The hint of pine, musk, and pure man tickled her senses. One of her favorite sights was an obvious, well-toned body wrapped handsomely in a dark suit with a power tie. He had the look of a financial market tycoon, or perhaps a commercial real estate broker, or maybe a movie producer. Whatever he did for a living didn’t matter at that moment. Unabashed, she watched as he unbuttoned his jacket, shrugged it off his shoulders, and draped it over the seat on the other side of the aisle. Alexis took the opportunity to admire the way the shirt hugged his strong shoulders. She had the perfect eye level view of the exact place where the soft fabric of his suit pants molded perfectly around his backside. Yes, he was a fine specimen of man. She couldn’t help a sideways glance to the spot right below his belt when he turned to take his seat.

“Mmmm,” she hummed quietly.

The clacking of the train on the tracks drowned her appreciative groan. Or so she thought. Was that a chuckle she heard from him as he sat down? Alexis pulled the January issue of Cosmopolitan out of her purse and began to thumb through it until she found the article she’d dog-eared after retrieving it from the mailbox a few days before: Sex with a Stranger – How, When and Where.

She reclined her chair the inch or so it allowed and slipped off her pumps. Tristan glanced at the magazine she tilted his way and offered her a smile before loosening his tie and bending down to retrieve his newspaper from the pocket of the seat in front of him. She followed his gaze as it rested on her painted toenails. Satisfied with the apparent invisible hold she was developing, she wiggled her toes and broke his stare. He cleared his throat, unfolded the newspaper, and subtly shifted in his seat.