“Well, I do. And Crazy Bitch always brings a six-pack of beer when she makes me cruise around with her and T.A.”
Train’s smile slipped. “Where do you cruise?”
“Around Jamestown … after the high school has a basketball game.”
“Do you ever stop when they want you to pull over?”
“Fuck no. We just like to piss off the high school girls.”
Train released the beer cozy. “I can share. I’ll use it for when I go fishing or hunting, and you can have it until basketball season is over.”
“That works for me. I’ll take it home with me. You don’t have enough space in your room to keep it, anyway. Let me know when you need it, and I’ll let you borrow it.”
She slipped off her high heels, and then slipped her pants down her legs, showing him the birthday thong she had bought for him. Leaving the top on he had asked her to wear, she stepped between his leg, bringing her hands to his belt buckle.
“You need some help getting out of those jeans?”
He stopped her from unbuckling his belt. “Depends. Are we going to have a custody dispute over my belt buckle?”
She suggestively dropped to her knees. “No, I’m going to let you keep it.” She started to slowly remove the belt. “It says The Last Riders, not the Destructors.” Once his jeans were open, she licked a path from the blue jean snap down to where the zipper began. “You taste like birthday cake.”
Train ran his fingers through her hair, using it to tilt her head back. “I love you.”
She burrowed her face into his thigh, despite his restraining hand, not looking up. “You’re on a sugar high.”
“The only high I’m on tonight is you.”
“Lover, I’m trying to give you the best birthday blowjob you’ve ever had. Don’t ruin it.”
“No blowjob is going to beat the present I got earlier today.” His husky voice had her lifting her head.
“What was it? A pillowcase with a pair of tits stenciled on it?”
“Do they make those?”
“Lover, you can make anything, if you want it bad enough. If it wasn’t that, what was it?”
“Someone sent me a bike roll of tools.”
“Who gave it to you?” She reached into the front of his jeans to pull out his cock.
“I don’t know. I like it almost as much as the wallet someone sent me a few months ago.”
She flicked her tongue over the head of his cock. “The one with the long chain?”
“Yes …” Train groaned, not taking his eyes off her. “I thought maybe you sent them.”
She shook her head as she rubbed her lips over him, blowing on the spot after she had licked him, which caused Train to straighten, his hip jutting forward as his hands went behind his back to lean against the desk.
“You think I have a diamond mine in my thong? I didn’t send them. I don’t give presents like that. They cost too much,” she added.
Presents like that were like giving a part of your soul to the one receiving it.
“Are we done jabbering?” She looked up at him. “I want to end your birthday with a bang.”
30
Train opened his blurry eyes, barely dodging the swinging kitchen door he had just pushed open.
“Have you seen…?” He cut himself off, his grouchy mood mildly improving.
Going to the coffee pot, he poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting down next to Killyama at the kitchen table.
“Why didn’t you wake me up? I could have eaten with you.”
She finished a bite of her toast before she answered him. “I was going to bring you a plate in bed.”
His sour disposition vanished in a second. “Damn, I wish I had known.”
“Sorry about your luck. You want me to make you a plate?” She didn’t look anxious to get up, buttering another piece of toast.
“No, I’ll do it. Thanks, anyway.”
“No problem.” She shrugged, eating her toast.
Train was fixing himself a plate when he realized they were alone.
“Who cooked breakfast?”
“Dude, do you see anyone here but me and you?” Indignant, she got up to pour herself another glass of orange juice.
He shook his head. “No, I’m just surprised.”
“Why, that I cook or that I beat the other bitches out of bed?”
“Both, I suppose. You even made pancakes.” He placed a stack on his plate, smothering it in butter and syrup. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was still my birthday.”
“Hell no. I don’t have time for another present. I’m meeting T.A. in an hour.”
Train sat down to dig into his pancakes. He wished he had taken the time to heat up the syrup, then they would have been perfect.
Train cut off another bite of his pancakes. “You could borrow a T-shirt from me. Or, if you had woken me up, I could have borrowed some clothes for you to wear.”
“Why wake anyone else up? Doesn’t my outfit look as good this morning as it did last night?”
“Yes, but it must have been hard to cook in it,” he tried explaining.
Her acerbic reply had him wishing he had just kept his mouth shut.