Train's Clash (The Last Riders Book 9) (6 page)

Killyama stuck one long leg out to keep him from walking away. “Chill.”

Train sank back down onto his chair as she took her time to finish her beer.

“Maybe we need to give a
little
to get a
little
.”

“What in the hell does that mean?” Train asked in confusion.

“We could hook up occasionally when we want a little something-something. No strings attached. You’ll have to give up the rule of not banging a woman who doesn’t belong to The Last Riders.”

“What will you have to give up?” he asked suspiciously.

“That you’ll be doing other women.”

“That won’t work for me.”

“Why not?”

Train rolled his eyes. “You’ve been giving me shit ever since we were together, and you think you won’t pull out a gun if you think I’ve been with another woman? And there will be other women.”

She shrugged. “Who says you would be the only man in my life?”

“You’re seeing someone?” His jaw clenched. “Is it serious?”

“If it were, would I be thinking of doing you?”

“Men get killed when they think their woman is cheating.”

“Women do, too. Looks like we’ll both have to take our chances that we’ll be open and honest, not only with each other, but others, too. I don’t do relationships, so I don’t have a problem telling them they aren’t the only one keeping my tits warm.”

He bet she didn’t.

Train nodded. “I can do that.” He wanted her badly enough that he was going to take the chance. He drowned out the voice at the back of his mind that told him he was the one to fall for his own spiel.

“I can, too.”

Train started to get up again. “Let’s go.”

“Whoa. Slow down, sailor. We need to settle the ground rules.”

“Rules?” Train’s brow furrowed. He knew it was too good to be true. Killyama never did anything easy.

“Rules. You shouldn’t have a problem with that. The Last Riders are big on rules, remember?”

“Tell me what they are, and I’ll decide.” He wasn’t about to let his dick and Killyama talk him into anything else that he would regret later.

“Protection. You use it with everyone.”

“That’s a given.”

“Even if they are giving you a blowjob,” she clarified.

“Have you lost your mind? I’m not putting a condom over my dick when a woman gives me a blowjob.” Shaking his head vehemently, he made himself stop when she gave him an unblinking stare.

“Then don’t expect me to go down on you without one.”

Train gritted his teeth. “It’s not like I would go to you right after being with another woman—”

“I’m giving you a choice. Either you can get all your blowjobs from other women, or my mouth is the only one that’s going to be sucking you off.” She shoved aside the bowl of nuts he had been nibbling on to push the nearly empty bowl of pretzels she had been eating toward him.

Train stood up without a word, going to the bar. “Give me a whiskey.”

“You never drink whiskey,” Mick commented, reaching for the bottle.

“Give me a double.” Train took out his wallet, paying for his drink before going back to the table where Killyama was leaning back in her chair, legs crossed at her ankles.

Train sat down, downing his shot. “Any of the women in the club will give a blowjob anytime I want, so you can scratch that.”

“Fine. I’m better. But if that’s what you want, it’s no skin off my nose.”

Reminding himself he didn’t hit women, he started to get up again, but Mick beat him to the punch, setting a bottle of whiskey on the table.

“You looked like you needed it.”

When he started to reach for his wallet, Mick shook his head. “Shade said it was on him.”

Shade was at Viper’s table. The brothers were amusing themselves by watching the show.

“Tell you what,” Killyama continued when Mick left. “I’ll give you one, and then you can decide. How’s that?”

Train reluctantly nodded. “You’re not going to go all psycho when I choose other women instead?”

“You won’t,” she replied confidently. “But no, I won’t go psycho.”

“Okay.”

“Cool. Now to my next rule.”

“There’s another one?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to fuck you at my apartment.”

“Why not? Are you living with someone?” he asked suspiciously.

“No. I only invite men into my bed who are special. This is sex. Stud keeps a spare bedroom; we can use that.”

“What’s wrong with my room at my club?” She was taking the wind out of his sails. He had hoped he could gradually convince her to join The Last Riders. If she didn’t come to the clubhouse, how was he going to show her what she was missing?

“I can be fair. We’ll take turns on which club we use, but don’t expect me to take any part in that swapping crap.”

“All right.” Train lowered his gaze to refill his glass. Nowhere in the rules she was sprouting off did she say he couldn’t try to change her mind. “Anything else?”

“No.”

“I have one of my own. I said before I won’t ever lie to you. I expect the same from you. Don’t ever lie to me. If you do, I’ll walk away without looking back.”

She stared at him for several minutes before nodding. “I agree.” She held her hand for him to shake.

Train stood up so fast he had to catch his chair from falling. Taking the hand she held out, he rushed them from the bar. She didn’t have trouble keeping up with his long strides.

“Where in the hell are we going?”

“We’re going to my room. It’s closer.” He stopped at his motorcycle. Getting on, he turned his head to see she hadn’t gotten on. “We going to do this or not?”

