Point of Surrender

by Stacey Lynn

  I came harder, my groans of release filling the room when her hand covered mine and she helped jerk me off.

  “God,” she muttered, and my eyes snapped to hers. “So fucking hot, Finn.”

  I looked back down and saw thick, creamy strips splattered all over her tanned skin like a canvas—across her tits and her nipples, all over her stomach.

  And when she let go of my still hard dick, swiped her finger through the mess dripping from her belly onto the sheets, put it in her mouth and tasted me…

  I surrendered.

  She was all fucking mine.

  * * *

  “I want to take you out tonight.”

  “You mean like a date?”

  Was it? “Yeah, sure.” I nodded. Yes. That was what I wanted.

  We’d been cooped up in the house and on the land for almost a week, only going into town for food and supplies when I worked in the yard. I was going stir-crazy from confinement.

  But I also had some undeniable urge to take Meg out in public, have her in my arms, and show all the lucky bastards in this pint-sized town that this hot woman belonged to me. Mine.

  Meg’s smile shined like the sun that was hitting her face, making her eyes a sparkling blue.

  When I started waxing poetic, I had no damn clue. Probably around the third time I took her last night, or maybe when I woke her up in the morning with my cock inside her, having spent the first time in as long as I could remember not having my dreams filled with nightmares of my past…but something softer.

  Something that had me waking up with a smile on my face.

  It felt like hope.

  I wasn’t sure because the dream had turned to black, and I couldn’t remember it, but the lightness in my chest hadn’t evaporated all day long.

  Her smile disappeared when Johnny snapped his head to hers. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw his lips twist into a frown, and he shook his head.

  My brows twisted and I glanced between the two of them.

  They didn’t say a word, but I felt the tense, silent conversation they had with narrowed eyes and looks alone.

  “What’s going on?” I asked and braced my hands on the counter behind me.

  Johnny’s lips twisted and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m not sure that’s safe.”

  Why wouldn’t it be?

  What in the hell had I missed?

  “What are you…” And then the small pieces snapped together in my brain. Johnny taking her to town. The hidden lies I saw in her eyes. The tension at dinner. Her fear last night. Johnny disappearing all morning. “Tell me you fucking didn’t.”

  Johnny took three quick steps away from me. Fucker was smarter than he looked.

  He threw his hands up in front of his chest, his eyes darting to Meg. “It’s the quickest way.”

  I tossed an incredulous look over my shoulder at Meg. “And you went along with this?” Fuck that. I’d deal with Meg later. My head snapped back to Jonny. “Fucking hell, mate.”

  “You know it’s the best way. If Ryker or Daemon thought of it…if you didn’t have so much personally invested—”

  “Damn straight I have something invested!”

  I roared so loud I swear I saw the overhead light shake.

  Behind me, Meg gasped. Even Johnny looked shocked.

  Not that I blamed him. Showing emotion just wasn’t my thing.

  “Damn it.” I scrubbed my hands down my face and blew out a breath.

  “The good news is that I was in town earlier and I didn’t see any sign of him. I canvassed every place I could think of—even the damn parks and resorts on the other side of the lake. I don’t think he’s here yet.” He shrugged. “So it might be okay.”

  Might. Like I’d take the chance.

  “On the other hand,” Johnny kept talking. The more he talked, the more I wanted to choke him. “If you two go out, and he’s here, you get to take him out.”

  Shit. Somehow, I liked that idea.

  “You put her in danger,” I growled again, lower this time and more in control. And Brayden. Shit.

  Behind me, I felt Meg’s small hand on my shoulder. “I wanted to help, Finn. And I’m already in danger—this just ends it faster like Johnny said.”

  Jesus, he had her brainwashed.

  I stared at her, twisting my neck, and hissed, “I should redden your ass for this.”

