Natalie Acres (28 page)

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he scanned the surrounding area before boarding. Since they occupied the final car, the caboose, they wouldn’t be disturbed unless they used the open airy space at the front of the car.

A smile tugged at his lips. The sooner he dragged Kimberly up to the front of the car, the better. Perhaps they would go dancing after a private dinner. They, they would return to their rail car and use the glassed-in suite for Kimberly’s exhibitionism pleasure.

Cherie would probably stay in that portion of the car, too. The little firecracker loved showcasing her talents. She and Kimberly would have a good time.

Taking hold of the brass rail, Sebastian swung his body forward and entered the rail car. About that time, he heard the conductor yell, “All aboard!”

Upon entering their private quarters, he was greeted by Kimberly. Her eyes were downcast, her body tense. She parted her legs a few inches, bowed her head, and placed her hands behind her back, thrusting her chest forward.

He took a moment to admire her. Wyatt entered then, stalling right inside the doorway.

Cherie snickered. “For the love of God, you two. Put your tongues back in your mouths.”

“I told you we should’ve left her at home,” Sebastian teased.

“I’m your eyes and ears,” she reminded him, snatching her handbag from the sofa and popping a kiss on each of their cheeks. “The two of you be good to my girl here. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“What time is dinner?” Sebastian asked, unable to avert his gaze. Even dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, Kimberly looked beautiful. She wore a snug red top with a scoop neckline. The material stretched across her breasts and clung to her belly before disappearing behind a walnut-colored belt bunched around dark denim jeans.

“I’m more interested in dessert,” Wyatt said.

Kimberly twitched, but she didn’t lift her gaze. Sebastian crossed his arms and studied her as Cherie muttered something about being ridiculously love struck.

Maybe Cherie was right. He was certainly in awe of one beautiful creature.

His abs tightened and his thighs bunched with the thought. He needed her touch. He longed for her lips on his, her body under his body.

No, lust didn’t provoke this sort of longing. Love was the only sensible explanation.

“Relax, baby,” Sebastian said.

“You really shouldn’t have gone to this much trouble.” Her fingers skimmed the top of an antique desk. She then strolled to the window running the length of the conversation carriage, the main area of their rail car.

Wyatt’s gaze fixated on the furniture, and a smile curved his lips. Sebastian didn’t have to guess where the majority of their toys had been placed.

Sitting on the cherry bench, he swung his legs under the baby grand piano. Without preamble or really thinking about what he wanted to play, his fingers ran rampantly over the keys.

A look of surprise washed across her face. “I didn’t know you play.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Sebastian told her, entranced by her presence.

How often had he longed for moments like these? How many times had he attended auctions just to see if his bid would stick? How many nights had he spent fantasizing about her, dreaming of her?

“Teach me,” she rasped, leading Wyatt to the piano. Once Wyatt sat next to Sebastian, she knelt at their feet.

Placing her hands on Wyatt’s knees, she seemed to plead with both of them, her gaze working between them like a lover’s hand, stroking them away from everyday reality, drawing them beyond the realm of fantasy, into a deep form of manipulated seduction.

Kimberly knew the score. She knew how to play the game. In some ways, her experience frightened Sebastian. He’d been with a lot of women, and several of them were trained for submission, but this was different.

One look at Kimberly and he knew what she wanted. He understood what she needed.

Wyatt cupped her face and bent down to kiss her. His tongue worked its way between her giving lips and Sebastian grew hard watching them. His fingers strummed against the ivory keys as he picked out a soothing melody, a song about lost loves and forgotten commitments.

Kimberly wasn’t just a submissive woman. She needed to hand over complete control.

Maybe it was her quiet nature. In many ways, she was very reserved. He stilled for a moment as an erotic image from the night before filled his memory.

Her sexuality would suggest she was anything but a demure young woman. He narrowed his eyes as if he needed to strain in an effort to recapture the memories from the night before.

Good God, she was beauty in motion. He recalled how she’d aggressively pursued Wyatt. To many onlookers, she would’ve been viewed as a challenge, as a sub willing to test and try the Dominants desperate to keep that upper hand.

“What do you think of the train, Kimberly?” Wyatt asked, interrupting Sebastian’s thoughts.

Kimberly stared at him blankly, but didn’t respond. She was already in submission mode and Sebastian couldn’t help but think she would remain that way for days to come.

Submission wasn’t an act for her. It wasn’t a role she stepped in and out of at will. Submissiveness lived at her core. And the more time they spent together, the more they would see evidence of her submissive nature.

“Sub, what do you think of the rail car?” Sebastian asked, realizing Wyatt wouldn’t receive a response until he fed her need, fueled that growing desire.

She quickly scanned the space around them and pointed at the cluster of antique French walnut armchairs. With tall arched backs and striped burgundy-and-beige upholstery, the seating for four was located next to the fully stocked bar, complete with bottles of unopened cognac and several visible wine decanters and choice whiskeys. “It’ll do.”

“I’m glad,” Sebastian said, laughing.

The posh furniture was a bit upscale for his taste. Along the opposite window, there were three sets of tables for two. With stately regal elegance, the high seatbacks showcased twisted barley legs and armrests. Even with the padded cushion seats, the chairs looked very uncomfortable.

“I feel like I’m in an action-suspense movie and we’re filming on the Orient Express,” she admitted, searching the car.

“Have you seen the bedroom?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes,” she replied, her eyes hooded.

“Why don’t you go in there now, sub,” Sebastian suggested.

“By myself?” she asked, definite play in her voice.

“We’ll be right in.”

Before she made it out of the main rail car, Sebastian started playing another tune, one with a definite jazzy flare. “Oh and, sub? Wyatt placed some toys in the desk. Why don’t you choose a few and play until we join you?”

