“Let me know if you need anything else.” Rider’s voice was filled with tension as she felt the mattress bounce again.
Train raised his leg so he could lie by her side. He broke the passionate kiss to smooth a hand down her belly, sliding between her thighs. Lifting the leg closest to him, he raised it to his side, then brought his hand to her hip, turning her so she was facing Rider at the bottom of the bed.
She closed her eyes as she heard him putting on a condom. Then, unable to stop herself, she opened them to watch Rider’s reaction.
There were several inches separating them, but his eyes ate the distance. His gaze traveled down her breasts to her sparse curls where Train slipped his hand between them, not blocking Rider’s view of him playing with her.
She closed her eyes again, almost telling Train to stop. It was too much having Train behind her and Rider in front, although he wasn’t touching her.
When she opened her eyes again, Rider’s gaze was pinned on her pussy, his hand going to his thick cock and sliding over the long length in a slow pace as Train sank a finger into her.
“You’re so wet. I could fuck you now, and my cock would slip right in.” Train slipped his arm under her neck so he could reach her breast, tweaking the nipple as he sank another finger inside of her.
She bit back the moan that tried to slip from her lips.
Rider began pumping his dick faster as Train increased his speed, driving his fingers into her. His lust-filled gaze fueled the tendrils of need in her as if Train wasn’t using his fingers but Rider’s cock. It was the most erotic experience of her life, knowing Rider could see but not touch.
Train maintained his masterful control over her body as if he were the only one who could give her the climax she was silently screaming she needed.
“Train …” His name was the closest she could bring herself to beg.
He didn’t make her. Moving closer to her, his wet hand came to her waist as he tried to fit his hard cock into her tight opening. He had to shift his position before he could easily thrust into her.
Train buried his face in her hair. “She’s so fucking tight.”
“How tight?” Rider asked on a groan, continuing to slide his hand up and down his dick as Train moved in and out of her.
Shuddering, she turned her head and sunk her teeth into Train’s arm.
She saw Rider inching closer. She was so close to coming. If he spoiled her orgasm by touching her when she was defenseless, she would split his lip.
Unexpectedly, he took her hand in his, holding it tightly as she came, stroking his thumb over her knuckles as Train continued to thrust into her from behind.
Droplets of sweat slipped down between her breasts as Rider raised her hand so her fingers could capture them before lifting her fingers to his mouth. He sucked on one finger, his tongue twirling over it.
“You taste so good,” he murmured as Killyama let him slip another finger inside.
Train bucked against her, driving her into the mattress and forcing Rider to release her fingers.
“Fuck me back, Killy. Let Rider watch you come. Show him how your little cunt is stretched tight around my cock and how he’ll never know how fucking unbelievable it feels.”
She shoved her ass back into Train’s hips, following his commands. Her muscles tightened then shook as her climax drove him higher until he came with her.
Self-consciously, she watched as Rider came, too, gliding his hand over his cock when his dick grew even longer as he moved to his back and let his climax play out on his waist.
Killyama burrowed her face in the messed up bedspread, but Train flipped her over so she was staring up at him. Unable to bear his steady gaze, she buried her face in his shoulder.
“Since when do you get shy?” he teased.
She was trying to come up with a smart-ass reply when she heard a pounding on the bedroom door.
“Bitch, you have five seconds before I’m coming in!” Sex Piston threatened from the other side of the door.
“Please tell me you locked the door,” Killyama whispered, horrorstricken.
When she saw their faces, she scrambled off the bed and picked up her clothes, throwing them under Train’s bed. Hastily, Killyama then dropped to the floor, lifting the bedspread so she could crawl under the bed.
The men had frozen at Sex Piston’s threat, expecting Killyama to keep her out. They couldn’t understand what she was doing until it was too late, missing their chance to get dressed.
“What is she doing?” Rider asked Train, both of their faces perplexed.
“I’m hiding, assholes. Tell her I’m not here.”
28
“Are you coming or not?” Train held his phone tighter to his ear, swiveling the stool he was sitting on as he turned to see Jewell wasn’t in her office.
Getting up from his worktable, he went into the empty office, shutting himself in so he could hear Killyama.
“I’m thinking about it. I’ll let you know in a few hours.”
Her vague answer rose his suspicions.
“Where are you? I thought you were hanging out at Sex Piston’s shop today.”
“I am.”
She was lying. The woman wouldn’t consider lying if they were face to face.
“Let me talk to her. I want to say hi.”
“Dude, she doesn’t want to say hi. She’s telling her customer what happened last weekend.”
He was going to kill her. The woman knew exactly what buttons to push to distract him, and she didn’t just push; she took a sledgehammer to them.
“Gotta go. She has a customer coming in, and I need to check them in for her.”
Train stared down at the phone. She had hung up on him without telling him good-bye.
Gnashing his teeth, he dialed another number.
“Where is she?”
“Hammer and Jonas just picked Killyama up. I don’t know where they’re headed yet. When I do, I’ll call.”
