I need to find her. No, I have to find her. Somehow she has totally taken over my waking—and sleeping—thoughts.
“Well, I think we have enough resources to figure this out,” I say, trying to rein in my frustration. For fuck’s sake, I own one of the biggest real estate conglomerates in the city. Someone should be able to track her down. Then it hits me. Her job.
“What did she list as her place of employment?”
After a few minutes, she has the info together and I’m headed out of my office building and up Lexington. Yeah, I’m acting like a total stalker. I’m taking this meeting on the train thing way further than before. But I can’t explain it. I need to know why she ran out on me. Know what was going through her head.
More than that, I actually want to know her. That’s a new one. I don’t do this. I don’t date women, get close to women. But that’s exactly where my mind has been. That I want to find out more about Adrienne Rhodes.
She’s a total contradiction. Prim and proper exterior, sultry sex underneath. I’d like to think that it’s just curiosity. I’ve had a sample, and now I want the full meal.
But I’m lying to myself. How else can I explain the fact that for two months I’ve watched this woman on the train, been curious about her?
There’s obviously something about her that some part of me has responded to. And I need to figure it out.
I glance at my watch as I approach the Dover Street Market. It’s nearing the time that I’d normally head for the train, so maybe she’s leaving work. I catch a glimpse of long blonde waves and feel a rush of adrenaline and desire.
It’s her. She’s across the street, and I walk through the crowds as fast as I can, trying to catch up to her. She turns the corner and heads for the subway station just as the light changes and cars start flying down Lexington in the crazy way that only New York drivers do. Shit, I’m going to lose her.
Finally, I make my way across, practically running. I should feel ridiculous—this is so not me. But I need to talk to her. Ask her to dinner like I should have two fucking months ago.
I hit the stairs leading down to the platform, and see bright blonde just ahead boarding the train. I don’t think I’ll make it before the doors slide shut. But that’s not acceptable. I dodge and push through people, ignoring the dirty looks and dirtier comments tossed my way, and slip into the car just in time.
“Adrienne!”
She’s across the car, standing and holding onto a pole, her eyes wide as she stares at me in shock.
I push through the crowded train to get to her.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
I smile, just glad that I finally found her, and take her hand. “I need to talk to you.”
The shiver that courses through her at my touch radiates back through my own body. It was like this in my apartment too. My body simply aware of hers, every touch electric. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced, and we didn’t even have sex.
Adrienne looks up at me, those blue eyes trying to read me.
“Why did you leave? Why did you run out?”
She presses her lips together and looks away. “I can’t explain it.”
Placing my palm on her cheek, I force her to look back at me. “Try.”
After a drawn out pause, she finally speaks. “It just hit me. I don’t even know you, but I was ready to drag you to the floor and let you do anything you wanted to me.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I didn’t expect her to be so straightforward with it. Her bold words take me by surprise, as well as send a bolt of lust straight to my cock. That’s exactly what I wanted too.
The train stops and people get on and off. When we begin moving again, I lean in close and ask, “Then why didn’t you?”
She shakes her head. “I had to go. I knew if I let it go any further then I’d do something stupid. Like move in with you.”
I laugh. “You realize that was exactly why you came over in the first place.”
She smiles. “Yeah. But meeting my train guy for a quickie is a far cry from living with him.”
“Your train guy?”
Adrienne’s face turns red, and I can’t help brushing my lips over hers. She’s too cute. Her breath hitches. Cute, and totally fucking sexy.