Exes Share a Sleeper Car

The overnight train smelled of metal and recycled air when Mia shoved her bag into the cramped sleeper and froze. Jax was already there, six-two of hard muscle and bad decisions, sprawled on the lower bunk like he owned the fucking rails. Two years since the screaming match that ended them, and here he was, dark eyes dragging over her like no time had passed.

“You’re kidding,” she said, voice flat.

“Flight canceled. Same story.” His mouth crooked. “Looks like we’re stuck, Mia. Curtain’s thin as hell. Anyone walks by, they get the show.”

She yanked the privacy curtain halfway across the narrow doorway anyway. It left a gap wide enough to see straight into the corridor. Heat crawled up her neck. The old bitterness sat right next to the spark that had always been stupid and mean and perfect. She dropped her bag and started unbuttoning her blouse without looking away from him.

Jax’s stare went molten. “Still hate me?”

“Still think about fucking you when I’m alone,” she shot back, peeling the blouse off and kicking free of her jeans. The tiny white tank and plain black panties left almost nothing to the imagination. The train rocked hard around a curve; she braced a hand on the upper bunk and felt his eyes lock on the flex of her thighs.

“I get hard every time I remember the way you used to come on my tongue,” he said, open and raw, no shame. He shifted on the bunk so the thick ridge in his jeans was impossible to miss. “Right now I’m thinking about it.”

Mia climbed onto the narrow lower bunk opposite him, back against the wall, knees bent. She let her legs fall open, slow, deliberate, until the thin cotton of her panties stretched over her cunt. A couple of passengers murmured past in the corridor, shoes scuffing inches from the half-open curtain. The thrill punched straight through her.

“Then watch,” she said, sliding two fingers down and rubbing slow circles over her clit through the fabric. She was already wet. “Dare you.”

Jax’s breath left him in a rough sound. He didn’t look away. “Filthy girl. You’re dripping and anyone could glance in.”

“Good.” She pushed the crotch of her panties aside and dragged a finger through her folds, lifting it to show him the shine. “Still want this after everything?”

“I want to fuck you right here where they can hear it,” he growled. “Want them to know I’m balls-deep in my ex while the train keeps moving.”

The banter turned filthier with every sway of the car. She fucked herself with two fingers while he watched, hips rolling, soft wet sounds mixing with the clack of the rails. A man in a suit passed close enough that Mia saw the flash of his profile; she didn’t stop. Jax’s hand was on his cock through his jeans, squeezing.

“Get over here,” he ordered, voice low and scraped.