Train thought he saw a vulnerable expression on her face when he had turned around, but when he looked again after starting his bike, it was gone. He assumed it was just a trick of the light in the dark parking lot. Killyama didn’t have a vulnerable bone in her body.

She got on behind him, twining her arms around his waist. “You sure you won’t let me drive your bike?”

“I’m sure.” He peeled out of the parking lot like the hounds of hell were after them. He wanted her in his bed and under him before she could change her mind … or add more demands.

The cool night surrounded them as they rode. Train didn’t even feel it, too excited at having her again. He won a battle against Killyama, and she didn’t even know it. He was going to make sure she would crave him every second she was away. It wouldn’t take long for her to realize The Last Riders could give her something the Destructors couldn’t. Him.

Train almost laughed out loud. She would be begging to become a Last Rider.

K
illyama stared
around the small room as Train removed his shirt. The room was smaller than she had expected, the majority of the space taken over by the large bed and a nightstand that seemed to be an afterthought. Besides that, there was a small desk on one wall. Its surface was clear and neat.

When she had gotten off his bike and climbed the long flight of steps to The Last Riders’ clubhouse, she had told herself she would turn around. Instead, she had meekly followed him inside and up the stairs to his room.

She had expected the main room to have a few of The Last Riders that hadn’t attended the party at Rosie’s, but it was empty as the sounds of their steps echoed hollowly in the silence.

“It’s a small room,” she noted. “You sure no one’s going to come in?”

“No one comes in without knocking unless the door is open.”

“It’s quiet.”

Train sat down on the edge of his bed to take off his boots. Then he unbuttoned his jeans. “Everyone’s at the party or watching TV in the back room.”

“Cool.” She looked around the room again, trying to decide what to do next.

Train reached out and used the bottom of her top to tug her toward him, solving her indecision.

He pushed her midriff top higher. “Do you know how bad I want you?”

Not answering him, Killyama took out the leather band that held his hair back. It fell to his shoulders, giving him a pagan appearance.

She had lied to him when she had told him that sex with him wasn’t that great. She had wanted him again before he had even pulled out of her, and she had spent months reliving the experience.

He would never convince her to leave the Destructors. The Last Riders didn’t have Sex Piston, T.A., Crazy Bitch, and Fat Louise. They also didn’t have Stud. She didn’t know what kind of president Viper was, but Stud had earned her respect, and she liked him. There weren’t too many men she could say that about.

The feel of his mouth on her stomach curled a fissure of awareness between them. Killyama kicked off her boots so she could then kick her clothes away, wanting nothing separating her from the heat of his touch.

Train fell back on the bed sideways, gripping her waist until her pussy was poised over his mouth. He held her easily, dancing his tongue over the lips of her weeping slit. Slowly, he sat her down so he could part her thighs wider.

“Damn, you’re not wasting any time.” She could appreciate a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t shy taking it.

Unbuttoning her top and taking it off, she tried to catch her breath as her bare breasts heaved. Leaning back, she then placed her hands on the mattress so he could delve his tongue deeper inside of her.

He tongue-fucked her like there was no tomorrow. In her mind, there wouldn’t be. She had promised herself she would take it one day at a time, telling herself she could do him and keep her shit together. However, she hated to admit that him calling her psycho had actually scored a hit.

When he began using his teeth to graze her swollen clit, she trembled, unable to hold the tremors that rocked her body.

“Poor baby, how long have you been holding that in? I was just getting started,” Train crooned as he used his body to roll her over, positioning them until their heads were at the top of the bed and he was on top of her.

“Maybe I was faking it.” Killyama tried to keep her face impassive as he loomed over her.

“What did I tell you about lying to me?”

“You said you would walk away, but I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere with that stick poking me.”

Train laughed, burying his face in her neck. “I never know what you’re going to say next.”

His laughter brought back the time they had spent in her car. At first, she had blamed the joint for making her feel carefree and relaxed with him. Now she realized it was him. He wasn’t hard to talk to, and he was tender in how he touched her. It made her feel special.

Killyama shook the thought away. She wasn’t special to Train. No woman was, not unless she was a Last Rider. Then she would become one of many. She didn’t get in line for any man. She didn’t care how big of a stick he was carrying.

She licked her bottom lip. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

Train tangled his hand in her hair, lifting her mouth to his lips. “It can be a little frightening. Most of the brothers are afraid of you. You can rip a man to shreds with your mouth. I can get used to it as long as it stops at the bedroom door.” He tugged her bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling on it, almost making her forget what they were talking about. Oh, yeah, she remembered; the pussies in his club were afraid of her.

“I like to keep men on their toes.”

“You definitely do that. I wanted to strangle you when you told me that you had ‘Fuck You’ tatted on your ass.” As he said that, he rose up then flipped her over onto her stomach, brushing his lips over the curve of lower back. “Another lie?”