“Thanks. Keep me posted.”
“Will do.”
Train shoved his cell phone back into his pocket. There wasn’t anything else he could do until he heard from Crash.
Someone had been on her day and night since Shade had told them she had been hurt. She tracked anyone who had a bounty on their head, and she was good at it, too. She had no concept of danger, though, and that scared the fuck out of him.
Hammer and Jonas were always by her side, but it didn’t relieve his worry. They had fucked up when she had nearly been strangled and raped by Kane. Train didn’t believe in giving second chances where her safety was concerned.
He tiredly went back to his worktable, filling the numerous orders. He had been spending the evenings and nights with Killyama, and switching between working at the factory and keeping an eye on her during the day.
He owed Crash big time. All the brothers had stepped up to take shifts for him on watching her, but it usually fell on Crash to keep an eye or her because most of the computer work he did could be done at night. If the brother kept volunteering when he had to ask for help, Train was going to start paying him.
He had just settled back down at his worktable when Stori handed him a couple of letters and a small package.
“You coming to the dinner tonight? Willa made you a birthday cake.”
“Yes.” Train reached for the box cutter.
Stori hesitated from delivering the rest of the mail, finally telling him, “I plan on making your favorite casserole, but I wanted to make sure you were going to be there before I do.”
He stopped opening the box to give her a friendly grin. “I wouldn’t miss my own birthday party.”
“So, how are you and Killyama doing?”
Train set the box cutter down to give her his full attention. “I’m planning a future with her, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She placed a caressing hand on his arm. “I was just checking. I miss spending time with you.”
Train pulled his arm away. ?
??You can spend time with me at the party tonight. Killyama will be there, too. I want all the women to become friends with her.”
Stori’s mouth drooped in disappointment. “Sure. Well, I better get busy. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay.” Train went back to opening the package.
Looking inside, he pulled out a tool roll. It was made out of a soft, oil-tanned leather that felt like butter in his hands. Unwinding the thin strap from the metal toggle that kept it closed, he unrolled it until it was flat. The pockets had snaps that kept him from seeing inside. He unsnapped each of the pockets, taking out motorcycle tools. Then, carefully placing them back in the pockets and snapping them closed, Train rolled it back up and just stared at the gift.
He had always kept a kit in his saddlebag, but his old one was nowhere near as nice as this one. It would fit perfectly in his saddlebag. He would let Rider or one of the other brothers have the old one if he didn’t need it.
Train looked for where it came from, already knowing he wouldn’t find it. He would get Crash to check out the return address, though he didn’t expect to find anything more this time than he had the last when his wallet had been mailed.
He rubbed the soft leather. It was beautiful and would increase in beauty with age, like Killyama.
Train swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew she had sent them both, but she didn’t want any acknowledgment. If he asked, he knew she would just deny it. Stori wanted credit for everything she did for him, yet Killyama went out her way to keep him in the dark.
With every step he took toward her, he took two steps back. She didn’t even want to admit aloud they were a couple, she avoided any outward signs of affection, and she maintained her space when he was in bed with her at night. The only time he could see what she felt for him was when they had sex, and she always tried to control it for as long as she could. He was never going to understand her until she opened up to him, yet she refused to.
If he asked about her father or her past relationships to try to find out what had made her so closed off emotionally, she would turn her waspish tongue on him. It had become easier to let it ride, hoping she would loosen up when she realized she could trust him.
“Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen,” he muttered to himself as he answered his cell phone.
“Killyama is in a small town in Tennessee. Looks like they are trying to get someone. They’re parked in an alleyway, watching a vacant building across the street.”
Son of a bitch. The woman had promised to tell him when she was going on a hunt. He wouldn’t have let Crash take over for him if he had known she was working.
He was about to disconnect the call when he heard Crash cursing.
“What? What’s going on?”
“It’s cool. They’re taking down an old woman who was going inside the building. They’re taking her to their Escalade now. Looks like she will be making your party tonight, after all,” Crash joked, then started cursing again.
“What?”
“The old bat tried to pull a gun on Killyama when she tried to frisk her. She took it away … Ow, that looks like it hurt—”
“Who got hurt?” Train stood up, knocking his stool into Razer who was working behind him.
“The old woman. Killyama put her hand on the gun’s chamber, and then twisted it out of her hand. From what I can hear, she’s screaming that Killyama broke her thumb.”
Breaking out in cold sweat, Train used his foot to slide his stool back under him. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. She’s still yelling at Killyama.”
“Not the old woman.” Train’s voice rose. He didn’t even notice that the workers had stopped to eavesdrop on the one-sided conservation. “Killyama? Is she okay?”
“Oh, yes, she fine. The old woman is crying, though.”
“Crash, I don’t care about the old woman!”
“Brother, stop yelling at me. She’s helping the old bitch get into the SUV. They’re leaving. I’ll call you back when I know where they’re going next. Later.” The line went dead.
