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Natasha shoots her friend more than one sour look over dinner, and always looks to me in apology, but I don’t mind. I don’t judge Natasha, least of all by the company she keeps.
It’s an issue I know we’ll have to face, like dealing with her mom at some point down the track.
For now, though, Renee is glancing nervously at her phone, checking the time, and starting to make noise about having to get ready for Natasha’s dad once we reach the next stop before the train carries on through the night.
One down, one to go. I reflect internally.
I don’t dislike Renee or even Suzanna. They seem nice enough, but they don’t factor in with my plans.
My growing need to not only kiss Natasha more but to claim her as my own.
To fill her with my seed, and once we’re clear of this train, to carry her into our new life together.
That’s all I want to talk about right now, and only with Natasha.
Hearing about her mom’s love life or her bratty friend’s attitude is just about to reach its peak when we’re finally done.
Dinner’s over and I take it on myself to remind Natasha that she’s still mine for the rest of the day.
Checking my watch, I estimate we have a few more hours.
Renee looks concerned again, but seeing the total for the bill as I sign for it without looking, then noticing just how much happier her daughter looks in my company, she seems to reach some peace with the idea.
“You’ll at least see me off when I have to go?” her mom asks, while Suzanna stifles a groan. Murmuring something about god and not being able to believe it.
“We all will,” I tell Renee confidently.
The sooner you’re all out of our hair the better.
I move to stand, and notice how hard I still am. Having been all through dinner.
I casually keep a hold of my napkin, and using it to shield what I can of my monstrous arousal, I motion for Natasha’s hand, leading her back where she belongs.
In first class with me.
First class everything from now on for her.
Her friend Suzanna starts to balk again, and we both turn to see her whining again about not having any time with Natasha until she suddenly stops.
Her face going pale. Her mouth flattens and then starts to quiver as she begins to retch, about to be sick.
She forgets everything else and spins on her heel, dashing for the restroom with her mouth covered.
“All that rich food,” I shrug, trying not to laugh. Watching Natasha momentarily torn between going after her best friend to see if she’s alright and staying where I think we both know she belongs from now on.
“I’ll go see if she’s alright,” Renee says, giving Natasha a look over her shoulder.
“Sorry,” Natasha murmurs, pleasing me instantly when she absently reaches for my hand, but she lets hers drop before I can reach her.
“Mom will be gone soon. But Suze…” she says.
I grip her hand in mine, leading her back to my suite.
“She can look after herself,” I tell her, sounding friendly enough but not hiding my growing irritation at the fact Natasha feels she has to answer to anyone but herself.
Her tiny hand squeezes mine in a silent message that tells me so much.
She’s embarrassed by her friend, and she’s shy. A little frightened even, but it’s a good kind of scared.
I feel the same butterflies in my stomach, and I signal back to her with a squeeze before pausing to face her.
No one’s watching, and I wouldn’t care if they were.
I lean over and take her face in my hands, and kiss her tenderly.
Kiss her the way I wanted to the first time, but I’m fast realizing every time I kiss her. Every time I touch her, it’s better than the first time.
Once back in my little suite, which only feels smaller compared to the dining car, I put my theory to the test. Kissing her again, and again.
Harder, firmer. Then softer, whispering my lips against hers until we both fall into a locked and passionate embrace.
Chapter Nine
Natasha
Feeling my hand in his again, knowing we’re heading back to his suite to be alone.
I feel a ripple of nervous energy run across my belly.
The thought of him kissing me again, running his hands all over me.
I almost forget how good it feels to walk beside him until he stops.
He leans in and kisses me right there in the corridor.
The next thing I know, we’re in his suite, and he’s lifting up my sweater, eager to get his hands in all the places I know I need them. It’s the only thing that’s gonna work.
Pretending I don’t want this or don’t deserve it? That’s over.
I’m so done with that.
Michael uses me to slam the door shut, his whole body hard up against mine as he tries to undress me and himself at the same time somehow.
