He didn’t lift his eyes from the pictures. “I’d have to agree.” Train lifted the album higher when Killyama tried to snatch it away again. “You played the flute?” Train turned his head to the side to see her mortified reaction.
“Keep laughing, and I’ll shove it up your—”
“Killyama …” Peyton tapped her daughter’s hand where it lay on her thigh as Killyama braced herself to try to take the book away from him. “Train’s our guest, and I raised you to be a lady … Or, I tried to.”
Killyama’s ass obediently hit the floor, but she scooted farther away from her mother’s reprimanding hand.
“I don’t know why you get so embarrassed about those pictures. She was a very good flute player. When she was in sixth grade, her middle school band was asked to play for the president’s inauguration. It made the local papers in Jamestown, and one of the news stations in Lexington even covered it. Everyone in town was so proud of them. I was, too. Let me see if I can find the tape of when I recorded it.”
“I threw it away.” Killyama scooted even farther away from her mother until she was sitting next to Jonas’s legs.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because the tape broke.”
“But—”
“I would have liked to see it. It’s a shame you don’t have it anymore. I would have loved to hear you blow your flute.” Train’s amusement set a match to Killyama’s temper.
“Wait here, fuckwad. I have it in my old bedroom. I still remember how to play the funeral march.”
“You’re killing me!” Peyton yelled. “One more vulgar word out of that mouth of yours, and I’m going to wash it out with soap.”
“So that’s why you nicknamed her Killyama …” Train had managed to stop Killyama from taking the book from him; however, Hammer, seeing how furious she was becoming, took it and gave it to her.
“Killyama was such a sweet baby. She was so precious when she was little. Then she grew up.”
“Mom!”
“What? Why are you getting so upset? I didn’t tell him …” Peyton broke off when Killyama got off the floor.
Train caught her hand as she tried to pass him. “Where are you going?”
“To get the soap.”
22
“You sure I can’t give you a ride home?”
Killyama wrapped her arm around the post on her mother’s porch, trying to keep herself rooted to the spot. She was tempted to go with him, despite her promise to Sex Piston not to fuck him.
“Mama likes it when I spend the night with her. She’ll be upset if I don’t stay.”
“We could go for a drive, and I could bring you back?”
She shook her head at his suggestion. “We both know I won’t come back until morning.”
Hammer and Jonas had just reluctantly left, leaving them alone. She should have gone back inside before they had left, but she wanted to spend a little time alone with him, thinking she could control the situation with her mother on the other side of the trailer’s thin, metal walls. She told herself she would be able to keep her panties on in the short time she would walk him to his truck. Staring into his eyes, though, she was beginning to doubt her decision.
He took her free hand, tugging her down the steps. Then he lifted her into his arms when she reached the last step.
“This isn’t a good idea.”
“Why?” His sultry expression as he stared down at her was one he would give any bitch in his clubhouse. It wasn’t going to be easy not to at least take a dip in what he was offering.
Train was a sexy man, and he knew it. He knew he was attractive to the opposite sex. Hell, to half the male population, too.
All she wanted from him was to make her feel as if they were on a level playing field. She wasn’t going to stop until he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
“Because I’m not going to fuck you.” Her staunch declaration didn’t faze him.
Her panties might be getting damp, but Train hadn’t worked up to category five blue balls yet. Damn, he might have been at a D1, which was a little twitch, but she was going for level five blow-your-fucking-balls-off-to-get-relief. Maybe spending the day with her mother wasn’t the best idea for the level of devastation she was hoping to accomplish.
Train put his foot on the running board of the truck, sticking one of his hands in his back pocket that sent a metal chain swinging to the top of his thigh.
She lifted her eyes from the dancing silver chain to his, seeing the sensual curl of his lips.
“I …” Killyama lost her train of thought as she imagined sucking that bottom lip into her mouth. “You said you like spending time with me. Your wish came true today. You spent the whole day with me. The night wasn’t part of the deal.”
“I see. What about we hang out at your club—dancing, drinking a few beers—and then we spend the night together?”
“How about we do the half part and leave the rest of the night up to we’ll see?”
Train buried his face in the fold of her bandana. She was about to push him away, but he forestalled her by gently placing a kiss on her chin then her lips before pulling away. She had to step back as he swung the truck door open.