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His groin level with my face, making my mouth start to quiver along with the renewed heat between my legs.
Suzanna glances over but rolls her eyes, bored, looking back out the window.
Michael looks from her to my mom and then down to me.
“I’ll see your dare,” he says firmly. “But on one condition,” he adds, curling his lip without meaning to.
The very thoughts in his mind overtaking his features.
I hear myself swallowing hard again, mute and stupid. Unable to even wet my lips enough to talk.
All the moisture in my body pooling in the now boiling valley between my legs as my eyes dart from his to his not-so-subtle pant bulge.
Mom tries to say something, reminding us all that the dare window has closed, but Michael ignores her. Speaking over her and lifting me up to face him.
Gripping me by both my elbows.
“You’ll be mine for the rest of the train trip. Riding first class, spending all your time with me,” he says in a deep, commanding tone.
My head is already nodding, and before anyone can stop him, he crashes his lips hard against mine, making me whimper as I clutch his body again.
Desperate to feel him against me. Needing to grab all of him that I can while I have the chance.
I hear Suzanna swear, and my mom lets out a dry croak of disbelief.
It’s a powerful kiss, but lips only.
A gentleman’s kiss.
Just when I think I’ll faint, or reach for parts of him I shouldn’t, or both. He pulls back.
His own breath is heavy as I give a shudder.
“There,” he says, eyeing Suzanna and then my mom.
“I’ll see you in my suite in two minutes,” he orders, pausing only to wipe a smudge of something invisible from next to my lips before bringing it to his own as he turns and leaves as quickly as he came.
The silence returns, but it’s shock we’re in now, not sullen moodiness.
“What the fuck just happened?” Suzanna asks, stuttering a few bursts of laughter before going quiet.
The man who knows what he wants has spoken, and it kinda looks like Suze’s little dare just blew up in her face.
Mom is thinking hard, I can tell. But eventually, she smiles, patting my knee when I sit back down.
“I did want us to spend some time together, Natasha. But…” she says, her own smile getting the better of her as I feel my own coming to life.
“You’re not actually going?” Suzanna whines, suddenly sulking.
“I’ll walk you up,” Mom says, and I know she just wants to have a word with Michael before leaving me alone with him.
Suzanne moves to join us but mom motions for her to stay put. “I’ll be back in a minute sweetie,” she says kindly.
Suze thrusts her earbuds back in her ears, not even looking at me as she twists her body to scowl out the window.
I dare ya to stop acting like such a little witch, Suze.
A part of me wants to rub it in, to remind her that her dare wasn’t such a great idea if she was trying to make me feel bad.
But I guess there’s a part of Suze that’s hurt too.
We’re supposed to be riding together, the three of us until mom gets off. Then it’s supposed to just be Suze and me for the rest of the way home.
Now?
Having a dare with friends is one thing, but actually being alone with a real life man?
Especially a man of Michael’s caliber.
No wonder mom wants to have a little chat before she goes, and it starts with me on the way back to him.
He would’ve barely had time to get back to his suite by the time we’re heading back, but mom lets me know a few things about being alone with strange men.
If you’d call Michael strange.
I guess he is.
Strangely beautiful, handsome. Huge.
Did I mention he was handsome?
“I know he’s probably a nice guy and all… Just… Well…just be careful,” Mom says, stopping me and lowering her breath.
As if she knows something I don’t.
“What do you mean, Mom?” I ask naively.
She gives me a little smile and tousles my hair.
Like she used to when I was a kid.
“Oh, Natasha. You’ve done a lot in your twenty-one years, but learning about men hasn’t been one of ‘em,” she muses. But I’m not offended.
It sounds more like a monologue about herself than an observation about me.
She thinks about saying something else, I can tell, her brow furrows with emotion and concentration, but she lets it pass.
“I’m just worried I won’t get to see you before I have to go. And your dad...” she trails off, but I’m already looking past her, eager to get to where I’ve been ordered to go.
To Michael.
Why the heck would I want to stop and talk about anything else?
“Just don’t get your hopes up,” my mom finally says knowingly.
