All That Matters (36 page)

“Maybe you should have asked me.” Train cut her off. “You've got it wrong, Meg. You didn't do those things because you wanted to, they don't count. I'm not holding them against you. And I'm not trying to treat you any different.”

“Well, you are.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And I don't want to live our lives like that.”

“Fine. Take off your fucking clothes, now.” Train took a step back. “I want to see you.” He wasn't sure that she would do it or that he was right to ask her to. Fuck. He wasn't sure of anything at the moment because he'd figured he'd be balls deep in her by now.

Meg met his eyes and unzipped her jacket. His cock went immediately hard as she pulled it off. Her shirt, one of his tees, followed. She wore the tank top underneath, the one that she'd worn while he'd held the brand to her skin, The bandage covering it was exposed; knowing what was underneath it only made him harder. The T was larger than he'd intended it to be in order to achieve the detail he'd requested. The base was a nearly exact replica of the trunk to his tree. Train wasn't really sure where the idea had come from, but once it had taken root, there was no denying it was the perfect thing. The line that topped the T was shaped like a branch.

“Keep going,” he told her when she hesitated with her hands on the hem of the tank top. “All of it, every last bit.” Train smiled when she threw the tank top and he saw that she'd worn a strapless bra underneath the tank top. “Why'd you wear a bra?”

“Because,” she replied with a roll of her eyes that said it should be obvious why she'd worn one. Train didn't push the subject because he figured that it was her feeling insecure and exposed. She reached between her breasts, unhooked the clasp and let the bra fall to the floor. Her hands moved down to her jeans, undid the button.

“Hold on. You're forgetting something.” He glanced down meaningfully at her boots. She followed his gaze and blushed bright red.

“Shit!” Meg swore. She made her way to the couch, sat and started to fumble with the laces on her boots despite the fact that they also had a zipper.

Train chuckled. “Let me,” he knelt on the floor in front of her, grabbed her foot and pulled the zipper down.

“I forgot about the zipper. Alright, I'm drunker than I thought.”

Train took off the other boot, set them both aside. “You want to sleep it of?”

“I'm not that drunk. Just drunker than I thought. I was pretty sure I was really just tipsy.” She met his eyes with a smile, lifted her hips and began to tug down her jeans the best she could.

“Tipsy was about three miles back, Meg.” He helped her get the jeans all the way off and tossed them to the side. He nearly asked her again if she was sure that she didn't want to just go upstairs but realized that was very likely to piss her off again. Honestly, he could think of better things to do with her now that she was naked.

The muscles in her thighs jumped as he ran his hands over them. He loved the feeling of her skin beneath his hands. She was soft, supple, and he knew that no matter where he kissed her she'd be sinfully sweet. He also knew that she'd be impatient, and she proved him right as she shifted and spread her legs.

Train gripped her thighs, pulled her to the very edge of the couch. She gasped as she realized his intention and then cried out as he lowered his mouth to her. She cried out, first his name and then gibberish when he slid two fingers inside of her warmth without warning. He knew her body. He wanted her to come, hard and fast, so he wasn't gentle.

She met each thrust of his fingers with her hips and a moan. The cries grew louder; her hips became more frantic as he increased the pace of his fingers. Train used his teeth, lightly biting down on her most sensitive flesh. He felt her yank out hair, her hips went perfectly still and then completely wild as she went over the edge.

He pulled back as she fell limply back against the couch. Her eyes were at half-mast, her smile a mix of sleepy and satisfied. “Holy shit, I love it when you do that.” Train shifted forward, up her body and covered her mouth with his. She kissed him back immediately, tasting herself on his lips.

“Turn around.” Train rose to his feet. “Lean toward the back of the couch.” He saw a flicker of something, perhaps hesitation, in her eyes, but she did as he asked. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of her. The curve of her ass just begged to be bitten, so he leaned down and did just that.

She gripped the couch, he'd surprised her. He loved that he could. Train smoothed his fingers over the spot, watched as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. “Too much?” It was something he rarely asked, usually he was sure what she was thinking, but now there was a dark look in her eye.

“No,” she said softly. “It's not.”

Train kept his eyes on hers as he slid his fingers between her legs once more. “Do you want to come again?”

“Yes.” She replied without hesitation. “I want you. I want you in me.” Her hands gripped the back of the sofa so hard, he could see them turning white. “I want to try something. I don't know how to say it.”

“Just say it,” Train suggested as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. His mind immediately jumped to what he hoped she wanted to do. “Talk dirty to me, Meg.” Her cheeks flushed, but she didn't look away. She opened and closed her mouth several times. “How am I going to know if you don't tell me?”

“I want...” She blushed bright red.

“Meg, if you can't say it, it makes me wonder if you really want it or if you think that it's something I want.” Train ran his hands up her back. “All I want, all I need, is you.”

“You've got me.”

“I know that, and I don't want you doing anything you don't want to do. Got it?” Train continued to rub her back in a soft, slow motion. No matter how much he might have wanted whatever she was too embarrassed to say, he didn't want to get it when she wasn't one hundred percent on board. Fuck that. He wasn't one of the pricks who'd raped her, though he imagined that they wouldn't consider it rape. Fuckers like that never did.

