Captivate her: Laws of Seduction Book 1 (2 page)

  Out of the corner of my eye, I try to see if my neighbor is listening to my conversation, but he seems
 
engrossed in his smart phone.

“Oh, baby girl, that was so much fun, but Brad and I want to do a wine tasting this time. We met a sommelier who is going to serve the wine, and honey, between you and me, sommeliers are hot, hot, hot.”

“Will your hot sommelier be clothed?” I snicker.

“Honey, I hope not. But believe me, it will be a treat either way.”

“I guess I can deal with one unclothed man. That will be a definite improvement on the last time.”

“Speaking of unclothed men, will you be bringing anyone?”

“I don’t plan on it, no.”

“Lainey, Lainey, Lainey what am I going to do with you? You haven’t even gone out on a date with anyone since the choker.” Yes, ever since I had
 
confided in Nick in a moment of stupidity that my ex-boyfriend, Mark, never seemed
 
to get me past the finish line, he had been calling him the choker. Yes, that is correct. Right before the big O he would choke.

Mark was a mistake that I do not like thinking about. We had met at law school orientation. He had been handsome, smart, ambitious, and charming. I was flattered that he showed an interest in me and asked me out. It had all been fine except that we just did not seem to have any chemistry. At least I did not feel any chemistry. He seems to think that we have plenty of chemistry. Every time I see him, he tries to convince me to give our relationship another chance. Unfortunately, we see each other often, since we have many of the same classes together.

Conscience of the fact that I am sitting next to the hunk of the century, I do not particularly want to go into my dating life at the moment. “Okay, Nick, you can give me a lecture when I see you.”

“But I want you to bring someone on Saturday. Preferably someone hot.”

“Fine, I will give it my best effort, but I make no promises.”

I hear Nick’s heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Lainey Marie Hart, if you don’t start doing something soon,
 
your vajayjay is going to start growing cobwebs.”

“First of all, my middle name is not Marie. Second of all, you’ve watched way too much Oprah. What decade are you from? That wasn’t even cool in the nineties.”

“Lainey Marie sounds so pretty though. So what would you like to call it? Your hoo hoo, or cha cha is a good one. Let’s see… how about bat cave? I love that one. Oh, oh, or even better: love cave. That sounds so romantic.”

“Um, okaaaay, love cave is a new one for me, and on that note I am going to have to let you go. I will see you on Saturday with or without a date.”

“With a date. Most definitely with a date. Bye Chicca.” I roll my eyes as I disconnect the call. I am sure my neighbor got an earful, but at this point it probably doesn’t matter. I secretly glance over and see that he is typing something on his smartphone. I admire how still he continues to sit. I could never manage to sit so still for so long without fidgeting or shifting around. He also sits with his tall frame folded neatly into his seat. His legs are spread out but not encroaching on my space. Some big men seem to think it is their right to take over their neighbor’s personal space too. It is actually one of my pet peeves. I just want to stab them in the leg with a fork when they take up my space.

The train seems to be creeping along at a snail’s pace. We are currently at a complete stop although not at a scheduled station. At this rate we are never going to make it back to the city. At least the crying baby has fallen asleep, and with any luck, it will stay asleep for the rest of the trip. 

I close my eyes and drift into a fantasy about hooking up with my seatmate when the conductor makes an announcement. Due to the torrential downpours, there are delays, but they hope to get us moving soon. We sit for another ten minutes when the power to our train car goes out and we are in complete darkness. Okay, this is not good. First of all, I do not like small, enclosed places. Second of all, I really don’t like small enclosed places in the dark. “Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out.” I repeat this mantra over and over to myself.

“Are you alright?” I realize that James McAllister is speaking to me. Was I repeating my mantra out loud? So not cool.

I clear my throat and try to take deep breaths to try and calm myself. Should I maybe put my head between my legs? Because it sort of sounds like I might be starting to hyperventilate. I have the sense that I am watching my body from above, which is strange. Suddenly, I feel a hand on the back of my neck shoving my head between my knees. 

“Take deep breaths. Everything is fine. You are going to be fine.” The deep, husky sound of James’s voice is oddly soothing, and my breathing slowly evens out. Cautiously, I sit back up, and feel a painful surge of embarrassment. How am I supposed to explain my sudden freak out over something as trivial as a stopped train? 

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” Maybe he will just accept my apology, and we can leave it at that. I really, really don’t want to go into any explanations. Gah, what must this guy think of me. First the vagina conversation, which I
 
hope he did not catch, and then I almost faint or hyperventilate or whatever you do when you completely freak out. I close my eyes and try to concentrate on not thinking about how sinister it feels to be in a blacked out train car. 

“I’m sure we will be moving again in just a minute. There’s nothing to worry about,” he says as I feel him take my hand. A zing of electricity shoots up my arm. Wow, I have never felt anything like that. He releases my hand again quickly. I wonder if that touch affected him too. I
 
hope he does it again because I think I felt a surge of electricity clear down to my vajay… hoo… oh, whatever.

Since I am not
 
certain I can speak at the moment, I just give a shaky smile and nod.

“Maybe talking would help to keep your mind off things. I’m James.”

“Hi, I’m Elaine, well Lainey actually. Everyone calls me Lainey or sometimes Laine, but you can just call me Lainey.” Hells bells, I hope he can make sense out of what I am saying. Yes, believe it or not I am just about to graduate near the top of my class from NYU Law School.

“Nice to meet you Lainey. What is your middle name if it isn’t Marie?”

I can feel the blood rushing into my face. “Oh, did you hear that?” James, gives me a panty melting smile. I thought he was handsome before, but when he smiles, the dimple on the right side of his face pops out. It gives him a boyish charm that is captivating.