  That shouldn’t have sounded as exciting as it did. When Meg’s cheeks flushed, I knew it wasn’t purely from embarrassment that I’d speak to her like that. Her pupils dilated and her eyes went glassy right in front of me. I lost focus for a moment and could only think about hauling her into the bedroom and doing exactly what I’d just threatened.

  “I’ll stay with Brayden,” Johnny offered.

  My brain snapped back to the present. How cute. I was being tag-teamed. And I knew I’d concede.

  Johnny was right. I wanted Meg and Brayden safe, and somehow that stupid dream had spun a strand of hope around my darkened heart.

  I actually thought I could do it.

  Rolling my shoulders, I reached up and grabbed onto Meg’s wrist.

  I pulled her in front of me, and she stumbled from the quick movement, falling into my chest.

  “Fine.” I pressed a kiss to her hair, lingering long enough to inhale her sweet scent—not long enough to get shit from Johnny. “I’ll take care of it. Tonight, hopefully, we end this shit.”

  And maybe in the process, I could find my redemption from my fuck-up with Piper.

  21 Meg

  Two weeks ago, when Faith sat in her kitchen with me in the middle of the night and told me Finn had just used his sex voice on me the first night he propositioned me for sex, I never would have imagined he would have taken me on a date.

  Was it even normal for bikers to date?

  And if they did, I pictured dirty, sticky wood floors, peanut shells scattered all over the place, and walls lined with neon lights and half-naked women. Hard rock music would blare from an old-school juke box that still required quarters and played records.

  Never in a million years would I have imagined sitting in some cheap knock-off Italian restaurant with a white paper tablecloth, a fake rose in an empty vase, and a candle with a lightbulb instead of a wick centered on the vase.

  I thought the place was cheesy but charming with the black and white posters of Italy decorating the walls, which were painted to look like genuine Italian marble.

  They were at least trying to be authentic, even if they’d hit slightly left of the classy mark.

  Finn looked downright uncomfortable as he sat across from me. His brow furrowed and he restlessly continued to straighten his knife and fork.

  He shifted in his chair and a small chuckle fell from my lips.

  I pressed them together to keep from laughing harder when Finn glanced at me.

  “What?”

  “You look like I’m forcing you here against your will. I’m not holding a gun to you and this was your idea.” The teasing glint in my eye told him I was just giving him a hard time.

  Even with that, it took several seconds before Finn smiled faintly and his shoulders relaxed. “Sorry.” He shook his head. “This isn’t my thing.”

  I almost preened with feminine satisfaction. ‘Not his thing,’ but he’d wanted to take me—insisted on it—even though it wasn’t safe and he knew it’d make me uncomfortable. And yet I knew only some of his tension and his restless gaze was because he was keeping an eye out for Moscoe.

  “It’s fine, but if you don’t want to be here, we can leave.”

  He shook his head. “No. I do. I want to be with you.” His eyes popped open and his lips parted, as if he wasn’t quite sure he meant the words.

  Or did, and hadn’t mean to tell me.

  I let the admission roll off my back and took a sip of water.

  “So tell me about you, Finn Walker. All I know is that you’re from Australia.”

  I was dying to know about him. Wanted to pry and
figure out why his eyes seemed so pained and dark all the time even though his smirks and playful grins came freely for everyone else, where it seemed I had to work for them.

  Like now, because his smile disappeared and I watched as he scanned the restaurant. We were sitting in a corner booth at the back of the restaurant—somewhere he could easily watch the foot traffic from the street and keep an eye on the door to the kitchen at the same time, but we were essentially invisible from other customers.

  “Finn?” I asked, catching his attention.

  He suddenly seemed lost to another world, or maybe another life, but he shook it away. “My life started the day I stepped off a plane in New York.”

  I took in his chilled eyes, the sudden hardness in his jaw, and something cold pressed into my chest.

  It wasn’t what he said, so much, but what he hadn’t said. Finn never talked about himself, even at night when he asked me about Brayden growing up, or my job, or his school.

  He peppered me with questions about my life and I answered him freely, and he couldn’t give me this.

