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The door slides open a moment later, and I see Dutch standing there. Everything inside of me settles, but he narrows his eyes, not looking happy to see me.
“You’re dressed.”
I pulled on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top before putting on the sneakers. He steps inside and shuts the door behind him.
“Where did you go?” I ask.
“Were you about to run?” He ignores my question, asking one of his own.
“The train is moving. How the heck could I run?” The space is so small that all he has to do is turn me so he’s up against me and I’m pressed against the wall.
My breathing is heavy as desire swirls inside of me. He’s such a dominating force that I can’t help my reaction to him. His big hands wrap around my neck, gripping me as he uses his thumbs to push against my jaw. I lean my head back to stare up at him, having no other option but to meet his gaze.
“Did you think you could get away from me?”
“No,” I say honestly, and he searches my face.
“I told you that you belong to me now,” he reminds me.
“Until you deliver me.” His hands tighten a fraction.
He's not hurting me, but he does have full control, and I can’t do anything unless he allows it. That shouldn't be turning me on, but there is no denying my panties are soaked.
“Something was going on. It was all over your face when I opened the door.”
“I was scared,” I admit.
“I scare you?” He doesn't look too thrilled about that, which is almost laughable. He’s got his hands around my throat, but I’m not afraid of him.
“No,” I answer, and his lip pulls up on one side. Was that a smile?
“Were you scared I was gone, little bit? That I left you behind?” I don’t understand the rush of emotions that suddenly consume me. My eyes fill with tears, and my nose burns as I admit the truth.
“Yes.”
“Fuck me.” His mouth comes down onto mine in a searing hot kiss.
His hands release me, and I wrap mine around him, pressing my body into his. He growls into my mouth as his hard cock presses into my stomach. It jerks against me, and I moan around his tongue.
He suddenly breaks away from the kiss and drops his forehead to mine. We’re both breathing heavily as he swallows hard.
“We can’t do this.” He shakes his head. “The train will be stopping soon.”
“Okay,” I answer, feeling relieved that he’s not pushing me away.
I don’t let myself wonder about those feelings because it’s all too much for me to handle right now. He takes a step back, and I immediately miss his warmth. I’m a starved kitten wanting all of his affection and attention.
“I got you something to eat.” He bends down and grabs a bag off the floor. He must have dropped it when he walked in. He reaches inside and pulls out a sandwich and an orange juice.
“Thanks.” I sit down and eat my breakfast as Dutch runs his hand through his short hair. Something seems off.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, and he lets out a bark of laughter, surprising both of us.
“To be honest, I have no fucking clue what I am right now.” I totally understand that. “Did you get enough to eat?”
“Yes.”
A voice comes over the speaker, letting us know we’re coming to our final stop. Dutch gets the rest of our stuff together so we’re able to take off.
“Will I be meeting people today?” I ask tentatively. Could today be the end of the line for Dutch and me? He said I was his for the time being. What happens when that time is up?
“No. This is only the first part of our trip.” I don’t miss that he doesn't fill me in on what is coming next. “Do you want to meet them now?”
“It would be nice to have this settled.” I shrug.
I think about the woman in the picture holding the little girl he said was me. I’m not completely sure, but what I do know is that I look a lot like her. It’s almost laughable how I’d always wondered why I never had any similarities to my own mom. Not that any of this crap is true, but I suppose we’ll know soon enough.
“Then what? You go back home to your fake parents?” he challenges.
“Don’t be a dick.” I glare at him.
“I recall you enjoying my dick.”
I gasp. “You’re a real jerk, you know that?”
He lets out a long sigh, running his hand down his face. “Yeah, I know that, little bit.”
I turn my face away from him, not wanting him to know how his words sting. It isn’t only what he said, but it’s how he can flip from sweet to something else altogether. My mom does that a lot. I should be used to it, but it hurts more when it comes from him.
