the office. It was rumored to be grisly. Some had even heard that Catherine was decapitated. I had no idea how Ari managed to spin the story. Not even Fernando knew the truth. The two of us worked on Combat Wombats. Ben loved the concept and designs and was a great source of inspiration.
Ben and I spent a lot of time together, reading stories and playing games. The cutie pie finally beat me at Pac-Man. One morning, when we were having breakfast together, he asked me, “Sarah, after you and Daddy get married, can I call you Mommy?” A bemused smile crossed Ari’s face. I started to cry. Tears of joy.
On the night before I was going back to work, Ari and I were watching West Side Story on Netflix, snuggled naked together in his bed under a fluffy comforter. We were at the very end. The part where Maria is holding Tony in her arms as he dies. I was bawling for the umpteenth time.
Ari turned to me and wiped away my tears. “Your tears make you more beautiful, my princess.”
His tender words only made my cry harder. I was a blubbering mess.
He flutter kissed my neck, licking the tears off my flesh before they rolled onto my now exposed healing wound. “There’s only one cure for tears,” he whispered in my ear.
He rolled over to his side. “Face me,” he ordered. I rolled onto my side, happy it was not the one with the stab wound.
Beneath the comforter, I felt his familiar fingers between my legs. They stroked my cleft, instantly bringing a rush of moisture to the tender folds. Yes, I was wet with want. It had been too long.
“You’re so moist and hot,” he moaned as he moved to my clit. He circled it slowly, then picked up speed, pressing harder. My core heated up with his body until it was on fire.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked with that deep, sexy growl I had so missed.
I’m not sure if he meant if I was well enough or wet enough for him. It didn’t matter. I wrapped my fingers around his velvety hot thickness and inserted it into my hungering hole. I moaned as he slid his splendid cock up my wet tunnel, inch by inch until it hit my hot spot. His mouth crushed into mine before I could shriek with pleasure.
As his tongue made love inside my mouth, his glorious cock made love to me inside my tunnel. I squeezed my muscle around his hot thick organ as he drove it harder and faster through the flooded passageway. We were heading toward the same place. Our final destination.
As I exploded in his bed for the very first time around his hot spurting locomotive, I knew our journey together had just begun.
Two months later, my wedding day came. It took place at Ari’s—or should I say, our—Southampton estate. We both opted for a small, intimate affair with just our close friends and family. Gwen and Lauren were my maids of honor. Ben was the ring bearer and Andre’s darling six-year-old niece was the flower girl. Guess who was best man—Fernando! We were getting married at dusk on the beach—on the very spot where Ari and I had made love.
I was getting ready in the guesthouse. Miguel and June, from Bergdorf’s, did my hair and makeup while Luisa, Olga, and my mother prepped my dress. I was so happy my mother was with me on my special day. She was in complete remission thanks to Ari, whose company happened to be the manufacturer of her experimental drug treatment. The minute he heard her insurance was no longer going to cover it, my beautiful and benevolent husband-to-be generously paid for it himself. For this alone, I was forever beholden to him. It made me love him more, if more was possible.
“Oh, honey, your dress is so beautiful,” exclaimed my teary-eyed mother as she helped me step into it. Lauren had helped me pick out the gown at Bergdorf’s Bridal Salon. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Even I could not believe how gorgeous I looked. I was floating in a cloud of ivory tulle and lace. Underneath, I was wearing nothing except a blue garter borrowed from Lauren that Ari vowed to bite off later. A tingle rippled through me as I thought about what else he had in store for me… later.
There was one final touch. Luisa placed it on my head. My tiara. “Ah, Señorita Sarah, you are a true princessa,” beamed Ari’s beloved housekeeper, who today was an honored guest just like the rest of Ari’s trusted help.
