Point of Freedom (Nordic Lords MC #3)

by Stacey Lynn

  “But maybe you should consider one thing before you start spouting your bullshit at me again.” She arched an eyebrow.

  I almost felt like I’d been caught in some kind of trap with the way she grinned at me. I couldn’t help it. I took the bait.

  “What’s that?” One edge of my lip lifted into a sneer and I faced her, almost mirroring her pose.

  “You should consider your own role in that night. If you would have kept your mouth shut, not told him what you thought you saw, then Scratch wouldn’t have been pissed. Wouldn’t have rushed to my place, and he wouldn’t –”

  “You’re blaming me?” My eyes flew wide open at her accusation and I moved.

  I was standing in front of her, arms caging her to the wall that her back was now pressed against. My chest heaved with bated breath.

  Her wide eyes matched mine and she inhaled a quick gasp.

  “No.” She shook her head. Her blond hair skimmed against my thumbs next to her head, and I had to close my eyes. How could I want her so badly when I was still so pissed at her? “I’m saying it was an accident, and neither of us are to blame, Jaden. You just won’t accept that yet.”

  I blew out a breath—of frustration with the way her scent scrambled my brain, regret because it wasn’t the first time I’d thought the same damn thing, and anger because she was the one pointing it out to me.

  “I saw you.” Each word I formed fell from lips with punctuated precision. “You’d been avoiding the club all week long and weren’t returning Scratch’s phone calls, and then I fucking saw you at that ritzy fuckin’ restaurant, all wrapped around another guy. He was going crazy, wondering what he did to piss you off, and you were out fucking around with another guy.”

  Water pooled in her eyes. I didn’t have the time to feel like shit for my harsh words. My nerves were strung too tight as I replayed the memory of that night in my head: Jules throwing her head back and laughing, reaching out and clasping some douche-nugget’s hand. All while Scratch was at the club, working double-time at the garage, because she hadn’t seen him or called him or answered a fucking phone in call in a week.

  He’d been a wreck before I’d caught her cheating.

  “Jaden.”

  I blinked, watched her wipe away the tears slowly tumbling down her cheek. My gut churned with more regret. “I had found out earlier that week I was pregnant and I was avoiding Scratch because I couldn’t figure out how to tell him. I was scared he’d walk away, scared he’d be pissed. I was so terrified that my entire life was about to change and I couldn’t figure out how to handle it yet.”

  She sniffed, wiped more tears away, and my hands finally fell from the wall to my hips. The sound of my jaw cracking and her sniffling echoed in the small space.

  “And that guy was someone my parents wanted me to entertain for the weekend. Mike was the governor’s son and they were in the area working on his next election campaign. It was dinner and a favor to my parents. That was it, I swear it.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and finger, eyes closed because I couldn’t look at her and see any more damn tears. Couldn’t see her when I could see her pulse jumping in the hollow of her throat, and her full lips still looked swollen from our earlier kiss.

  Maybe that one was my imagination. I just knew I hadn’t been able to stop staring at her pink, full lips while she talked.

  “Fuck.”

  She sniffed again. “I loved him, Jaden. I loved him more than anything and I would never do that to him.”

  The sincerity in her pained voice pinched something inside my chest. Compassion? Understanding?

  Hell, was I even capable of feeling those things? I certainly hadn’t ever before.

  Her hand reached out and wrapped around my forearm. The small contact singed my skin and my lips curled up on end. I couldn’t take my eyes off her hand or the way her fingers were so small they didn’t wrap fully around my arm.

  “Jaden.”

  I pulled my eyes to her. Her tears were gone, only the slight trail of stained makeup and red veins in her eyes remained.

  “I’m sorry he’s gone, but it’s not my fault. And it’s not yours. It just is.”

  My nostrils flared as I took her in. Her breathing came in quick, small pants. My eyes trailed across her face, down her neck to her chest, and back to her hand on my arm.

  I didn’t even want to shake it off this time.

