Winter Sloane pens a delightfully sexy and swift short read with this contemporary romance. It's no secret that my favorite heroines are curvy women and Maddie is a fantastic heroine. She transforms from a tempting stranger on the subway to a woman who is confident and daring. Delving into her character was enlightening and enjoyable. Rob manages to be adorable yet commandingly sexy. I loved how we got to see so much from his point of view and how we were able to witness his anticipation as well as the show. This was a deliciously seductive read that not only tantalized but told a wonderful story. If you’re looking for a short and sexy story this one is a great choice. The Story: Every weekday Maddie finds herself looking forward to the morning rush hour. The press of bodies on the train is something she'd never enjoyed but now with every touch or press of her body to this handsome stranger makes her days so much better. Rob doesn't know her name but he definitely knows her body. Ever since the first accidental touch she'd set his body on fire and although he's more than enjoyed their fun on the train, he's ready to take everything to another level.
Romance on the Go ®
Rob: We see each other on the eight o’clock train from Mondays to Fridays. Rush hour means there’s no room to maneuver or breathe. I first touch her by accident, not expecting her to lean towards me. No other woman has ever driven me insane with lust. A taste isn’t enough. I want more—her name for a start and eventually her heart.
Maddie: No names. We don’t even utter a single word. All we need is the language of pants and gritted teeth. We’re two lonely souls on the daily grind, strangers who meet at the crossroads. I tell myself I’ll stop eventually, but I keep coming back. He wants more, says he’s ready to give his name. I think I know where this is heading, but I’m certain this is one train wreck waiting to happen.
Be Warned: light BDSM, spanking, public exhibition, rimming
“Morning,” I mumble.
“How are you doing?” she whispers back.
Greetings are standard protocol. Words hold no meaning here. We make do with our bodies. The doors come to a close and the automated voice announces the next station. She presses her back right up against my chest, and pushes her heart-shaped ass, barely covered by her dress, against the ridge of my erection.
Damn it, but I like how she’s all woman. She possesses the right kind of curves, able to take in the strength of my body without effort, and it drives me insane that all I can do is hold her.
The train makes an abrupt stop, the perfect excuse for her to trip on her four-inch heels and for me to band one protective arm around her luscious breasts.
I freeze for a couple of moments, realizing she took my suggestion yesterday to heart. She wears no bra today, and I can feel her tits hardening through the silk fabric. It’s not hard to imagine me grasping those perfect breasts, squeezing them, and watching them bounce while I sink my dick into her slick pussy.
All fantasy of course, because this is all we do. We grind against each other, strangers on the train who need a pick-me-up. She touched me first by accident. The second time was intentional. The third, we struck a mutual agreement. It’s not exactly a romantic arrangement, but we make do.
I muffle a groan, and she hisses an unladylike word through her teeth. “Fuck.”
She rubs her body against me, challenging the limits of my control. Each time the curve of her ass rubs against my zipper, I imagine us somewhere else. Away from this eight o’clock train, and from the safety and familiarity of the crowd.
When I’m at the office all I think of is her. What’s her story, why she never misses this train—the questions are endless, but in the end, I draw one singular conclusion. She’s lonely just like me, too busy or impatient to form a connection with another human being.