Olga handed me my bouquet—exquisite lilies and roses that Ari had handpicked from our garden. I was ready. Ready to be united with my man. The beautiful man whom I had once dreamt about and thought I could never have. With my mom, Luisa, and Olga holding up the long train of my gown, I headed outside. The bride wore combat boots.
The weather of this late summer evening couldn’t have been more perfect. It was warm with a balmy sea breeze. As the sun set into the ocean, a harpist played “Tonight.” The sound of the waves crashing against the shore mingled with the cries of seagulls. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
Ari strongly wanted a traditional Jewish wedding and for the spirit of his father to be with us. He was waiting for me under a chuppah, a canopy that was made from the tallis—a fringed silk shawl—that once belonged to his father. That is where we were going say our forever vows, shroud in his father’s love.
My heart hammered. How handsome my Trainman looked in his black tuxedo jacket which he wore over jeans. His blue bow tie matched the color of the ocean and his eyes. The expression on his face told me he approved of how I looked. A glint of mischief twinkled in his eyes. I knew what he was thinking.
Since I had no father to give me away, Andre did the honors. His adorable niece trailed behind us, throwing petals of wildflowers that also came from our garden. The walk up to the chuppah felt like something between eternity and the blink of an eye. Ari’s face lit up as he took me from Andre. It said, I love you, Saarah. That breathy, sexy way he always said my name echoed in my head.
As the sun disappeared into the ocean, we exchanged our vows and simple gold wedding bands with the word “Forever” inscribed in each. We were surrounded by the people we loved. Mrs. Blumberg was positively bawling and, in the corner of my eye, I could see my mother shedding sweet tears. Immediately after the Rabbi pronounced us husband and wife, Ari crushed a wine glass with his loafer-clad foot and then crushed his lips against mine. As the small crowd screamed out mazel tov with applause, I surrendered myself completely and unabashedly to my husband. Oh, how I loved this man!
In a few hours, after we partied in the backyard, we would be on his private plane en route to the south of France for our honeymoon. The first thing I was going to do when we got to our hotel room was to write something in my little journal of sayings. Inhale the flowers and dream.
As I tossed my bouquet to Lauren, I knew that dreams really could come true.
EPILOGUE
Nine Months Later
Our bedroom suite is my favorite room in our twenty-room Park Avenue penthouse. It is an oasis where Ari and I can be alone, make beautiful love, and share our lives. There’s a fireplace, and scented candles are everywhere, bathing the creamy walls in a soft, sensual glow at night. Above our luxurious bed is a portrait of Josephine Baker. It’s not a reproduction. Ari bought it for me at an auction and surprised me with it when I officially moved into his apartment. It makes me happy.
Ari is on the bed, on his knees, his tongue inside my mouth, exploring
and probing. I’m on my knees too, my arms folded around his honed biceps. My full breasts and belly brush against his taut torso, tickled by the line of the silky golden hair that extends from his pecs to his sex. My neck arches backward as his tongue slathers down it, creating a rush of pleasure. His soft mouth stops to suck my stretched nipples while my heavy engorged breasts rest in his palms. His tongue rolls around the elongated buds and then makes its way to my swollen belly. He gently circles his hands around the circumference and then plants sweet flutter kisses all over it. Over the last nine months, the bigger my belly, the more he loves it!
We’re perfectly lined up. Taking his time, he inserts his hot thick member into me. Inch by inch. It quickly fills me. He bobs it slowly, methodically building erotic tension. In my state, hard, reckless fucking has been replaced with slow, passionate lovemaking. We have both discovered there is beauty in slow love. At least, for now.
As he continues to slide his hard rod up and down my tunnel with deep, slow, deliberate strokes, his deft fingers gently massage my clit. I moan as it grows hard beneath his touch.
“You’re so hot and wet,” he murmurs.
I wrap my arms around him and meet his thrusts with my hips. His thrusts deepen, intensifying the pleasure zapping me inside.
