Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134788 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134788 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“I was dreading coming here tonight. If you hadn’t invited Sex Piston, I don’t know if I would have,” she confessed, still staring down at her toes. She could walk into a room stark naked and not feel embarrassed, but exposing herself emotionally was almost impossible for her.
“Why?”
“I know the club hates me after what went down with Sasha. I don’t want you to have to pick between me and your friends any more than you want me to have to choose between you and my friends.”
“Look at me.” Train’s commanding voice had her raising her eyes. “None of the brothers or the women hate you. Sasha told us how you had one of the guards watch out for her, and she’s had her charges dropped. If we hadn’t been forced to act, she would still be running from the law. So it’s all good, okay?”
“Okay.” She made sure to keep her eyes steady when he mentioned being forced to act, feeling relieved that Shade had kept his word about her involvement in getting Sasha’s charges dropped. “How about you get me a shot of tequila, and I’ll find us a place to sit?”
“I can do that.” He brushed his knuckles over the globes of her breasts. “Did I tell you I like your top? Leather suits you.”
She turned so he could get a look at her ass in the tight leather pants. “I was wondering when you were going to say something. A woman likes to be appreciated when she dresses up for her man.”
The desire blazing in his eyes was better than any words he could use to compliment her.
“So, you’re admitting I’m your man?”
“I guess I am.”
Train frowned. “Damn.”
“What?” she asked, instead of angrily drilling one of her heels into his foot. If he didn’t want to be her man, he could go …
“I told Mick I didn’t have a woman. You made a liar out of me.”
As satisfied as Gollum with a can of tuna, she strutted away from him, calling out, “Don’t forget my tequila.”
She was so busy strutting she accidently bumped into a woman who was going toward the same couch.
“Sorry, my bad,” Killyama apologized to the gorgeous redhead next to Cash.
“It was my fault. I was admiring your top.” Rachel’s friendly flattery would normally have her returning the compliment with one of her own, or thanking her. Before she could do either, Rachel’s face turned blood red and she changed directions toward the bar with a surprised Cash following.
Killyama searched her memories to remember if she had insulted the woman before. If what Train had said was true about The Last Riders not holding a grudge against her, Rachel’s behavior was inexplicable.
Shrugging, she went to the couch. Stud stood up to let her have his seat, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Sex Piston. Shade had taken the chair in front of it, with Lily on his lap. Evie was standing next to them, talking to Lily. When she saw her taking a seat, she gave her a smile before saying she was going to find King.
“Do I stink or something?” Killyama lowered her voice so Shade and Stud wouldn’t hear her embarrassing question.
Sex Piston inconspicuously sniffed. “No, why?” she answered from out of the corner of her mouth as she lifted her beer to disguise their conversation.
“Rachel and Evie took off like their tails were on fire. Evie, I can understand, but I never laid a hand on Rachel.”
“Maybe you’re imagining it?”
“Maybe.” She shifted away from Sex Piston as Train managed to find room to sit down next to her.
“You’re a little close, aren’t you?” Killyama wiggled on the couch cushions, managing to give herself breathing room and regretting cinching the corset so tightly.
“I like being close to you. If you don’t have enough room, you could sit on my lap.”
“Never mind. I’m good.” Sex Piston had said she didn’t smell, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
She tried to remember what she had eaten that night. Maybe she should go to her car and grab the pack of gum she always kept stashed there.
She was sidetracked when Stud and Train started talking about his new bike.
“Have you decided what color you want to paint it?”
Train turned toward her. “What do you think?”
“Black,” she answered without thinking.
“Can’t be black. That’s Stud’s bike’s color.”
“Why does that matter?”
“When I race him again, it’ll be easier for you to see which one of us is in the lead.”
Stud laughed. “Should I be worried?”
“Yes.” Train placed a possessive hand on her thigh. “It’s hard for a man to see his woman rooting for another man, even if you like him.”
“Can’t say I blame you. It’s why I started racing again. Sex Piston didn’t give me the time of day until she saw one of my races.”