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.
“Scared?” she taunted.
“Of you? I don’t get scared.”
Killyama raised her lips to press them against his. Train remained still, not stopping her, but not participating, either.
She pulled back a fraction of an inch to whisper, “Prove it.”