  Not even a morsel for me to cling to.

  I pushed my fettuccine around on my plate, the scratching of my fork on ceramic the only sound at our table.

  With sad and hurt eyes I didn’t bother hiding from him, I slowly looked up at him and met his gaze. His honey-colored eyes drifted closed and his shoulders slumped, as if he knew what was coming.

  “You’re never going to give me anything of you, are you?”

  His earnest expression seemed to beg me to let this go and he leaned in and dropped his voice, which made me lean in closer. “You have everything I have to give you.”

  What? Sex? It was the best sex I’d ever had, granted. And it came with multiple orgasms like Faith had predicted.

  But was it enough?

  I shook my head, and my bottom lip found its way between my teeth.

  “But not your past,” I finally said. “You won’t give me anything real about you, not one thing? A favorite movie? Color? The best thing about Australia?”

  He flinched and his eyes darted to the windows outside before he looked at me again. He looked resigned when he sank back into his chair.

  I almost laughed. At least his earlier awkwardness was gone.

  “Can’t give you that, Meg.”

  It hurt, but I tried not to let it show. “Why do you have nightmares?”

  “Meg…”

  I ignored his warning tone. “What do you dream about when you’re screaming?”

  “God damn it, Meg.” He hissed the words at me and his nostrils flared.

  I was pushing him. I knew it, yet I couldn’t stop. I just wanted something more than his dick. I wanted to know him.

  I’d had real love in my past. We were far from those declarations, I wasn’t stupid. But I knew what it was like to be loved by someone and it had taken me years to get over that loss. It was why I hadn’t dated much at all.

  But I deserved more than this.

  “Thank you for the date,” I said, tears beginning to burn my eyes. I had to get away from him before I lost it in front of him. “Excuse me for a minute.”

  Pushing back my chair, I walked as quickly as I could without calling attention to myself.

  Once in the bathroom, I finally exhaled and allowed just a few tears to fall before I squeezed my eyes closed and forced the rest back.

  This wasn’t fair.

  If I was honest with myself, I could admit that I not only found him attractive, but I was drawn to him. Being with Finn made me feel safe in some way. Maybe it was because he seemed to dwarf my small frame. Maybe it was because I had once carried a sadness and pain similar to the one I saw in his own eyes.

  I was falling for him.

  And yet I knew nothing about him.

  With that thought, a burn started in my chest. I may have once again given my heart to a man only to discover that I would never know everything about him. Just like Byron had kept his second life of gambling addiction hidden from me for years—Finn kept an entire lifetime held close to his biker vest.

  His hand was so tightly clenched around his own pain and past, I didn’t know if he’d ever be able to let it go.

  After everything that had happened with Byron, I swore I would never allow myself to give my heart away to a man only to receive just half of his in return.

  With Finn, I didn’t even know if I’d ever be able to have that much.

  Brushing the tears from my eyes, I exhaled another breath and cleaned myself up.

  I’d finish the dinner and the date, hope like hell Moscoe showed up, and then I’d be done, and out from under Finn’s watch forever.

  I’d move on, and Finn would find another woman to sink his dick into.

  And damn if that thought didn’t sting like a bitch.

  * * *

  I felt him in the darkness, lurking in the shadows, that prickle of awareness as I stepped into the dimly lit hallway. My pulse jumped and I spun on my heels.

  He didn’t give me a chance to speak before he took three long strides and stood in front of me.

  He didn’t touch me.

  Finn didn’t have to. I felt him everywhere, all at once, even as he stood inches away.

  “I grew up in a life where as soon as I could, I took off and left it behind. I don’t talk about it. Ever. It does not mean you don’t know me.”

  It was something, I could give him that. But it was still cloaked in nothing I could hold onto. Nothing true or real.

  I tilted my head to the side. “But you didn’t leave it behind, did you? That’s what you dream about.”