“Technically, it wasn’t a lie. I was thinking about getting a tattoo there, but I hate tramp stamps. I might be a tramp, but I don’t need to advertise it.”

“My name would be perfect tatted there.”

“I don’t tatt men’s names on my body.”

“Why?” Train whispered into her ear, making goose bumps rise on her arms.

“Same reason I don’t see any woman’s name on you.”

“I used to have one. I had it covered.”

“Where?”

“On my arm.”

“Why get it covered?”

“She lied to me.”

Train reached into his nightstand, taking out a condom. She felt him lift away as he opened it and put it on before she felt his weight drop down on her again.

“That feels good,” she moaned.

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

She bunched up the pillow beneath her cheek to lay more comfortably. “I like the way you fit against me.”

Killyama felt him pause, then his cock dipped between her thighs. She was so aroused he easily slipped inside of her with a hard thrust.

She was surrounded by Train’s body, his thick cock taking her an inch at a time as she quivered under him. She stayed still, letting him do all the work. Truthfully, she was worried she would come again too soon.

She liked everything he was doing to her—his groans, the way he wasn’t too rough yet forceful, the overwhelming buildup of giving herself to him. This was the only time she let her feminine side come out, a time when she could be all sweet and girly. She always had to look out for herself, but in bed with Train, she felt safe and protected, when usually she was the one who had everyone else’s back.

When she felt Train’s cock throbbing inside of her, she allowed herself to come again, holding the pillow and burying her face in it to keep from screaming out loud. She was not going to let any of the other Last Riders hear her. A woman had to have some pride.

Train heaved himself off her, settling down beside of her. She turned to her side so she could stare at him. She couldn’t see his dark eyes under his lashes, but she could see that he was breathing heavily. Killyama reached out, smoothing her hand over his corded waist.

“Poor baby, how long have you been holding that in?” Killyama mocked his words back at him.

From the look on his face, he had enjoyed the sex as much she had.

Giving him a small pat on his waist, she raised up, slipping her legs off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Train grunted out, trying to grab her and pull her back to the bed.

Evading him, she bent down for her top, and then slipped it over her head. “Going back to the party,” she answered, running her hand through her tumbled curls.

“Why? I thought you would stay the night?”

“Some other time. Where’s the bathroom?”

Train wasn’t happy with her answer. The satisfaction on his face evaporated and was replaced with injured male pride.

“In the hall. It’s the one next to mine on the left,” he answered abruptly.

“You don’t have your own bathroom?”

“No. Don’t worry about it; no one else is upstairs. I would have heard them come up the steps.”

Grabbing her pants and boots, she heard him get out of the bed as she left to go to the bathroom. She took her time washing up, giving him enough time to get dressed, and not returning until she had redressed.

Tersely, he grabbed his keys off the nightstand. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.” She kept herself calm and measured, offhandedly making herself seem unmoved by what had happened between them on the bed.

Train nodded, going for the door, but then he stopped in front of her. “Why don’t you want to stay?”

“Dude, you think I don’t know the difference between asking me out on a date and asking me to be a Last Rider? You’re the one who decided to draw a line in the sand. Don’t blame me if I’m not going to tiptoe over it when you want more.”

She hadn’t been looking for a relationship the day in the car when she had tried to entice him into another round, but she also hadn’t been looking to feel like a slut when he was ready to leave. When he had told her no and then mentioned The Last Riders, she knew exactly what he thought of her.

“Do you bitch this much when one of the women in the club don’t stay with you?”

His jaw tightened. “Never mind.”

She couldn’t read his expression, but his eyes were dark and stormy as they made their way from the club to his bike. Jumping on behind him, she grabbed his belt as Train started his bike. The night had grown cold and damp. Shivering, she pressed her breasts against his back.

He stopped the motorcycle before he pulled out of the parking lot. “I have a jacket in my saddlebag.”

Killyama twisted sideways, opening the bag to take out a leather jacket. Seeing the patches on the back of it, she started to put it back.

“What are you doing? Put it on.” Confusion clouded his features.

“It’s a Last Riders’ jacket; I’d rather freeze.” She put it back in the saddlebag.

Train turned off the motorcycle and got off.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Turning, she saw him going to a truck that was parked at the end of the lot. A minute later, he came back with a tan jacket.

“Put it on,” he demanded.

Taking it from him, she slipped it on and then grabbed his belt again when he got back on the bike.

Pressing her breasts to his back, she softly whispered into his ear, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Killyama?”

“What?”

“I’m a pretty easy-going guy, but I will only take so much.”

“You warning me?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess we’ll find out which of us has the biggest set of balls.”

“I don’t lose.” Starting the motorcycle, he pulled out onto the road.

“Neither do I.” She raised her voice, determined that he would hear her own warning above the sound of the motor. “Neither do I.”