She smiles. “I already thought we were.”
“I want more.”
Her smile grows wider. “I think you already have more.”
“Do I now?”
“I think we should file the paperwork with HR and go public with our relationship officially.”
“So, we stop hiding?”
She grins. “Yeah.”
My fingers drift higher, tracing the inside of her thigh and squeezing—right at the edge of where soft turns to heat.
“I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you for a month now.”
Her breath hitches and she shoots me a sharp look, voice low. “Seth. What are you doing?”
“Turning you on.”
“We’re on a train,” she hisses, eyes darting around the mostly empty car. Boone and Rosie took the earlier, more packed one. This late-night ride from New York City to Brookhaven is practically a ghost town.
“Exactly. Perfect opportunity.”
“For what?” she whispers, narrowing her eyes like she doesn’t already know.
“Mile High Club.”
She snorts. “We’re not on a plane.”
I shrug, brushing my thumb in lazy circles over her skin. “Fine. Then what is it on a train?”
“Mile Long Club?” she offers, smirking. My eyes darken.
“I’ll show you something that’s a mile long.”
She laughs. “You’re big, but a mile is a stretch.”
“Mile Under Club?” I try.
She presses her lips together, fighting another laugh.
I lean in, voice low and gravelly. “Getting railroaded.”
She loses it—doubling over, full-body laughing, hand over her mouth as her shoulders shake. “Oh my God, stop.”
I grin, satisfied. “Come on,” I say, standing and holding out a hand. “You’ve never wanted to get a train run on you before?”
“Seth!” she gasps, trying not to laugh, even as she slaps at my chest. “You can’t just make up train puns.”
“Wanna bet?” I whisper. “Because I’ve got a wholefreight-loadof ‘em to show you and I’m trying to drop this load inside that pussy.”
“No.”
“Get loose inside that caboose?”
She groans but is smiling. “Though I love this playful version of you, I’m going to need you to stop.”