“It’s a little difficult to ignore when you are sitting right next to me. You are a little difficult to ignore.” 

The intent look in his eyes makes my stomach drop, and I feel hot and cold chills race down my spine. I stare at him blankly as he gives me another dazzling smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

I quickly search for a response. “I am just not used to people being so direct.”

“I am direct to a fault. It can get me into a lot of trouble, but it also minimizes misunderstandings.”

James does not seem to lack confidence, and I find this incredibly attractive. I still feel butterflies in my stomach. James continues, “So is this one of the times where it has gotten me into trouble?”

I give him a little smile and say, “Not necessarily.”

“So Lainey, you never did tell me your middle name.”

“Middle names are very personal. I am not sure that I want to divulge that information so early in this acquaintanceship. What is your middle name?”

“How about quid pro quo? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“Is this sort of like that game ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’?”

“Yes, it is exactly like that.” I hear the soft murmur of voices around me. No one seems
 
disturbed to be sitting on a dark, unmoving train. The baby behind us is still asleep. His parents seem to be sleeping as well. James and I are talking in low voices that make the whole conversation seem more intimate.

I shift my mouth closer to his ear as if sharing a secret and whisper. “My middle name is Channing. It’s my mother’s maiden name. Now it’s your turn.”

“Alexander. Elaine Channing…?”

“Hart.”

“ECH, not much you can do with those initials. Are you going to tell me what had you so freaked out a while ago?”

“I don’t like being in closed in spaces, especially not in the dark.”

“Have you always been claustrophobic?”

My mind balks at the direction this conversation is taking. “No, not always, but for a long time now. It’s actually gotten much better. I rarely have panic attacks anymore.”

“I used to have panic attacks too.”

This revelation shocks me. James seems so in control and self-possessed. “You did?”

“Yea, I went through a pretty traumatic event. It took a long time to get over it.”

“But you’re completely over it now?”

“Yes. I’ve come to terms with it. I am sure that you can too.”

His words make me hopeful that someday my inner demons will leave me alone. “How did you get over it?”

A wistful smile touches his lips. “Time. I just gave it time.”

CHAPTER 2

The whispering behind us starts to grow louder.  A man wearing a Mets jersey waves his arms around excitedly. “They just announced that a Long Island Rail Road train
 
stopped just out of Hempstead has lost power and is not expected to move for several hours. That’s us.”

A loud groan echoes around the train car before pandemonium breaks out. Questions whiz all around us. “Did they say why?” asks the woman across from us.

“No,” Mets guy replies. “They think it’s due to bad weather conditions, but they don’t know anything for sure.” I hear another passenger ask Mets guy where he is getting his news. Glancing over at James, I see that he is frowning down at his phone.

“From this report it doesn’t look like we will be getting back to the city anytime soon. I guess I should have taken a car after all.” James runs is fingers through his dark hair several times before glancing over at me. “Listen, I know this whole situation makes you nervous, but you are going to be fine.”

For some reason James’s declaration soothes me. Under normal circumstances I would be about to have a meltdown. I look into his eyes and wish I could read his expression better in the dim light. It has gotten even darker in the train car with the onset of night. I reach over and take his hand, and the same jolt of awareness streaks through me when our skin touches. “You are being so nice to me, and you don’t even know me.”

“I know your middle name is Channing, and that you are afraid of the dark.” I notice that we are still holding hands, but I don’t want to let go. James glances down at our joined hands and starts to move in closer to me. I think he is going to kiss me and I hold my breath. Instead, he shifts over to my ear and whispers, “Believe me, I am not nice.” The feel of his warm breath against my ear gives me goose bumps, and I try to control a shiver.

The train car is getting colder and colder, since we no longer have power for heat. James stands up and retrieves his overcoat. “Here, wrap this around you.” For someone who says that he isn't nice, he is behaving in a chivalrous manner.

“No, you need it, and I can get some extra clothes out of my suitcase.” James pulls down my suitcase, and I open it up. He starts piling the clothes I take out on top of me. After zipping the suitcase back up, he returns it to the overhead compartment. He sits back down and spreads his overcoat over both of us. I try to share some of my clothes with him as we lean into each other. I can think of worse ways to spend trapped in a small, dark space. Body heat radiates off of him, but I am not sure if it is that or my own internal turmoil that is heating me up.

Oddly enough, I am able to doze off, but the crying of a baby wakes me. I can’t see much in the darkness, but James seems to be awake. “How long was I asleep?” I ask.

“Not long. You should try to go back to sleep. We don’t know how long we will be here.”

“I don’t think I can.” I feel pressure on my bladder, but I hope I can wait a little longer.  I am not sure that the restrooms will work properly with no power. Maybe I should not have drunk that latte after all. I sit up and turn around in my seat. The parents of the baby are desperately trying to quiet his crying. Raising my voice over the pitiful wails, I ask, “Do you think he’s hungry? I have a scone if you think it would help.”

The baby’s parents accept the scone gratefully, and it seems to work, because soon we only hear the mother singing softly. Some of the passengers are standing in the aisle and talking to each other. It has grown dark, and I wonder if we will be stuck on this train all night.

From the far side of the train car, a cat begins to meow plaintively from its carrier. James says, “Yes, kitty, this sucks. You’re saying what we are all thinking.” The entire car erupts into laughter, me along with them.

James leans over closer to me and whispers in a low voice, “Do you have plans when you get back to the city?”

I push several stray strands of my hair back over my shoulder. “I was going to meet my friend Samantha for drinks. What about you?”