  His hands flew to his hair. “Why are you doing this? Can’t we just enjoy the night? Enjoy each other?” His head dipped and his eyes scanned my body as if I wore nothing, even though I was modestly covered in jeans and a tank.

  I went to push past him back to the restaurant, but he blocked my way.

  “Finn, let’s just go.”

  “Not until you tell me why this is so important, tonight. Can you just accept that I’m giving you everything I can right now?”

  His annoyance with me rolled off him. I couldn’t blame him entirely. I was throwing a fit like a teenager not getting what she wanted, but it was important.

  My lip curled. “I gave my heart to a man who deceived me for years. I won’t give it away to a man who can’t be honest with me.”

  Finn’s head snapped back as if I’d slapped him and his brow twisted into confusion.

  I instantly recognized my mistake and it stung.

  “Your heart?” he asked, dumbfounded.

  God, I was such a stupid girl. Just because he could make a girl come didn’t mean he wanted me.

  I shook my head, fought to rub the area in my chest he’d just shot with a dart laced with pain-inducing drugs. “Forget it.”

  I waved my hand and took a step back. If I could get outside, I could get away from him. Get some space and fresh air, clear my head and erase the chilled look in his expression.

  “Meg,” he said and reached for me.

  But I jumped back, turned, and hurried outside.

  He was outside behind me before the door slammed shut.

  As the sound of the metal clinking closed echoed vibrantly in the dark alley, my back was thrust against a brick wall, and Finn’s hands were in my hair.

  “Your heart,” he stated.

  I stared at the ground. “Forget it. It was stupid. Of course we’re just fucking.” I raised my eyes to his, trying to hide my pain. “I know that. I just…forgot it for a moment.”

  “Meg.” He sighed, and his nose ran along my temple. “I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I’m not offended.”

  I wasn’t either. I hurt. Unfortunately, with Finn now touching me, the ache in my chest wasn’t nearly as powerful or prevalent as the pulsing at the juncture of my thighs.

  He hadn’t shaved since we’d been at the lake,
and as his cheek scratched against mine, goose bumps broke out on the back of my neck. I willed my hands to stay at my sides—to not take the scrap he was offering me, regardless of how amazing it was.

  “I will give you whatever you want,” he said, his voice tighter than before.

  I peered up, looked into burning, narrowed eyes and flared nostrils.

  “You want this to be just fucking? I can give you that, Meg. Just say when.”

  I blinked. What?

  “That’s not…” I closed my mouth before I could tell him it wasn’t what I wanted.

  “If you gave me your heart, Meg, I would treasure it. I promise you.”

  My head spun with confusion—at the words he spoke, what he was willing to give me, and how darn good he felt when he rocked his hips into me. I felt the harshness from the bricks at my back gently scrape my shoulders and backs of my arms.

  “I don’t understand how you can treasure something if you don’t give it back in return.”

  “God, you’re frustrating,” he growled. He tugged my hair until my chin lifted and my eyes met his.

  The he rolled his hips and a breathy gasp fell from my parted lips.

  “This is what I can give you. It’s all I have.”

  It wasn’t. I’d seen glimpses. It hurt more that he thought all he was good for was sex, when I saw so much more in the man he could be if only he’d let go of his ghosts.

  “Finn.”

  I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a moan.

  My hips involuntarily rolled into his, and he struck before I recognized my error.

  Finn’s lips came down and I caught a hint of spice from dinner and an undercurrent of heavy lust when his tongue tangled with mine.

  In a few days, we’d be done. If only I could get my stupid heart to cooperate, I could enjoy what he promised he could give me and lower my expectations.

  “Finn,” I whispered against his lips when he pulled back.

  He grunted, pushed into me and grabbed my ass, lifting me up, and propped me against the wall. My legs came up and wrapped around his waist.

  Between his thick denim and mine, he was too far away, the fabric too thick, but my own arousal surged to my core as he continued rolling his hips, pressing into me, over and over again so the seam of my denim hit me exactly where I needed it.