Train's Clash (The Last Riders Book 9)

  Train’s frown vanished, a smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, I’ll let you give me a kiss later.”

  She stopped him before he could go through the kitchen door. Putting her hands on his cheeks, she gave him an inviting kiss that had him wanting to miss dinner.

  “How hungry are you? We could get something later.”

  She struggled out of his arms. “That’s why I didn’t want to kiss you—you have a one-track mind.”

  “Believe me; I have two or three things on mind right now.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve Rider, I’m game,” she taunted, pushing the kitchen door open.

  Train let her escape. She was going to need her strength for what he had planned for tonight.

  They made their plates in the kitchen where Stori and Jewell had set a dinner buffet. Then they carried them into the dining room.

  Train sat at the end of the table where Lily told him to sit, and Killyama sat down next to him with Lily and Shade sitting on his other side. Beth and Razer were on Killyama’s other side. The two women started talking immediately to her while Train ate, watching her reaction to them.

  She asked who they had suckered into babysitting for them, and they laughingly said Bliss, Darcy, and Drake. Then she sat quietly as she ate, listening as they recounted how excited the boys were that they were going to eat out at the diner.

  The longer Train listened, the more he understood it was deeply engrained in her personality to not draw notice to herself. She would respond to them when they talked to her, but she never said anything that would turn the conversation toward her. When he thought about it, he realized she would make a cutting comment or insult someone only if she wanted to be noticed.

  In some point in her life, she had to have been taught how to be a shadow of herself. The times she couldn’t handle being invisible, she struck out. Train didn’t think it was her mother, or Hammer and Jonas. They had been the ones who had taught her to strike back. That left only one person. The man Killyama refused to name: her father.

  29

  Killyama stared at the plate of food, cutting a piece of the delicious pork chop surrounded by potatoes and cheese. She would have to ask Beth for the recipe. Hammer and Jonas loved meat and potato dishes.

  She finished her plate, refusing Train’s offer to get her seconds.

  “I’ll have to go to the gym tomorrow to work off what I’ve already eaten.”

  “You can eat another plate. I plan to work it off you tonight.”

  “You eat another plate as big as the one you just ate, you won’t be able to walk up those steps, much less fuck me when you get there.”

  She rolled her eyes at Lily’s and Beth’s flushed faces. Bitches acted like they had on chastity belts under their dresses.

  Shade and Razer trailed after Train to refill their plates.

  “They eat any more of that casserole, I won’t be the only one not getting laid tonight.” She stared down at the women’s only partially eaten dinner. Neither of them had put the best part of the dinner on their plates. “Are you two sick or something? You didn’t eat much. You should have tried that casserole …”

  Beth cut her green beans into tiny dots. “We’ve eaten it before.”

  “It’s a little heavy on my stomach,” Lily explained.

  “Mine, too. Thank God I didn’t wear my leather pants tonight. The ones I’m wearing have elastic. I saved room for the cake Willa made for Train. Before I forget, can you text me that recipe for the casserole? Hammer and Jonas will eat that shit up …”

  A light finally went on over her head when she saw the secretive look the two sisters shared.

  “If you don’t—”

  “That’s not it,” Beth hastened to stop her.

  “Then what is it?” She narrowed her eyes at them.

  “It’s the men’s favorite dish, especially Train’s.”

  “Which bitch makes it? Or do all the women make it for them?”

  “Stori, and don’t bother asking her for the recipe. She won’t give it out. I even tried to make it several times from recipes I found on the web. Razer says it’s good, but even I can tell it doesn’t taste the same.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. Saves you from making dinner when she cooks it.” She gave them a speculative look. “It doesn’t look like it bothers you when Razer and Shade scarf down that candy Willa makes.”

  “Stori isn’t Willa. And Willa gave us her recipe. She even helped us make it the first couple of times.”

  She stared at the women, shocked. Beth and Lily weren’t like her. They were nice. She could even see Rachel, who was sitting further down, was agreeing with them.

  “I thought you would be mad about it, too. Train usually drools over her when she makes it for him.”

  Killyama shrugged. “I don’t worry about what other women put on a plate to give my man. It’s under the covers I worry about. You bitches are just being sensitive.”

  “I told Beth that.” Lily avoided Beth’s glare.

  “Then why don’t you go get some, then?” Beth challenged.

  “I’m full.”

  The women started talking about the church store when the men came back. Killyama noticed that Train had filled another plate with an even bigger helping of the casserole. She then saw Beth, Lily, and Rachel look at their men’s full plates when they sat down.

  She saw Stori take a seat at the other end of the table, talking animatedly with Viper. Winter, who was sitting next to him, didn’t seem any happier than the other women at the table.

  “I’ll be right back. That looks too good to resist,” she told Train as she got up.

  He grinned up at her. “I told you. You’ll be lucky if there is any left.”

  “Then I’ll swipe some of yours,” she said as she made her way into the kitchen.

  He was right; there wasn’t any left. Dishing the spoonful that was left, she went back to the dining room, stopping by Stori’s chair.

  The woman glanced up and saw her standing by her side.

  “You make the casserole?”

