Track 9
The train hummed, empty and way too quiet. Rows of dark red seats stretched out around me under the dim lights. Outside the rain turned the trees into a giant grey blur.
I clutched my tote bag strap till my knuckles turned white. It was the only familiar thing in this huge empty train.
Then the door at the end slid open with a quiet shush.
And there he was.
Neil.
He didn't just walk, he walked like he owned the entire train. He was so tall he made the whole train feel tiny, with shoulders that completely filled out a plain black t-shirt and wearing a black jacket. He opened the jacket. His arms were what got me. You could see the muscles running down his forearms with veins showing through and my breath literally caught in my throat.
It was such a stupid reaction, the exact kind of thing I always made fun of my friends for. But my heart was suddenly pounding so hard against my ribs.
I stared down at my shoes, suddenly super interested in a scuff mark on my white sneakers.
Don't look, Evie. Don't you dare look.
The train swayed and I stumbled a little, my tote bag slipping right off my shoulder. Before I could grab for it, a hand was already there. Large, warm, with long fingers that caught the strap perfectly.
I looked up and my gaze locked straight into his. Dark, deep eyes that weren't just looking at me. They were seeing me.
He didn't even smile. He just held the bag, trapping me in his gaze for a second that felt like forever.
"You dropped this," he said.
His voice wasn't loud, but it filled the whole space. Low and deep, a rumble I could feel straight in my bones.
"Th-thanks," I whispered, my cheeks burning instantly.
I snatched the bag back but my fingers brushed against his for a split second. A sharp spark shot right up my arm and I flinched back like I just got burned.
He didn't move away. He just stood there like a statue, watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. Then he took the seat directly opposite me, right in my line of sight.
The space between us suddenly felt charged, the air thick with something I couldn't even name. The hum of the train sounded way louder now, way more demanding.
I tried to look out the window, focusing on the blurry trees passing by. But my eyes kept drifting back.
To the way the dim light caught the sharp line of his jaw. To the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest. To those arms resting on his knees, veins still standing out even while he was just sitting there.
A total war started inside my head. The good studious girl everyone knew screamed at me to look away, to be proper, to be careful. But another part of me, a deeper part I didn't even know existed, wanted to lean in.
It whispered, Look closer.
The train swayed again, way more violently this time. I gripped the armrest until my knuckles turned white.
And then, he moved. Not a lot. He just shifted in his seat, bringing one leg up over his knee. The movement looked totally casual but it brought him so much closer.
The space between us shrank from feet to inches. I could even smell him now. Not perfume, just something cleaner. Soap and skin.
My throat went dry. I swallowed hard, the sound way too loud in the quiet train.
He saw it. I knew he did, because the corner of his mouth tilted up, just a fraction. It wasn't a smile. It was like he knew. A quiet, confident understanding of the exact effect he was having on me.
And that was somehow more terrifying and way more thrilling than anything else he could have done.
Every few minutes, he shifts and the muscles in his thighs press against the fabric of his trousers.
My short yellow dress, usually so simple and bright, felt totally ridiculous now. Way too innocent for this moment. This yellow dress suddenly feels too short, too thin, like I'm wearing nothing but sunshine and wicked thoughts.
He catches me staring again, and this time, he doesn't look away. His eyes, dark as midnight, travel down my body, slow and deliberate, like he's tasting me with just a look.
Heat pools in my belly, a sensation so unfamiliar and powerful I have to press my thighs together.
"Careful," he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates right through me. "You keep looking at me like that, and I won't be responsible for what happens."
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "And what if I don't want you to be responsible?" Wow stupid Evie, what am I saying? To A STRANGER?? What's wrong with me?
My mind was completely racing, back and forth, yes and no. But my body had already decided. A warm flush spread across my chest, something that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with pure want.
I wanted this stranger. The thought was so shocking, so completely off-limits, it sent another wave of heat right through me.
I'd always been caged by this "good studious shy girl" image and he was the key I suddenly, desperately wanted to turn.
He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, closing the distance between us even more. The air practically crackled.
"Evie," he said, my name a low vibration on his lips.
I hadn't even told him my name. How did he...? My brain stuttered to a complete halt.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the way he was looking at me, like he was about to devour me whole.
"You're shaking."
And I was. A fine tremor ran through me, from my clenched hands all the way to my toes.
I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop anything that was about to happen.
The world outside the train window dissolved into meaningless streaks of color.
The only thing that felt real was the space between us, shrinking with every single beat of my frantic heart.
He stood up. The movement was fluid, predatory.
My breath hitched. I pressed myself as far back into the seat as I could but there was nowhere left to go.
He didn't rush. He crossed the small space in two long strides and sat down right beside me. The seat cushion dipped under his weight, our thighs brushing together.
The contact was technically innocent but it sent a jolt straight through me, so powerful I could feel it in my teeth.
"Stop," I whispered, but the word was just a breath, a useless puff of air. It didn't sound convincing even to my own ears.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Your lips say stop," he murmured, his face so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. "But your body is singing a different song."
And then his hand was on me.
His fingers pressed gently into my waist, sending a sudden spike of electricity through my whole body. I completely forgot how to breathe.
"Neil," I gasped out, the sound barely escaping my throat.
"You know my name too," he whispered, a sharp, dark flash of satisfaction in his eyes.
His thumb stroked a slow, deliberate line through the yellow fabric of my dress, tracing the curve of my hip. My skin scorched everywhere he touched. My mind was screaming at me to push him away but my hands just clung to the edge of the seat, completely frozen.
