Best of Best Women's Erotica by Marcy Sheiner

Author:Marcy Sheiner
Format: mobi, epub

RIDING THE RAILS

Sacchi Green

“HEY, JO! JOSIE BENOIT!” A VOICE FROM MY past, fitting all too well with the setting: the Springfield train station, visible through foggy windows and blowing snow. I’d gone to college not far from here, and so had that voice’s owner.

“If it isn’t Miss Theresa,” I grunted, and kept on tugging at the sheepskin jacket caught behind a suitcase on the overhead rack.

“I never forget an ass,” Terry said pointedly, casing mine as I reached upward.

“Sure as hell wouldn’t have known yours.” My jacket finally yielded. I tossed it over the voluptuous décolletage of my seated companion. A few minutes earlier Yasmin had been whining about being cold. Now, of course, for a new audience, she shrugged off the covering with an enthusiasm that threatened to shrug off her low-cut silk blouse as well. Not that it had been doing much to veil her pouting nipples.

Terry, brushing snow off her shoulders and shaking it from her hair, rightly accepted my remark as a compliment. Fourteen years ago she’d been on the lumpy side; now she was buff, and all style. Sandy hair lightened, cropped, waxed just right; multiple piercings on the left ear and eyebrow, giving her face a rakish slant; studded black leather cut to make the best of the work she’d done on her body. I’d have felt mundane, with my straight black hair twisted up into a utilitarian knot and my brown uniform, not ironed all that well since Katzi had taken off—if I ever gave a damn about appearances. Which might have had something to do with why Katzi took off. Which had a whole lot to do with why I hadn’t gotten laid in two months and wasn’t finding it easy to resist Yasmin’s efforts.

“You just get on?” Terry asked. “Didn’t see you in the station. No way I could have overlooked your little friend.” Her eyes raked Yasmin, who practically squirmed with delight.

“Been on since White River Junction,” I said shortly. It was more than clear that Terry expected an introduction. “Yasmin, Terry O’Brian. We were in college together. Terry, Princess Yasmin, fourth wife of the Sultan of Isbani.” It was some satisfaction to see Terry’s jaw drop for an instant before her suave butch facade resurfaced.

“Ooh, Terry!” Yasmin warbled, jiggling provocatively. “I didn’t know Sergeant Jo had such nice friends!”

“The princess somehow…missed…leaving New Hampshire with her husband’s entourage,” I said. “They’d been visiting her stepson at Dartmouth. I’m escorting her to D.C. to meet them.” As far as I could tell, it had been a combination of Yasmin’s laziness and the head wife’s hatred that had culminated in her missing the limo caravan, and her absence going unnoticed until too late. I was developing a good deal of sympathy for the head wife.

“The weather’s too risky for flying or driving,” I added, “but the train should make it through. Not supposed to be much snow south of Connecticut.”

“Well, now,” Terry said, sliding into the seat facing Yasmin. “I’ll be happy to share security duty as far as New York.

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