“But I...”

“Meg, if you can't say it with a straight face...” he trailed off, shook his head and let his hands move up her back. “Just relax.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the soft skin of her shoulder. Train slid his hand between her legs, he'd make sure that she relaxed.

It didn't take long until she whimpered and her hips moved against him. She was as ready as he was and gripped the back of the couch tighter as he took hold of her hips. It felt like he was coming home when he was finally inside of her. She hadn't wanted gentle earlier. He didn't give it to her now. Instead, he moved hard and fast, as deep inside of her as he could.

Train felt her contract around him, heard her cry out and knew that she was close. He also knew that the orgasm was going to wipe her out. He sped up the pace of his hips, slid one of his hands between her legs and let his fingers work her clit.

It was his name on her lips as she came and that, combined with the feeling of her warm and wet around him, was enough to send him over the edge behind her.

<#<#<#<#

Train didn't get hangovers, as a rule. The following morning was no exception. He felt no worse for wear as he woke to the sound of his phone ringing. Next to him, Meg let out a groan that suggested she hadn't fared so well as far as a hangover, so he slipped out of bed and took the phone into the hallway. “What's up, Buster?”

“Gagliardi wants a meeting. I want you there,” Buster said in a clipped tone.

“Why?” Train moved further away from the bedroom so that Meg wouldn't wake up from the sound of his voice.

“Why does he want the meeting or why do I want you there? I don't know why he's asking to meet. I'm assuming it's about the Info shit. We'll find out for sure when we get there.”

Buster didn't answer why he wanted him at the meeting; part of Train hadn't expected him to. “Give me half an hour and I'll be there.” He ended the call and walked down the stairs. He started coffee; Meg was going to need it when she woke up.

Meg woke when he was nearly dressed. “Morning. What time is it?”

“It's almost ten. I've got to head out, club stuff, but I'll be back.” He hoped that she wouldn't ask any questions. “Why don't you go back to sleep for a while? When I come back, we'll do something.”

“I'm up now. My head hurts. I need coffee.”

“I started a pot downstairs. Make sure that you eat something. It'll make you feel better, maybe even human.” Train chuckled as she stuck her tongue out at him. “Don't stick it out unless you're gonna use it, Meg. Right now, we've got no time.”

“Fine.” She stuck her tongue back in her mouth, rolled her eyes as she got off of the bed. “I assume you don't have time for breakfast.”

“You'd assume right.”

“I'll make something good for dinner, then. Call me if you can.” She crossed over to him, stretched up and kissed him but pulled back before he could deepen it. “Trust me, I really need to brush my teeth before you want your tongue in my mouth.”

Train had to laugh at that, it was probably true. “I'll call you and let you know when I'll be home.” He could only hope that the meeting with Gagliardi wouldn't take long.”

By the time that he got to the clubhouse, everyone was already there. Caesar was outside, a cigarette in one hand and a cell phone in the other. As Train got out of the truck and came closer, he could hear him arguing with someone, most likely a female someone, because the man was seriously on the verge of losing his shit and the most common word coming out of his mouth was “bitch.” He lifted his hand in greeting but kept on walking inside.

Train made a point of keeping his nose out of personal shit unless he was invited into it; he didn't really like to be invited in but, it was part of being sociable, especially with his brothers. He found Danny and Buster sitting at a table, looking at some papers in front of them. “We good to go?”

“Two minutes. Sit down, take a look at this.” Buster motioned to the empty chair. “New piece of property on the market. Well, not really new. I think you know it.”

“The movie theater? What the fuck are we going to do with a movie theater?” Train recognized the name and address. It was small, only three theaters and a lobby, where there had been video games and some of those claw machines that held stuffed animals. The last time Train had gone past it, just a few weeks ago, it looked like it had been taken over by squatters.

“I'm thinking a Nightshade Community Center. It'll be a good place for kids with nowhere else to go.”

“So now we're running community centers?” Train didn't know if they were fucking with him.

“No, we're going to be building community centers. The city can run it, we'll donate it to them. Of course, since it is a donation, we'll all be feeling a little lighter in the pockets when it's all said and done.”

Train didn't really care about the money. Wealth had never been a consideration for him and the way he lived his life. “Fine by me.”

“Good to hear,” Danny chimed in. “I was starting to think that we were going to bring everything to the table from now on with you.”

“You're about to have a whole set of appointments with your dentist if you don't stop talking to me like you're better than me.”

“I didn't say that,” Danny protested. He even held his hands up. “It was just an observation. Lately you've been seriously touchy.”

“Let's see how you'd feel if Amelia got the shitty end of the stick that Meg did.” Train remained in his seat, voice calm. “I'm in with the center, I'll do what I can to help.”

“Thank you, Train.” Buster got to his feet. “Let's get out of here. We're going to be late.”

“Hold that thought,” Ace called out. “I just got a call from one of Gagliardi's guys. He canceled the meeting, said that the matter in question has been resolved.”

“That can't be fucking good.” Train felt the beginning of a headache starting.

“No, it can't be.” Buster agreed.

Chapter Twenty