Trainwreck 2 (Trainwreck #2) by Nelle L'Amour

snatched the skirt from him.
    “Mr. Golden, I am old enough to dress myself.”
    He smirked as I stepped into the skirt, slid it up my long legs, and then zipped it. It hung on my hips. I had lost weight from my stressful week.
    He stepped back and gave me the once over. “Actually it’s not bad. Pink suits you. It just needs a little fixing.”
    Moving close, he pinched my nipples, then tugged and twirled them. They hardened and peaked beneath the soft cashmere. A tingling sensation erupted between my inner thighs. Shit! He was making me crazy with desire all over again. Where was this leading?
    Then he stopped and fixated his eyes on the two buttons that had popped under my sweater. “Much better,” he grinned.
    I glanced down. My nipples were very visible. I mean, very . I rolled my eyes and stiffly marched back to the couch to put on my trusty, scuffed up boots. Sitting down, I grabbed one, but struggled to get it on my foot with my thickly bandaged, sore hand.
    “Here, let me help you,” he said with amusement, already heading my way.
    He crouched down in front of me and expertly slipped them on my narrow feet, one by one.
    “Princess, you really need to get a new pair of boots,” he commented as he slid the left boot over my heel. “I saw this great pair of Pradas advertised in the New York Times .”
    I cut him off before he could go any further. “Don’t even think of buying them for me. I happen to love these boots. They’re special to me and have been through a lot.”
    My mother and I had found them together at a local flea market when I was in high school just after she learned she had cancer. They were a little pricey, but my mother insisted I have them. She said they’d be my lucky boots and the truth is they were. If I hadn’t been wearing them last Friday at 30th Street Station, I would have missed my train and would have never met my Trainman. Or been with him here today.
    As he laced up my boots, I admired his long deft fingers. God, those fingers could do so much! Then I watched him as he finished dressing himself. With the same deftness, he donned a crisp pinstriped dress shirt, his jacket, and a coordinating jacquard tie that had just enough blue in it to bring out the blue of his eyes. As sexy as he looked in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, there was something about him in a suit that just totally blew me away. He looked so powerful, so beautiful, and so sinfully virile. My heart hammered and my skin prickled.
    “Well, I guess I should get going now,” I stammered, not really wanting to leave him. Not now. Not ever.
    He narrowed his eyes at me. “Not yet, my princess.” Before I could protest, he strode over to me and, lifting me up from the couch and taking hold of my good hand. “Come, I’ll give you a tour of the company while you’re here.”
    “Wait!” I panicked.
    “You don’t need panties.” A wicked smile lit up his face.
    The beautiful mind reader. I loved him so much.
    ### ♥ ###
    Golden International spanned three vast floors, each a different department. His floor was the executive floor and included a state-of-the-art conference room with sweeping views of the city. The floor below was marketing and sales. As he escorted me through the halls, I was surprised by how much everyone loved to see him pop into their office. He knew every one of his employees by name and seemed to know what they were each up to. I was also impressed by how he knew important personal things about them—like birthdays, the birth of a child, an upcoming graduation, or even a death in the family.
    At the end of a long corridor, Ari ushered me into another large corner office. I recognized the stunning blond woman sitting behind the desk. It was Anne Connelly, his head of sales. The woman I’d seen him with in the Hamptons. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of the two of us.
    “Well, hello, Ari. Just taking a stroll?”
    “Anne, I’d like you to meet my um…friend, Sarah Greene.”
    She