Apparently wise to the building sexual tension, Kimberly kept her back to them and chose a few items from a drawer. Sebastian smirked as he played the piano, his fingers racing over the keys as he pounded out a melody indicative of his growing sexual frustration.

Wyatt stared at her ass until she disappeared on the other side of the half wall. “Remember this trip only lasts about seventeen hours.”

“Your point?” Sebastian tilted his chin and closed his eyes as the music became part of him, lifting him higher, filling his soul.

“While I enjoy the entertainment, we’d probably have a better time with Kimberly.”

“And we will. Let’s just give her a few minutes. She needs to use that sensual imagination and think of ways to please us while satisfying herself.”

“I don’t want her satisfying herself.”

“Then maybe you should poke your head in the bedroom and remind her that she can only find satisfaction when she’s granted permission.”

“Kimberly knows the rules of the game,” Wyatt said.

“It’s not a game, Wyatt. Not to her. Not to me.”

“And you think I’m playing here?”

“You were the one who figured out what she needed. Now, for the life of me I can’t understand why you’re unwilling to give her what she desires most.”

“And you’ve tripped over yourself to please her?”

“I’m waiting on you,” Sebastian said, poking one ivory key at a time.

Wyatt placed his hand on the key cover and snapped his wrist, pretending like he intended to mash Sebastian’s hands between the rounded wooden cover and the piano keys. “We should talk.”

Sebastian scooted away from his instrument of choice. “About?”

“I think she’s ready to move on without Neely.”

“I would hope so,” Sebastian said. “After all the proof we’ve supplied, surely she understands the foundation of their relationship now.”

“She was already finished with Neely before I brought her to Columbia. While I was working on the renovations out at Cow Camp, Mitch kept me informed. She was spending fewer hours with Neely and throwing herself into Clink, working to gain international recognition and so forth.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact she fucked him several days ago.”

“Why does that bother you so much?”

Sebastian rose to his feet and strolled to the window, staring out as Columbia disappeared behind them, fading into the darkness as the train pulled away from the station. “If we had stepped forward a long time ago, we might have saved her.”

“Maybe she doesn’t need to be saved, Sebastian. Maybe all she needs is love.”

Wyatt joined Cherie in the dining car a few minutes later. He pondered his own assessment of what Kimberly needed and wanted most.

“Where’s Sebastian?” Cherie asked, handing him a drink.

“Something wrong with the brandy?” he asked, staring into the glass.

“I’ve had a few,” Cherie replied. “And you look like you could use one.”

“I won’t turn down good liquor,” he muttered, glancing around the room. “Everyone pleasant enough so far?”

“I suppose,” she replied. “I’ve been trying to make my way to the front of the train. There’s a lot of excitement up there.”

Wyatt turned up the tumbler and took a hearty chug. “Is it a private car?”

“Apparently so,” Cherie said, sticking her lip out. “And here I thought we were the only special guests on the train.”

“We were,” he said, stroking his chin. “We need to find out who had enough power to add a private rail car to this train.”

“Kimberly’s parents?”

“I doubt it. I sent Mitch a text to let him know what we were doing so the Cartwells wouldn’t worry. If they were on the train, they wouldn’t add a car.”

“You never know,” Cherie said. “The whole family has a sick fascination with sex.”

“They have a sick fascination with love.”

“Then you’ll fit right in,” Cherie said, slapping him between the shoulder blades.

“Can I ask you something?” Wyatt grabbed her arm before she left to join the voyeurs at the front of the train.

“By the look on your face, I couldn’t stop you so go ahead.”

“You and me?”

Cherie placed her palm to his cheek. “No regrets here, Wyatt. You were always in love with Kimberly. It had gotten so bad that even club goers told me not to waste my time. You gave me experience without making me feel used.”

“But I trained you without—”

“Without consummating the relationship?” Cherie interrupted him by snorting out a round of laughter. “I would probably hate you right now if you had trained me, fucked me, and still let me go. All I feel for you is gratitude and love.”

“I love you, too, you know,” Wyatt said. “And you’ll always be under my protection.”

“Oh listen at you,” she drawled, snickering. “You sound like you’re in the mob.”

“I guess I do.”

“Come on, Bugsy,” she teased, looping her arm through his. “Let’s see who has more money than Sebastian.”

“Or spends it like they have more money than Sebastian?”

She groaned. “Exactly.”

* * * *

By the time they squeezed by countless couples and voyeurs, Wyatt was impatient. It had taken about ten minutes to make their way to the front of the train and he was disappointed once they arrived there.

Patrons shuffled between the theatre-type seating located on a covered walkway between cars. Someone grumbled about the short performance and someone else complained about the age of the exhibitionists. Another few couples sat closely together, acting as if they couldn’t wait for another performance.

“What do you think?” Cherie asked. “Should we go?”

“No,” Wyatt replied, taking his seat on the front row. There were only four rows of five chairs in a bleacher-type configuration, but by the number of people they passed on the way to the rail car, Wyatt would guess the exhibitionists had enjoyed quite an audience.

A door opened and closed and the glass dome shook as the train continued down the tracks. The arena, which was the dome area of this particular rail car, occupied about fifteen percent of the car’s square footage and was completely surrounded by glass.

The back wall, which would’ve housed a terrace-style door in the middle, was covered by a drawn theatre-style curtain. The burgundy and gold hues made Wyatt think of the hometown reel-to-reel movie theatres. The private rail car looked like a mirror image of their compartment except their dome area was considered an open-deck observation carriage which allowed viewers the opportunity to stand extremely close to the exhibitionists.