  Something about Jules had gripped me—always gripped me—and yeah, I knew she wasn’t fully responsible for Scratch’s death. Hell, it wasn’t the first time he’d crashed a bike, either. More like the twentieth.

  But I had needed someone to blame, and Jules was the easiest target.

  Staring at her now, watching her pulse thrum against her sensitive skin, I couldn’t remember what we’d just been talking about. I knew it’d been huge. A game changer, possibly.

  But all I could see was the girl in front of me that I’d wanted before.

  And now I had a chance. Even if I did want her to stop it.

  “Jules.” I growled her name, showing my barely there restraint, and leaned in. I took one small step and watched her back arch against the wall.

  Jesus. Did she want this? She couldn’t.

  “Tell me to stop.”

  My free hand came up and moved back to the wall where it’d been before. This time, my thumb played with her soft hair that was there, enjoying the feel of her and the way the small movement flickered a slight trace of her shampoo into the air.

  I heard her swallow. Saw her open her mouth to speak and close it.

  Then she licked her lips—and I was done for.

  “Stop.”

  I blinked, stared straight into Jaden’s eyes—that were mere inches from mine—and sucked in as much oxygen as I could. It wasn’t much.

  I dropped my hand to my side as his eyebrows pulled in. I couldn’t do this. Not tonight… probably not any night, but certainly not after we’d just been talking about Scratch.

  The similarities were endless, and even as I began crying, all I wanted was for Jaden to wrap his arms around me, offering me the comfort I so desperately needed whenever I thought about the night Scratch died.

  God, it was so stupid: a night filled with immaturity and accusations, and none of it ever should have happened. And I couldn’t stand there, pressed against a wall with Jaden standing so close, and not think of his brother.

  That wasn’t what I wanted to be on my mind when—if—anything ever happened with Jaden. I’d want it be about us. Not that there would be an ‘us.’

  “You need to go.” My words lacked conviction and Jaden noticed.

  Whatever lustful emotion he felt seemed to increase, radiating off him as he moved closer. I felt his desire for me pulse against my skin before he even touched me.

  Jaden brought his nose down, rubbed it along the length of mine, and inhaled a deep breath. How could his lungs work? Mine felt frozen in carbonite.

  But his touch felt incredible. Stupid of me to let him to get so close, but I was past the point of pushing him away. I couldn’t think straight. His breath on my skin and his darkened eyes stole my sense.

  “You don’t want me to go, and I don’t really think you want me to stop.” As he spoke, his lips skimmed my cheek back to my ear, and then he bit.

  “God.” I mewled right into his ear. With his weight on me, his strong, muscled presence surrounding me, all rational thought fled my brain, leaving me unable to think.

  I wanted to wrap my hands around his arms and pull him until his chest fell against mine. My hardened nipples needed the relief of pressure against them.

  “Jaden,” I moaned. My hips shifted against him as his mouth trailed down the side of my neck.

  He hadn’t made a sound. Just moved. Slowly. Tenderly.

  I didn’t want him tender. My brain swirled with lust as his mouth pressed against the hollow of my collarbone.

  His erection pressed against my stomach.

&nb
sp; “I don’t think you want me to go, Jules. I think you want me to make you come.”

  I did. It’d been too long since a man went gentle on me. Years. Since Scratch. God knows Rob never did.

  Shit.

  “Jaden.” I tugged on his hair, tried to pull him away, but he didn’t falter in his ministrations.

  His tongue licked my skin as his hands went to my waist and under my shirt.

  “We need to stop.”

  “No fuckin’ way,” he growled, right as his hand reach my bra.

  I succumbed. I gave in to the temptation, the heated feel of his callused skin along my sensitive stomach, and let go.

  My hands moved to his shirt, pushing off his leather vest and frantically clawing at the hem of his shirt. He took in my sudden movements, the way my hands tangled in the soft cotton, as I rolled my hips into his.

  God, he was hot. Sweaty and burning my fingertips as I finally found his skin. My hands trailed up his abdomen, taking his shirt with them while I felt the muscles under my touch.

  Not rippled.

  But strong. Fierce. Powerful.