  Stori’s fork paused by her mouth as she nodded.

  “It’s delicioso.”

  She lowered her fork to her plate. “What …? Thank you?”

  “Train is teaching me French. I thought I’d throw that word out there. That casserole is so good it deserves the effort.”

  Stori beamed. “Thank you. Next time I make it, I’ll make sure to save you some extra for later, like I do for Train. But, I think delicioso is Spanish.”

  “Whatever.” Killyama shrugged. “It’s still good. Do me a favor, text me that recipe. Sex Piston and Stud will love it. I’m going to call her tonight so she can get the ingredients.”

  “Uh … I don’t …” She stopped, fear flashing across her face as Killyama’s shrewd gaze captured hers. “I can do that,” she finally said with a nod.

  “Thanks. You have your phone handy? I’ll give you my number.”

  “Sure.”

  Killyama left the defeated bitch after rattling off her number with a last parting shot. “And don’t forget any ingredients. Sex Piston gets pissed when a recipe doesn’t come out the way she expects it to.”

  Train shook his head at the minuscule portion on her plate when she sat back down. “I told you there wasn’t much left. Shade always eats as much as I do.”

  Lily stood jerkily to her feet. “Are you ready to cut your cake?”

  “I’ve been ready.” Train patted his flat belly.

  Killyama watched him get up and move to stand by the cake where Willa was waiting. She laughed with the others at the table at the raucous birthday song Viper had started as Train cut into the first slice. Then he let Willa and Lily serve the others.

  The loud cheers and claps slowed as Train started opening his presents one at a time, thanking the brothers for the liquor.

  The gifts were a mixture of useful, off-the-wall items meant for enjoyment. Jewell had given him new motorcycle gloves, L
ily had given him a gift certificate to the diner, and Evie and King had gotten him a gift certificate for a steak dinner.

  “I hope those certificates are for two,” Killyama joked to Beth.

  Viper had gotten him a card he had printed off the computer for a week off anytime he wanted it. Beth and Razer had gotten him a mini beer pong set. Rachel and Cash had gifted him a fishing knife. And Knox and Diamond had given him a police scanner. She enjoyed watching Train open his gifts. After opening each one, he would thank each brother with a man hug, and a kiss on the cheek for the women.

  He then opened the last one, a present that had been obscured from view by cake.

  Reading Stori’s name aloud from the small card that was attached to the present, he tore it open. His face said it all. He liked it a lot.

  He raised it up so the room could see the silver skull and crossbones belt buckle. The upper teeth were set on top of the metal of the buckle, with the lower jaw missing. From each side of the skull was a metal bone that had engraved words that together said The Last Riders.

  Train took off his belt and put it on, and then wrapped the belt around his lean waist again.

  The men stared at it enviously. Rider and Razer were both asking Stori where she had bought it from.

  “You like it?” Stori got out of her chair as Train approached her.

  “I love it. Thank you.” He lifted her off her feet, giving her a bear hug.

  Killyama watched as several women glanced her way while she thanked Lily for giving her a slice of cake, eating it without concern.

  Train came back to where she was sitting, carrying the large slice he had cut himself. The men sitting around them complimented him on his gifts.

  “You gonna share that steak dinner with me? I don’t have anything to do tomorrow night,” Moon shouted out from beside Winter.

  “Depends on when Killyama wants to go.” Train winked, eating his cake.

  “She going to share that massage Sasha promised you when she comes over next week—” Crash howled when Willa slammed his piece of cake down onto his hand.

  “No, I gave that to Rider.”

  “Why not me? I’m the one who … Fuck, that hurt. Willa, you could have just handed me the damn fork.”

  “Brother, it might be safer for you to eat your cake in the kitchen.”

  Killyama couldn’t see Lucky, but his stoic threat had Crash leaving the table with his dessert.

  Crash’s comment hadn’t upset her. She was used to men teasing each other. She didn’t expect Train to watch every comment he made around her.

  “You better insure that belt buckle. Some of the brothers look like they are eyeing it.”

  Train tilted his head to the side, studying her. “The brothers always ask before they borrow anything.”

  “You lend anyone that belt buckle, you won’t get it back.”

  Train took a bite of his cake. The intensity of how he was watching her made her curious.

  “It doesn’t bother you that Stori gave it to me?” he finally asked.

  “The only thing I’m jealous about is how much better that belt buckle would look on me,” she answered candidly.

  No matter how good or expensive a present was, it wouldn’t make a person care about the person giving it. A big diamond might get you a piece of tail, but when a woman walked out the door, she was taking the ring and leaving the husband behind. That was why she couldn’t understand why the women were upset over the men complimenting Stori on her dish. A woman could prepare a four course meal, and their man would still slip a donut when she wasn’t looking. If she was going to get jealous over her man, it was going to be because of something big, like Train finding happiness with the massage Sasha had offered.

  “You want me to help you carry some shit upstairs?” she asked as they placed their plates in the kitchen sink.

  “Can I trust you?” he teased as he went toward the dining room where the cake was all but demolished with only a fourth left, which Willa was carving into smaller pieces.

