Turning off her bedside lamp, she nuzzled her cat. “Who do you think he’s with tonight? Sasha, Jewell, or both?” The stupid game she played in her mind ripped her to shreds, but she couldn’t help from playing it. The scenarios of what went on in the clubhouse at night played differently every night until she fell asleep. It was a fucked-up way of replacing counting sheep.
Before she had seen Crash and Rider the night she had spent at The Last Riders’ clubhouse, she had imagined Train with only one of the women. Since then, she had begun imagining him with two or three of them a night.
Unable to fall asleep, she reached for the radio on her nightstand, pushing a button on the top. The soothing sound of thunder and rain filled the dark room. She started to count the seconds between the claps of thunder.
She had lied when she told Sex Piston she had ridden Train from her consciousness. There wasn’t going to be any getting over Train. She had instinctively known she would fall in love with him when he had walked across the parking lot the day they had gone for a ride.
She had inherited her mother’s flaw. Only one man had been able to hold her heart. Even in his death, she still mourned him. Though several men had tried to capture the heart that had already been taken, none had succeeded. Her father had made sure of that, secreting her mother away in a small town where no man could live up to the hero worship her mother felt for him.
Train was on the flip side of the same coin. Neither one truly cared about the women in their lives. He would happily share her with any of the men in the club. Hell, probably the women, too.
He was never going to love her. He would only care for her like he did all the women, but there wouldn’t be anything special between them. She bet if the women were grouped in a dark room, none of the men would be able to tell them apart, other than the tits.
Killyama took the thought back. Shade would be able to tell. He watched Lily with a hawk-like intensity. The woman didn’t take a breath before he made sure it was pure enough to enter her body.
Killyama didn’t know if she wanted a man so possessive, but damn, it would be nice to see what it could be like. To feel the warmth of someone’s love battle the frigid emotions that were seeping into her soul.
“I have a better chance of catching Dalton Andrews,” she said out loud to the cat.
Lily had met the movie star when she had visited some friends. He had made the news last year when his wife had succumbed to cancer, leaving him a widower. She would give herself a couple of years to get over Train, and let Dalton Andrews get over the famous fashion model, before she asked Lily if she could hook them up.
“What do you think, Gollum?” She nodded in the dark as if the cat agreed with her ludicrous plan. “I could buy you all kinds of toys if I nabbed him.”
Giving up trying to fall asleep, she turned on a movie that she had watched dozens of times. She was asleep before the first fight scene, tossing and turning as Dalton Andrews and Train fought in her dreams. She could see herself cheering the two men on.
Just as she thought Train was winning, another man grabbed him from behind.
Killyama woke up terrified, gasping in fear. She almost fell out the bed as she searched for her cell phone on the nightstand.
It took five seconds for Sex Piston to answer. “Bitch, do you know what time it is?”
“You don’t sound like you were asleep.” Killyama could hear Stud grumbling in the background, telling Sex Piston to hang up the phone.
“I wasn’t,” she snapped, her voice coming and going as if she were struggling for the phone. “What do you want?”
The terror of her dream was ebbing away like most nightmares do when you wake up. She should have washed her face before she made the call. The shock of the cold water would have saved her from making a fool out of herself.
“Do you need me to come over? Are you okay? Give me time to get dressed—”
“No! I’m fine! I just need you to do something …” Feeling ridiculous, she was also too afraid to go back to sleep until Sex Piston did what she wanted. “Uh … Could you go throw that Ken doll away?”
Silence meant her request.
“Sex Piston?”
“What’d you snort?” The sound of Sex Piston and Stud tussling for the phone stopped.
“Nothing! Just do it. And don’t throw it out in the kitchen trash. Make Stud throw it away outside.”
Again silence.
“Listen, I know it’s crazy as fuck, but just do it, okay?”
Sex Piston’s long drawled out “Okay” had Killyama gritting her teeth.
“Thank you. Tell Stud I’m sorry for bothering him.”
“I will. You know I’m never letting you play with Star’s dolls again, right?”
“Believe me; I won’t be going near them.” Killyama started to disconnect the call. “Sex Piston!”
“What!”
Killyama winced. Sex Piston had cruised past concern for her friend’s mental state and had moved on to aggravation.
“Make sure you don’t forget the head.”
19