  “Jesus, Jules,” he groaned as if in pain when I lifted his shirt to his shoulders. He ripped it over his head, separating from me, and panted.

  His eyes wild, his breathing heavy—he looked as crazed as he’d made me feel.

  “Want to hear you come,” he growled, right before his lips smashed into mine.

  My head hit the wall behind me as his hands went back to my shirt. This time he ripped it over my head and pulled the cups of my bra down.

  His mouth was there. His hands were everywhere. The weight of him pressing against me had me feeling the rough texture of the wall as it abraded my bare skin.

  “Shit,” he muttered, pulling a nipple into his mouth again.

  I moaned. My fingers flew to the back of his head, holding him there because I needed it.

  I held him there, needing relief. I needed it fast and hard in a way I knew only he could give me.

  Because this wouldn’t be nice. There was too much between us—too much anger and hatred and distrust for this moment to be anything except a good, hard and fast fuck.

  I’d never wanted anything more.

  He bit my nipple and I cried out. Pain mixed with pleasure and I knew he was just getting warmed up.

  Then his hands were at my shorts. He ripped off the button, yanking my shorts apart without giving a shit about my zipper.

  I gasped when he dropped to his knees in front of me.

  “Jaden?”

  Ebony burned in his eyes he looked up at me.

  I caught a quick flash of regret right before he pulled down my underwear and pushed two fingers into me.

  Hard.

  I jolted onto my tiptoes but one of his hands gripped my hip, stopping my escape from the sudden, and completely welcome, invasion.

  “Jaden,” I cried. My hands gripped his hair. I didn’t know what else to do with them besides claw at his shoulders as his fingers moved inside me. Pushing and pulling. Pressing against the perfect spot. “Oh my God.”

  “Shit, that’s hot.” He glanced up at me again before his mouth followed his fingers.

  I pressed the palm of my hand against my mouth to keep quiet.

  His tongue flicked my clit before his mouth took the place of his fingers. Then both hands were on my hips, lifting me.

  He held me against the wall, pulling my legs over his shoulders all while his mouth never stopped moving against my pussy.

  “Oh fuck, yeah,” he muttered, his mouth still on me. “Taste so fucking good.”

  And I had nothing to hold onto as I shamelessly shifted my hips against his mouth. My head fell against the wall and my feet locked together behind his shoulders.

  I was completely at Jaden’s mercy. My fingers clawed the wall, fighting for purchase as my orgasm hit me.

  I shattered. Into a thousand jagged pieces. Everything I had been exploded from the inside out while he continued licking and fucking me with his tongue. His fingers squeezed into my hips, pressing me against the wall, and my heels dug into his back as my core pulsed around his thick, unrelenting tongue.

  I cried out in pleasure, having long forgotten the need to be quiet, all while Jaden slowed his ministrations.

  “Beautiful.” He slowly moved my legs off his shoulders and back to the floor. My knees almost buckled but he held onto my hips until I was steady.

  His head rested against my stomach while I struggled to catch my breath and reality fell down on my shoulders.

  “Oh my God,” I exhaled. I closed my eyes, my heart beating in my ears. And I couldn’t look at him.

  I didn’t want to know what he would see when he looked at me.

  “Mommy!”

  My eyes flew open and my beating heart fell to my knees.

  “Oh fuck,” I whispered.

  Jaden’s head snapped up, looking directly at my widened, fear-stricken eyes. He jumped to his feet like I’d burned him.

  Reality snapped me back to the present like a stretched rubber band as I frantically reached for my underwear and a shirt.

  It wasn’t until I threw one on that I realized it hit me mid-thigh and it was Jaden’s.

  “Fuck,” Jaden growled. His head fell to his hands and he scrubbed his face.

  “Damn it.” I didn’t have time to say anything else as Sophie let out another scream for me.

  I left him standing in my entryway, staring at my back while I hurried to Sophie’s room, wearing Jaden’s top.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  When I entered her doorway she was sitting up, rubbing her closed eyes with tightly wound fists. Her hair was sweaty and matted to her head.