  “Of course. I mean, you’re wearing the one I want.” She picked up the six-pack cooler and the beer pong set, careful not to break the shot glasses that had titties stenciled on them. What the man didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. She was just as envious of some of his gifts as the brothers were.

  In his bedroom, he had to search for a place to set his gifts down. She found a spot for the beer pong on a wall shelf.

  “Where do you want me to put this?”

  Train set most of his things on his desk before reaching out to take the cozy cooler from her. She curled a finger through the opening, refusing to give it up.

  “Did I ever tell you I hate to drink hot beer?”

  Train laughed, leaning his hip against his desk. “No, you haven’t.”

  “Well, I do. And Crazy Bitch always brings a six-pack of beer when she makes me cruise around with her and T.A.”

  Train’s smile slipped. “Where do you cruise?”

  “Around Jamestown … after the high school has a basketball game.”

  “Do you ever stop when they want you to pull over?”

  “Fuck no. We just like to piss off the high school girls.”

  Train released the beer cozy. “I can share. I’ll use it for when I go fishing or hunting, and you can have it until basketball season is over.”

  “That works for me. I’ll take it home with me. You don’t have enough space in your room to keep it, anyway. Let me know when you need it, and I’ll let you borrow it.”

  She slipped off her high heels, and then slipped her pants down her legs, showing him the birthday thong she had bought for him. Leaving the top on he had asked her to wear, she stepped between his leg, bringing her hands to his belt buckle.

  “You need some help getting out of those jeans?”

  He stopped her from unbuckling his belt. “Depends. Are we going to have a custody dispute over my belt buckle?”

  She suggestively dropped to her knees. “No, I’m going to let you keep it.” She started to slowly remove the belt. “It says The Last Riders, not the Destructors.” Once his jeans were open, she licked a path from the blue jean snap down to where the zipper began. “You taste like birthday cake.”

  Train ran his fingers through her hair, using it to tilt her head back. “I love you.”

  She burrowed her face into his thigh, despite his restraining hand, not looking up. “You’re on a sugar high.”

  “The only high I’m on tonight is you.”

  “Lover, I’m trying to give you the best birthday blowjob you’ve ever had. Don’t ruin it.”

  “No blowjob is going to beat the present I got earlier today.” His husky voice had her lifting her head.

  “What was it? A pillowcase with a pair of tits stenciled on it?”

  “Do they make those?”

  “Lover, you can make anything, if you want it bad enough. If it wasn’t that, what was it?”

  “Someone sent me a bike roll of tools.”

  “Who gave it to you?” She reached into the front of his jeans to pull out his cock.

  “I don’t know. I like it almost as much as the wallet someone sent me a few months ago.”

  She flicked her tongue over the head of his cock. “The one with the long chain?”

  “Yes …” Train groaned, not taking his eyes off her. “I thought maybe you sent them.”

  She shook her head as she rubbed her lips over him, blowing on the spot after she had licked him, which caused Train to straighten, his hip jutting forward as his hands went behind his back to lean against the desk.

  “You think I have a diamond mine in my thong? I didn’t send them. I don’t give presents like that. They cost too much,” she added.

  Presents like that were like giving a part of your soul to the one receiving it.

  “Are we done jabbering?” She looked up at him. “I want to end your birthday with a bang.”

  30

  Train opened his blurry eyes, bar
ely dodging the swinging kitchen door he had just pushed open.

  “Have you seen…?” He cut himself off, his grouchy mood mildly improving.

  Going to the coffee pot, he poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting down next to Killyama at the kitchen table.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up? I could have eaten with you.”

  She finished a bite of her toast before she answered him. “I was going to bring you a plate in bed.”

  His sour disposition vanished in a second. “Damn, I wish I had known.”

  “Sorry about your luck. You want me to make you a plate?” She didn’t look anxious to get up, buttering another piece of toast.

  “No, I’ll do it. Thanks, anyway.”

  “No problem.” She shrugged, eating her toast.

  Train was fixing himself a plate when he realized they were alone.

  “Who cooked breakfast?”

  “Dude, do you see anyone here but me and you?” Indignant, she got up to pour herself another glass of orange juice.

  He shook his head. “No, I’m just surprised.”

  “Why, that I cook or that I beat the other bitches out of bed?”

  “Both, I suppose. You even made pancakes.” He placed a stack on his plate, smothering it in butter and syrup. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was still my birthday.”

  “Hell no. I don’t have time for another present. I’m meeting T.A. in an hour.”

  Train sat down to dig into his pancakes. He wished he had taken the time to heat up the syrup, then they would have been perfect.

  Train cut off another bite of his pancakes. “You could borrow a T-shirt from me. Or, if you had woken me up, I could have borrowed some clothes for you to wear.”

  “Why wake anyone else up? Doesn’t my outfit look as good this morning as it did last night?”

  “Yes, but it must have been hard to cook in it,” he tried explaining.

  Her acerbic reply had him wishing he had just kept his mouth shut.

  “A woman always suffers when she tries to do something nice for her man and he doesn’t appreciate it.”

  He stopped talking, giving his food all of his attention.