The close confines made it hard to struggle out of her tight pants, yet she managed while Train raised himself enough to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans to slide on a condom. Then, using his hips, he brushed the tip of his cock across the lips of her pussy.
Having sex with him was like riding a motorcycle at high speeds—you didn’t know if you were going to reach the end or crash and burn. The searing heat of his entry scored her to her soul. She had expected him to fuck her in a heated rush. Instead, he started pinching and kneading her breasts. The pleasure had her squirming as he continued to thrust into her.
Killyama wasn’t a small woman, but he made her feel petite as she was overwhelmed by the strength of the muscular body surrounding her. She was torn between fear and excitement. The sex she had initiated wasn’t supposed to feel this good. It hadn’t ever before. Then she realized that it was Train who was making the difference.
He wasn’t only taking; he was giving her the pleasure that many were incapable of. He wanted her to enjoy it as much him. He was taking her on a ride that she never wanted to end.
Dropping the last of her guards, she rocked her hips back and forth, fucking him back as she sucked in a deep breath to inhale the musky scent they had created in the confines of the car.
When Train lifted her hips up to drive higher, her slick pussy gripped his cock, trying to keep up the furious pace he had set. Then, when he stroked his tongue on the tip of her nipple, she dug her fingernails into his back, unconsciously raking deep scratches into his flesh.
“Easy, firecracker.”
Killyama pushed his mouth away from her nipple. “Don’t call me no fucking nickname you’ve called another woman.”
Train stopped moving. “I’ve never called anyone that before. If you want me to call you something else, then tell me your real name. I’m not calling you Killyama when I fuck you.”
She almost told him to get off her right then, but the snug fit of his cock inside of her stopped her. Her mama hadn’t raised no idiot. The second lesson every woman needed to learn was when to give in.
“You can call me Killy.”
“I can deal with that.” Train started moving again.
Her pussy gripped his cock tighter, trying to prolong the ecstasy that was rapidly building into the orgasm that he was so damn determined to give her.
Killyama shuddered as she came, and Train grimaced as she felt him throbbing inside of her. The shared orgasm made her self-conscious, especially when he moved to the side and hooked an arm under her neck.
“We’re supposed to be all cozy now?” Her usual sting was missing from her words.
Train’s lips twitched. “I take it you’re not feeling a post-orgasmic glow?”
She laughed. “I need a cigarette for that.”
“Sorry, but I don’t have one handy.”
“Damn, I need it. I haven’t had sex since I stopped smoking.”
“How long since you stopped?”
“A year ago.”
Train sat up, folding her legs over his lap. Then he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a joint. “Will this do?”
“You have a lighter?”
He handed it to her.
“How did you join The Last Riders?” Killyama asked as they sat, smoking the joint.
“I was friends with Viper’s brother Gavin in the Navy. We trained as pilots together. It was his dream to form an MC when we got out.”
“I’m sorry. Beth told me about Gavin when her and Razer broke up. She told us that another club member killed him.”
“Memphis.”
“I’d kill someone who betrayed a friend of mine like that.” She stared at his cold expression through the smoky haze.
Train took the joint away from her, taking a hit. “How’d you meet Sex Piston and your other friends?”
“Middle school. We’ve been friends ever since.”
“They the ones who came up with Killyama?”
“What? You don’t like it?”
He shrugged. “It’s different.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “My mother did.”
“Your mother?” Train laughed.
“Yep. Every time I got in trouble, she always said I was killing her.”
“Jesus, you’re killing me.”
“See? It’s contagious.”
“I can imagine you driving her crazy. I bet you turned her grey trying to keep up with you and your friends.”
“Nope. She had me when she was seventeen. My mama doesn’t have a grey hair yet. If she does, Sex Piston would have told me.”
“Your mother is living?”
“Yes. Yours?”
“No, both of my parents are dead.” Train licked his fingertips before putting out the joint. “I better get going before Rider comes out looking for me.”
She didn’t want to see him go. Hoping to convince him to stay a little longer, she trailed a finger down his chest to the V of his jeans, which he had zipped up but hadn’t buttoned. “You sure you don’t want another round? I’m better the second time around.”