Train's Clash
Page 8

“Deal.” Killyama shut the car door.
Train led the way to his bike, where she swung one leg over the seat after he did the same, snuggling close him. He shot her a look over his shoulder before turning on the motor, and then she hung on as he shot out onto the road.
Killyama was willing to admit she might have bitten off more than she could chew. When he had offered the ride, he hadn’t appeared mad. However, the look he had given her from over his shoulder showed how angry he was about the insult she had thrown down. Her mama hadn’t raised an idiot, but her pride wouldn’t let her back down. Instead, she held him tighter.
The trepidation vanished within half a mile. She loved riding on a motorcycle. She had her own, but when she rode by herself, she had to be careful, watching the road and the assholes who didn’t want to share it. With Train driving, all she had to do was enjoy.
Loosening her hold when everyone was out of sight, she held him by his belt. Killyama had ridden motorcycles long enough to know that he was good. Better than good. He handled the curvy roads like a pro, slowing down for the curves then accelerating as they turned a corner. The bike glided over the pavement smoothly.
His motorcycle was sick. It made hers feel like a bicycle.
Her adrenaline pumping, she tightened her thighs around Train’s waist before lowering her mouth to his ear so he could hear her over the sound of the motor. “Let me drive!”
She couldn’t hear his answer, but the shaking of his head wasn’t hard to understand.
Seeing a straight stretch of road, she loosened her thighs to raise herself off the seat. Using her long legs, she tried to slide around to the front of him.
“Are you trying to get us killed!”
Train’s shout didn’t stop her. She found herself sitting in front of him, but it wasn’t in the position she had wanted. He had taken one of his hands off the handlebars, jerking her so she straddled him, her breasts pressing against his chest.
Unable to prevent his gaze from catching hers, she looked down at his tanned throat. His neck muscles were clenched in anger as he slowed the bike down, pulling the motorcycle to a stop on the side of the road.
“Are you fucking crazy?” His eyes burned with fury, his voice deadly low.
She obstinately shouted at him, “You could have let me drive!”
“No one drives my bike but me. Get off. Now.”
She got off the bike. Then, instead of giving her time to get behind him again, he began pushing his motorcycle backward so he could make a U-turn.
“You’re going to leave me here?”
Train didn’t reply. He simply pulled back onto the road to leave her choking on his dust.
Gaping after him, she couldn’t believe he had left her. Even as she started walking, she kept thinking he would be waiting around the corner. When he wasn’t there, she then thought he would be around the next one. When her high-heeled boots were beginning to rub her heels raw, she was forced to admit the son of a bitch was forcing her to walk back to The Last Riders’ clubhouse.
“You son of a bitch! I’m going to kick your ass when I get there!” She began screaming every profanity she could think of to take her mind off the pain in her feet. “Your fucking bike better not be where can I get my hands on it!” she threatened in the silence of the empty mountainside.
She had no idea how far she had walked before she saw him on the side of the road, waiting.
“You fucking bastard!” Killyama yelled as she drew closer.
With that comment, she was left eating his dust again.
She tried to run after him but was forced to stop when she fell on the roadside gravel, where it took several minutes to choke back the fury and tears clogging her throat. Then, firming her lips, she shakily got to her feet. There wasn’t a man alive who could make her cry.
It took five minutes of agony before she saw him again. She wanted to stubbornly walk past him, yet her pride had taken enough of a beating. Therefore, she gingerly climbed on behind him, not trusting him not to leave her sitting in the dirt again. She promised herself she would kill him when he dropped her off at her car.
As soon as her ass was on the motorcycle seat, he took off. Angry, she wanted to rip his head off. The carefree abandonment that she had begun the ride with was gone. Now she had no problem keeping her hands to herself until he brought them to a stop in the parking lot where her nightmare ride had begun.
Fuming, she didn’t spare him a glance as she got of his bike before limping toward her car. Instead of opening the driver’s side door, she opened the back one, reaching inside for the bat she always kept there.
Her hand was around the handle when she was pushed from behind, falling forward, her face planted into the backseat. She turned her head to see Train standing over her in the door, one arm braced on the car door, the other one on the roof, blocking her exit.
“Settle down before you hurt yourself.”
His calm voice had the opposite effect he had intended, fueling her temper higher.
“The only one who is going to get hurt is you! You left me with a sprained ankle in the fucking mountains!” She flipped onto her back, lifting her foot to wave it in his face.
“Let me see.” Train’s frown of concern was too little, too late.
When he leaned down to see her ankle, she used her good foot to kick out at him, nailing him in the balls. With a hiss, he fell forward, pinning her underneath him.
Killyama took advantage, slamming her hands into his back and using her teeth to bite his shoulder.
“Bitch, let go.”
When she didn’t, she felt his teeth sink into her own shoulder.
Releasing his flesh, she stopped struggling so he would stop biting her.
Train looked up at her. “You’ve got a hell of a temper.”
“Get off me!”
“You going to hit me again?”
“I’m going to wrap that bat around your fucking head!”
“Why are you so mad at me? I’m the one you practically made roadkill. Besides, you could have called Beth or one of your friends to come and pick you up.”
“Beth was having dinner, and so were my friends when I called.”
“You told them you were stranded and none of them wanted to leave to pick you up?”
Surprised, she lifted her brows in confusion. His voice had never risen when she had almost made him crash, or when she had cussed him out. He hadn’t even lost his cool when she had nailed him in the balls. Yet, it had taken him to think her friends had ignored a plea for help to get a rise out of him?
“I didn’t tell them I was stranded. When they told me what they were doing, I told them I would call them later.”
“That was a dumbass move.”
“Why? Because I didn’t want to disturb their dinner? I can take care of myself.”
The fight had left her. Exhausted from the long walk and the fight with Train, she sank into the seat. That was when she noticed he had been stroking the pounding pulse at the base of her throat.
The sensuous touch of his fingers against her flesh had her sucking in a deep breath. His eyes grew even darker, and the shadow of his beard on his chiseled jaw gave the appearance of an outlaw who took what he wanted.
She reached out to twine her arms around his shoulders, her lips twisting up into a sardonic smile when he flinched.