The train to my heart

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Finding her self in the arms of a handsome stranger while trying to escape a narcissist, controlling ex was unexpected, falling in love with her hired killer was unimaginable. Will this train ride end in tragedy or can there be a happily ever after for a military brat and an assassin.

Romance / Fantasy
Shelly Gray
4.9 20 reviews
Age Rating:

Chapter 1: Train to no where

That feeling of being watched sends a chill through my spine as I reach for the rail pulling myself up onto the first step of the train.

It is not fear that builds, but rather curiosity as I turn to see him standing tall and broad like a lone mighty oak tree.

A silence falls over the blurring crowd as his Icy blue eyes pierce through mine. My breath catches while my heart skips. His short black hair perfectly cut and combed to the left with a military edge. His day old un shaven jaw line protrudes a masculinity of a wild nature while his black tailored suit speaks of a well mannered gentleman.

The corner of his mouth lifts with a devilish grin baring a slight scar just above those wickedly tempting lips, and not very gentlemanly intent.

With the sound of the train horn the moment is lost and my handsome stranger is gone.

With a deep breath I make my way through the isles to my seat. Wanting to find peace amongst the amplified voices of fellow commuters, I put in my ear buds. The sweet voice of Adele swiftly blocks the outside world. I clutch my pack tightly holding what remains of my 24 years and watch as the past fades like street lights in the night.

Handsome strangers perspective:
She stood out like a single blossom giving life to a dying tree with her radiant beauty.
Her long black hair flowed mid way down her perfectly postured back, her leather jacket and black jeans gave definition to her hour glass shape. Hugging every sweet curve.

I knew I was in trouble the moment she turned and locked those ocean blue eyes onto mine, flashing a seductive smile with those sweet desirable lips.

I could hear the echo of my heart pound hard against my chest. Little did Page Dalton know she was about to change both our lives. Me a hired killer turning soft over a girl I hadn’t officially met yet.

Pages perspective:
The subtle vibration and soothing sway of the train car put me at such ease I drifted into a peaceful slumber.

There before my eyes the handsome stranger stood. His hair was tussled, his jacket tossed to the side, his white shirt unbuttoned just to his chest, flashing two very defined peck muscles. His wicked smile sends a chill to my core as his hand sweeps gently up my arm and over my shoulder. He leans in with his lips inches from my exposed neck.

Suddenly I begin to shake. My eyes flutter open to a women leaning over my seat with her hand on my shoulder. Her long blond hair pulled tight into a tail, her maroon colored dress suit showing off her perfect Barbie figure,with the top two buttons of her white blouse showing just the slightest crevice of her obviously fake boobs. Her name tag read Karen and her smile was just as fake as her double D’s.

Karen: Miss Dalton

Page: Yes

She slipped me a folded piece of paper.

Karen: A gentleman in the upper car asked that I give this to you.

With a snooty look she whipped her tail and quickly walked away. Of course it would be a Karen to ruin a perfectly good dream.

I unfolded the note to find very nice hand writing that read. “Please join me for dinner in the upper dinning car” signed Stranger in the suite. I found myself biting my lower lip and performing involuntary kegels. I made way to the restroom to shake off the intense sexual energy and freshen up.

My body was getting the better of me. I stare at my reflection in the mirror reminding myself to trust no one. To get involved with no one. Then again with what I’ve been through the past year, hell most my life why not have a little casual fling with a perfectly tailored male stranger on a train going no where.

But what if he was. My thoughts spin off into the possibility this could be a set up. He could be working for my ex. I look into my blue eyes and smile.

Page: Then let’s have some fun.

I give my tight black tank top a little tug revealing just a hint of cleavage, and zip my leather jacket up just below my breast. I make my way to the upper dining car eyes on alert. Till they fall once more into his icy blues. The sound of the fellow commuters fade out as I find myself in a trans.

He stands wearing a knowing smile as if he knew I wouldn’t deny his invite. This wasn’t like me but there was something about him, I was drawn to. I step toward his out reached arm allowing him to guid me into the booth. He casually sweeps the room before taking his seat. I eye him curiously trying to get a read. Nothing screams that I am in danger, and the irregular heart beat pounding in my ears was not alarm but excitement. Again my body is defeating my mind.

Get it together Page.

Page: What are you some kind of spy or something?

I ask jokingly.

With a slight chuckle and an insanely core quivering deep voice he replies.

Handsome stranger: You figured me out. I’m Bond, James Bond.

He reaches his hand across the table to take mine.

Page: Then you can call me Kitty.

He pulls my hand up to his lips.

Handsome stranger: I do love a good pussy.

Well there’s an ice breaker. We both burst out with laughter.

Handsome stranger: My real name is Zander,

Page: Page

He kisses my hand never breaking eye contact. Until the French looking waiter with his pencil mustache and dark curly hair clears his throat. He hands us menus and tells us the specials before asking what we would like to drink.

Page: Ice tea please.

Waiter: For you sir?

Zander: Crown Royal!

Waiter: I will be back with your drinks and to take your order shortly.

Page: I thought Russians only drank vodka.

Zander: How did you know I was Russian.

Page: Its very faint but I thought I could hear a slight accent, and I assume Zander is short for Alexander?

Zander: Very observant, perhaps you are the spy.

I shake my head.

Page: Just good at picking out accents. I did a lot of traveling as a kid with my father.

Zander: Military brat?

I nod.

Page: He was a marine.

Zander: Was?

Waiter: Your tea, and a crown royal for you sir. Are you ready to order.

We both nod and order. Zander never taking his eyes off of me as he hands the menus to the waiter. Causing a blush to rise in my cheeks, and a moisture to pool between my thighs. His grin says it all. He knows the effect his mere presence has on me. God am I in trouble.

Zanders perspective:
The minutes seem to drag as I began to wonder if she would accept my invite. As quickly as the doubts surfaced they were gone. The same echo of my heart hit my chest awakening me to her presence.

There she was swaying her hips in sync with the motion of the train. Like a dark angle, she made her way gracefully to me. I could just sit and stare at her beauty with out ever speaking a word.

Hearing the word spy hit me like a smack upside the head. I was not a spy exactly, and yet in my trained profession one could say I was.

Her laughter at my perverted joke was a relief. She is young and yet has an older soul of a strong women that does not take offense to a dominate male of old ways.

It was torture being so close to her and not ravishing her every inch with my mouth.
As if reading my thoughts she shifted her shoulders back, perking her breasts out just slightly in a tease, as she tossed her hair to one side.

My cock pulsating with need and desire.

Waiter: Two teriyaki smoked salmon on a bed of steamed rice.

Zander: Cock blocked.

I mumbled beneath my breath. Her head was down but I could see her giggling. Shit did she really hear that. Who was this women and how does she have this effect on me.

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