“Oh baby, you feel so good.” Against my wall, his member explodes, hot cum pouring through my canal. He cries out my name. “Saarah!” My own orgasm meets his, and I cry like a siren in the night. Ahh! Such sweet surrender.
He buries his head on my shoulder, and I do the same. We bask in each other’s juices and do not move for several minutes. The candles flicker.
“You okay?” He’s so concerned about my well-being.
“Darling, I’ve never have been better.” The truth.
He pulls out his erection. Slowly.
“Come, baby, let’s get ready for your big night.” He plants a warm kiss on my lips. From the corner of my eye, I glimpse my mother’s portrait of me as a child that’s hung over a commode. The little girl’s big brown eyes gaze at me, marveling at the woman she has grown up to be.
We are going to The Waldorf Astoria—this time for the annual Toy of the Year Awards. My toyline, Brainy Trainz, has been nominated for the top award, Best Toy of the Year. Upon Ari’s urging, I showed Ike the toy train I had given Ben for his birthday. With illustrated boards, I demonstrated to him how it could be expanded to include a collection of connective “smart” trains and a playset featuring railroad tracks, tunnels, and commuters. Among the prototype commuters were a handsome golden-haired businessman and his companion, a tall plain girl with a ponytail.
Ike went nuts for it. It was exactly the boys’ product line he was looking for—innovative, collectible, and educational. He put it on the fast track—no pun intended. Sure enough, it was an overnight phenomenon. A breakthrough toy. I’m now Vice President of Boys’ Toys, about to launch my other creation—Combat Wombats.
The competition is steep. I’m up against well-known entities like Legos and Marvel action heroes. It doesn’t matter to me if I win or not. I’ve already won everything I could ever want in my life.
Ari and I take a quick shower together, lathering each other in fragrant soap. He spends considerable time soaping up my big breasts and belly, arousing me yet again. Our desire to make love again is overwhelming, but there’s no time. Well, except for a quick blow job. I can’t resist my darling husband’s splendid cock—my favorite toy. After toweling each other dry, we dress for the black-tie event ahead.
How beautiful my Trainman looks in his perfectly tailored black tux. Beyond beautiful. His baby blue bow tie and matching cummerbund are the same shade as his piercing blue eyes and complement his perfectly bronzed skin.
I am wearing a one-shoulder white crepe Armani gown that hangs loosely over my belly. I take a glimpse of myself in the mirrored armoire. My hair is swept up, and diamond teardrop earrings—a wedding gift from Ari—hang from my ears. The scar on my chest peaks out from the gown, a constant reminder of my near-death experience. Had Ari not gotten to my apartment in time, I would have bled to death. Over time, we have learned that love can heal scars, both emotional and physical.
Ari hands me my shoes. A pair of metallic silver ballet flats. He refused to let me wear stilettos. God forbid if I trip rushing up to the podium and something happens to me. I slip them on. I reluctantly gave in to him, but told him his worrying was ridiculous because I wasn’t going to win. There’s another thing I’m not wearing—panties.
From behind, Ari wraps his arms around me, savoring the life inside me that kicks after each time we make love. He nuzzles the back of my neck. “Saarah…”
No matter how often he breathes my name, my body tingles all over.
“You look like a goddess.”
I sneak a peek of this beautiful man holding me in the mirror. And sometimes I still can’t believe this god is mine.
“And The Toy of the Year Award goes to…”
There is tension in the Waldorf ballroom, I grip Ari’s hand; he squeezes it as I hold my breath.
“Sarah…”
Holy shit.
“Greene-Golden of Ike’s Tikes for Brainy Trainz.”
I don’t know what comes first—Ari’s hug or the screaming applause in the audience.
But I know what comes second. Ari’s kiss. His lips consume mine. A fireworks-like display of sparks shoots inside me. Everywhere.