He was going to stra—He was going to yell … Dammit, he wasn’t even going to be able to yell at her because he didn’t want her to know he was watching her. She would be the one strangling him if she found out.
“Trouble?”
Train turned toward Razer who was openly curious. In fact, several of the other workers were waiting attentively for his answer.
“No. Killyama must have caught a fugitive, and she pulled a gun.”
“She pulled a gun on a fugitive? I didn’t know bounty hunters could carry a gun?” Razer’s expression filled with concern.
Train didn’t know if Razer’s concern stemmed from worry of another brother’s woman or Beth’s.
“No, the fugitive pulled one on Killyama,” Train explained, beginning to understand Crash’s predicament of explaining the incident.
“I’m glad she wasn’t hurt.”
“The fugitive or Killyama?” Train tried to joke off the fear he had felt when he had heard a gun had been pulled on her.
She was going to have to find another job. He didn’t give a shit that she worked with Hammer and Jonas. There had to be safer jobs she could do; ones that didn’t involve guns, knives, and old women who wanted to shoot her.
“Killyama wouldn’t have hurt the old woman. That’s her weakness.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, she takes trays of cookies to women living in nursing homes every Christmas. She even sends some to Beth to bring to the one in Treepoint. She also gives Lily coats to give to the elderly women who come to the church store needing them. Killyama told Lily to tell her when she runs out of them so she’d buy some more.”
The woman was beyond unbelievable. She came off as a bitch and a shrew, yet she was so tenderhearted, not wanting elderly women to miss out on Christmas or be cold. Train had been a big believer in actions speaking louder than words, and she was proving him correct.
He didn’t want to change the woman; he just wanted to become a part of her world so she didn’t feel the need to hide that part of herself. She had let Beth and Lily in. He hoped she would let him in, too.
When Crash called again, he said they had taken the old woman to the E.R., and then drove her down to a restaurant where they were now feeding her.
Train shook his head as he went back to work, wondering if Killyama would also take her shopping before jail.
When Jewell walked past his workstation, he asked her if dinner could be an hour later than usual. He wanted Killyama to be there, and with the detours she was making, she was going to be late.
He was getting off work when Killyama texted him to say she was coming, but she would be late. Train tucked his phone away after texting her not to eat dinner, that it had been delayed because they were getting off late.
After showering, he raced to get dressed then went downstairs to hang out with the brothers until Killyama arrived.
Lily and Beth had decorated the dining room with balloons and had set up a table where everyone could place their gifts. The table was mainly filled with liquor from the brothers, and the wrapped ones were from the women. All of the gifts would be inexpensive—free gas cards or free dinners at the local restaurants.
He was looking forward to seeing what Killyama would surprise him with. She knew it was his birthday; that was why he had made a big deal out of her being there. He had even picked out what she would wear tonight.
The leather tool roll had to have been ordered in advance for his birthday. Train wished she would have given it to him in person and let him thank her for it. It was a gift he would treasure, especially knowing it was from her.
He took a bottle of whiskey that Shade had given him off the table, carrying it to the club room. It would stop the complaining from the men about when they were going to eat.
The bottle was empty and Train was about to go get another one when Killyama walked through the door with a pl
ain brown bag in her hand.
“I see a couple of grey hairs I didn’t see last night. You must be getting old.” she teased, giving him the bag.
“Let me know when you see five. I’ll get Sex Piston to dye my hair.” Train pulled out a cheap bottle of whiskey from the bag she had given him.
“I figured I didn’t need to splurge for the expensive stuff when you’re just going to share it with the brothers.” She lifted her brow at the bottle he had just packed from the dining room.
Train shrugged. “It all tastes the same to me. Shade’s the one who likes the expensive brands.” It was true. He would end up drinking the cheaper whiskey and let the brothers enjoy the one Shade had gifted him.
“I’ll have to remember that when it’s his birthday. What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”
Train set the whiskey bottles on the bar then pulled her close. The club was empty except for them.
“Not until you give me my birthday kiss.”
She had taken off the bandana since her scars had healed. Tonight she wore a silver necklace with a sunburst pendant that covered what was left of the thin line. The silver halter made of a mesh and her black flowy pants gave an elegant appearance until you looked closer and realized the top revealed every curve of her breasts. If he wasn’t a gentleman, he would swear he could see her nipples. He had to raise his eyes to hers, afraid he would go blind if he stared too long.
“I gave you a birthday kiss this morning in the shower.” She tried to sneak past him into the kitchen, but Train blocked the doorway.
“You gave me a blowjob; that doesn’t count.”
“I wish I knew that before I gave it. That would have saved me a lot of trouble.”
“You consider giving me a blowjob trouble?”
“Dude, I was sound asleep at six when you woke me up to shower with you. Meaning I was half-asleep and the water was cold; what do you think?”
Train frowned. “Then why didn’t you say something?”
“Duh …” Killyama tapped a finger to his forehead. “Birthday boy, remember?”