The Cabin: Chloe's Story (Book Two) (The Cabin Novellas) by Natalie Stark Page A

grateful, wouldn’t he? How grateful? Let’s go for a drink grateful? She doubted it.
    Then, glancing up at the overhead rack, she noticed his case was missing. Had he taken it? Was he getting off the train a stop or two before his own? She feared. What about his phone? How would he call whoever it was he called each night as soon as he got off the train? Easing herself from her seat, the young woman peered through the throng of people standing in the gangway. Screwing her eyes almost shut, she could just see the guy making his way into the vestibule. Grabbing hold of the overhead handrail, she cut her way through the standing commuters, the guy’s phone clutched in her free hand. The door at the end of the carriage made a wheezing sound as it slid automatically open. She stepped into the vestibule. Where was he? She wondered, realising she had lost sight of him. She peered into the adjoining carriage, but couldn’t see him.
    Then, to her right she heard a clicking noise, as if a door was being suddenly unlocked. Glancing round, she watched as the bathroom door was swung open. The guy was standing in the open doorway and staring at her. Before she’d had the chance to hand him his phone or say anything, he had her by the wrist and was yanking her into the bathroom. Kicking the door closed with the heel of his shoe, he pressed her flat against the mirror above the tiny sink.
    “What do you think you’re...” she gasped, heart racing.
    “Shhh,” he demanded, placing one finger against her soft lips.
    “Your phone...” she started again, brushing his finger away with her own. 
    Snatching it from her, he shoved it into his trouser pocket, not once breaking her stare. He slipped a hand around her waist, pressing the flat of it into the small of her back, thrusting her hips towards his.
    “Get off me...” she said, her heart now racing in her chest, consumed by an overwhelming mixture of fear and excitement.
    “You’ve been watching me every day for the last two years,” he whispered, shoving his free hand beneath her skirt, pushing her thighs apart.
    Instinctively, she tried to force them shut again, crushing his hand tight between her legs. She felt his knuckles brush against the soft silk of her panties, his fingertips plucking at the tops of her stockings.
    “I haven’t been watching you,” she breathed, half of her wanting to loosen her grip on him so his hands could explore her further.
    “Liar,” he whispered, running his free hand up the length of her back and gripping her long blond hair in his fist. “You’ve been sitting there each day for the last two years getting yourself all wet, wondering what it would be like to be kissed by me, to be touched by me, to be fucked by me.”
    “No...” she started, the last of her sentence breaking off into a gasp as he forced one hand between her legs, pushing them apart again.
    “You’re wet now,” he whispered against her cheek, as he hooked one finger under her panties and stroked the tip of it over her clit. He felt her shudder against him and his cock stiffened.
    “I’m not,” the young woman sighed, trembling with a nervous excitement against him as he slid his finger slowly up and down. With her thigh muscles tightening, she eased her legs slightly open, telling him without words that it was okay for him to explore further.
    Pulling her head back by the hair and exposing her neck, the man lunged forward, covering her neck in a series of frenzied kisses, his lips pressing tightly over her smooth skin, his teeth nipping at her flesh. She arched her back, her breasts thrusting outwards. Untangling his fingers from her hair, he worked his hand down her neck towards her breasts. He rubbed his hand over them, pressing and squeezing.
    “Admit you’ve been watching me,” he whispered, easing two of his fingers into her pussy beneath her skirt.
    “No,” she murmured, pushing herself up onto the sink so he could slide his fingers deeper into