In shock, I rise slowly, but a surge of adrenaline makes me run up to the stage. Weaving in and out of the tables, I shake hands and accept hugs from well-wishers along the way. An exuberant Fernando and his partner… a dressed-to-the-nines Lauren and her new boyfriend, the therapist, and Ari’s stunning sister Gwen and her husband, Greg. “Congratulations! You look beautiful,” says Gwen after a warm hug. The big smile on my face cannot begin to tell her how beautiful I feel.
I take the steps to the stage two at a time, and dart behind the podium. The Chairman of the North American Toy Association hands me my award. My shaking hands clutch my TOTY award as my eyes survey the audience. I can’t believe it. A standing ovation. For me. My eyes find Ari’s in the crowd. He, too, is standing. He’s holding Ben in his arms. Our smiles connect, and my sweet little boy shoots me a thumbs-up. Oh, how I love this child!
I take a deep breath, loud enough for the audience to hear it. Laughter. The audience takes their seats, and the applause finally dies down.
Speech time. Shit! I didn’t prepare one. I never thought I would win. OK, I’m going to wing it and remember one of my favorite sayings: “Less is best.” Although when it comes to Ari, more is better. I can never have enough of him.
“First, I want to thank Ike Abrams for taking a chance on me…”
My eyes scour the crowd and find my boss beaming.
“I also want to thank my best friend and colleague, Fernando Valásquez, with whom I truly share this award…”
I applaud Fernando as his handsome partner smacks a kiss on his lips.
“…My mother who’s always believed in me.”
I blow her a kiss. Seated next to Ari, she looks so beautiful. She’s still in remission, and her hair has grown back. Though we take each day at a time, Ari and I are both convinced that she’ll live to see our children get married. Amid more applause, she blows the kiss back with both hands. Oh, how I love my mother! Tears prick my eyes as they move to smiley-face Ben.
“…My darling son who’s been my sounding board and inspiration…”
“… And of course, my beloved husband Ari, for making me the woman I am. I love you, my hero.”
I pause as our eyes connect. The tears start rolling. I’m swarmed with emotion.
He mouths back the words “I love you” and blows me an air kiss. I can only imagine what’s going on beneath the table. A freight full of memories bombards me. As I victoriously hold up my award, an encounter in one particular car on a certain Amtrak train fills my head. I jolt.
A sudden rush of warm liqui
d pours down between my thighs. From somewhere deep inside me. My heart skips a beat. My water’s broken! I smile the biggest smile I’ve ever smiled and stay focused only on the man I love.
“…And last but not least, I dedicate this award to a little Traingirl who’s on her way.”
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, I want to thank my friend, Artemis Hunt, the bestselling author of the new, captivating erotic romance series, Damaged Beauties, for inspiring and encouraging me to write this book. Her creative comments along the way were invaluable—and so were her cyber-whippings. She made me get it done!
Another writer friend, June Gray, the author of the bestselling, first-time erotica romance series, DISARM, also has a place in my heart. We’ve shared a journey. I also want to thank my beta-reader and dear friend, “Smiles.” She, too, gave me many great suggestions.
My fabulous cover designer and formatter, Glendon Haddix of Streetlight Graphics, and second set of eyes, Kathie Middlemiss of Kat’s Eye Editing, additionally deserve mention.
I’m especially beholden to my husband, who tolerated me each time I asked, “Hey, babe, is this possible?” And then proved anything is possible—well, almost. Thanks for being my research assistant! I’m also beholden to my twin daughters who put up with me for staying glued to my computer 24-7 and writing “an inappropriate book.” A shout-out also goes to my sister and mom for their unwavering support. LOL. My 85-year-old mother loved the sex scenes!
Lastly, I want to acknowledge the person who inspired this story. Thank you for that one unforgettable encounter. I wish I could go back in time.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nelle L’Amour is a former executive in the entertainment and toy industries. While she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago, she still enjoys playing with toys with her two children and her husband. She aspires to write juicy stories with characters that will make you both laugh and cry and stay in your heart forever.
Final Destination III Page 8