  I brushed it off her forehead as soon as I reached her bed.

  “Hey, pumpkin.” My pulse beat in my ears. What kind of mother was I to have sex in the living area where Sophie could see? “You okay?”

  Oh my God. Had she heard us? Heard me? Shame pooled in my belly.

  “Bad dream,” she sobbed, her arms wrapping around my waist as she pulled herself close. My arms squeezed her in return.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Her forehead rubbed against mine. “Forgot.”

  I chuckled softly as my hands continued brushing out her hair, calming her down until her breathing settled and she fell back asleep. My heart beat rapidly against my chest as I held her sleeping form pressed against me.

  I could have left within minutes… possibly seconds. But I hadn’t yet heard the door close so I didn’t know if Jaden had left or was still in my apartment.

  Another round with him, alone, seemed like a bad idea.

  What in the hell had I just done, throwing myself at Jaden like a club bunny?

  Rob’s voice whispered in my head: Whore. Always such a dirty whore.

  For the second time that night, tears pooled in my eyes and fell down my cheeks.

  “She all right?”

  “Jesus.” My hand flew to my chest. I took in the darkened shadow in the doorway and exhaled. “You scared me. I thought you’d left.”

  He pushed off the doorframe and entered Sophie’s room. My arm wrapped around her waist and squeezed her tighter.

  He was too quiet as he walked right up to us, only visible by the pale lamp lit next to Sophie’s bed, I couldn’t make out any features other than his furrowed eyebrows. Only in his jeans, the button undone—I couldn’t help but look.

  When he reached us, he hesitantly reached out a hand and ran it down Sophie’s hair like I had been doing before he scared the crap out of me. I watched his hand move, fingers curling slightly through her locks before he dropped them at the end. The move was so tender, so gentle—and so unlike the Jaden I was familiar with. I felt my breath catch in my throat when he pulled his hand back and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans.

  “Wanted to make sure she was okay.”

  Why? I wanted to ask, but didn’t. Jaden look confused enough, and I didn’t think he’d answer a
nyway.

  “She’s fine,” I whispered and laid her down gently in her bed. “Just a bad dream, but she’ll be okay now.”

  Something caught his eye and I followed his movement. The catch in my breath grew three times larger when he reached out and picked up a photo album. On the front cover was a photo of me and Scratch, right after my high school graduation.

  His muscled arms showed beneath a T-shirt that he’d ripped the sleeves off of. One of his arms was wrapped around my neck, pulling me into his side as he planted a kiss on my cheek. My face was all squished up, but even with his lips on my skin, he was partly smiling.

  I loved it.

  I loved showing the album to Sophie every day. Loved it even more when I would catch her in her room, playing with her dolls, and wander over and talk to the photos of Scratch.

  Seeing Jaden holding the small album in his large hands sent a jolt of something through me—something that I couldn’t name, but I didn’t hate it. Wasn’t sure I liked it, either.

  “I made that for her,” I whispered, standing from the bed and wiping my hands down my thighs. Why was I sweating? “Always wanted her to know him.”

  I fought the tears that still wanted to fall. One crying session in front of Jaden was enough for the day. Especially after that orgasm I still hadn’t fully recovered from.

  Silently, he flipped through the pages—quickly, as if he didn’t want to truly see them but couldn’t put the book down until he’d seen every one. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched several times before he set the book down.

  He stared at it, shoving his hands back into his pockets. I wasn’t sure what to say—what I could say—so I stayed silent.

  “Scratch.” His quiet voice was dry—tortured, almost. His head snapped to mine and his eyes roamed my face. He shook his head, blinked. “Fucking hell.”

  Before I could ask what he meant, he was out the door of Sophie’s room, the front door to my apartment slamming closed.

  I jolted from the shock, the angry way he’d speared me with his eyes right before he swore, and realized my body was trembling as I stood frozen to the carpet, long after Jaden was gone.

  And I was still wearing his T-shirt.

  Never in my life did I feel freer than when I was on my bike, the brothers in my club surrounding me, and the open highway in front of us.