He leaned in even closer until his lips were practically grazing my earlobe.
"Tell me to leave, Evie," he murmured, his low voice vibrating straight through my chest.
"Tell me you actually want me to walk away."
It wasn't rough. It was deliberate.
He placed his palm flat against my waist, right over the thin cotton of my yellow dress. My muscles clenched instantly under his touch. A gasp escaped my lips.
His thumb started to move, tracing a slow, maddening circle that felt both soothing and somehow ignited a fire low in my belly.
The guilt was a tidal wave, crashing straight over me. What are you doing? Get away! You don't know him!
But my body completely betrayed me. A soft sigh slipped from my throat and I leaned into his touch, just a fraction. Just enough
He took it as a total invitation.
His other hand came up to cup the back of my neck, his fingers tangling right into the loose hair at my nape. His touch was firm, completely possessive.
He tilted my head to the side, exposing the long line of my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut tight.
This wasn't happening. This was a dream. A nightmare. A fantasy.
His thumb stroked gently along my jawline, tilting my face up just a tiny bit higher.
"Look at me," Neil whispered, his voice dropping an octave, rich and thick with something heavy.
"Don't hide from this, Evie."
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. The speed of it was terrifying but the sensation of his hand on my skin was wiping out every single rational thought I had left. I couldn't think about being the good girl anymore. I couldn't think about anything except how close his mouth was to mine.
He lowered his head until his lips were barely a millimeter away, teasing the corner of my mouth.
"Tell me," he murmured, his breath brushing over my lips
"Tell me you want this as much as I do."
His lips touched my neck. Softly at first, just a whisper of a kiss.
Then he pressed harder, an open-mouthed kiss that made my entire body arch straight up. A strangled little sound escaped me.
"Please..."
I didn't even know if I was begging him to stop or begging him for more.
"I haven't even touched you yet and you're already undone. What am I going to do with you?" Neil whispered in my ear.
His grip on my waist tightened, pulling me impossibly closer until there was zero air left between us. His lips dragged a searing path up the column of my neck, stopping right beneath my ear.
"Please what, Evie?" he whispered, his voice dangerously rough.
His warm tongue flicked against my sensitive skin, sending a violent shudder straight down my spine. I gripped the fabric of his t-shirt, my knuckles digging into his chest. I could feel the heavy, erratic thud of his own heart beating underneath my palm. He wasn't as calm as he was pretending to be.
He pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes searching mine with a wild, hungry heat.
"Say it," Neil demanded softly, his thumb resting over the pulse fluttering in my throat. "Tell me what you're begging for."
"Please what, Evie?" he growled against my skin, the vibration shooting straight through me.
He didn't wait for an answer. He kissed me again, lower this time, right near my collarbone. His tongue darted out, a hot, wet flick that made my toes curl inside my sneakers.
His hand on my waist slid around to my back, pressing me flush against him.
And I could feel it. The hard, undeniable proof of his desire pressing against my hip.
A tiny gasp caught in my throat, my hands instinctively clutching his shoulders. The sheer heat coming off him was totally overwhelming.
" Neil..." I breathed out, my voice completely wrecked.
"Evie..." Breathe.
"You're driving me insane," he muttered, his lips tracing a slow path back up to my jaw. "You have no idea, do you?"
Every single moral I had built my life on was completely burning up in the space between us. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could feel was him.
He paused, his face hovering right over mine, his heavy gaze dropping down to my mouth.
"Look at me," he whispered, his voice dangerously dark. "Tell me to stop, Evie. Right now. Because if you don't..."
His lips brushed against mine, a tiny, tormenting touch that made my whole body ache.
"...I'm not going to."
"You are so delicate, Evie. It makes me want to handle you with extreme care... or completely break you."
His kiss is gentle at first, a soft exploration that quickly turns hungry, possessive. He nips my bottom lip, a gentle bite that sends a jolt straight to my core.
His other hand finds my thigh, fingers tracing circles higher and higher under the hem of my dress until I'm trembling with anticipation.
"So responsive," he growls against my mouth.
My mind went totally blank with panic and a thrill so intense it was dizzying.
His heartbeat, a strong, steady thud, pulsed right against my palm. He was so solid. So real. So hot.
"Look at me," he commanded softly.
My eyes fluttered open, completely locked into his intense gaze.
"I can feel your hands," Neil whispered, his lips practically resting against mine now. "You're not pushing me away, Evie. You're holding on."
He was right. My fingers were digging into his t-shirt anchoring me to him as if the whole world was spinning out of control.
"Say my name," he murmured.
He wasn't forcing me. He was waiting.
I said "Neil..."
"Open your eyes," he murmured, his breath brushing over my wet eyelashes. "Look at me and tell me you hate this. Tell me to get off this train at the next stop and I will."
My chest heaved as I finally forced my eyes open. He was right there, his dark eyes searching mine, completely raw, completely unreadable.
I wanted to say it. I wanted to scream at him to go away, to leave me alone, to let me go back to my safe, predictable life. But the words literally froze in my throat.
Because the terrifying truth was... I didn't want him to leave.
"Evie," he said again, his voice a dark caress. "Open your eyes."
Slowly, unwillingly, I obeyed.
His dark eyes were burning into mine, filled with a fire that completely mirrored the one consuming me. He saw everything. My fear, my guilt and my desperate, trembling want.
"Your body wants this," he stated, not as a question, but as a total fact. "Let it have what it wants."
He hovered there, his breath hot against my mouth, refusing to take the final step for me. He wanted me to break first. He wanted me to surrender.
