Read Online Nordic Lessons by Christine Edwards - Free Book Online Page B

hold, desperate to keep him down, to give him the beating that he deserves for calling my club out. For basically stalking my little cousin, stressing her the fuck out for years now, not taking ‘no’ for an answer when it’s obvious that she has zero interest. I see red as I pull violently away from the brawny arm that’s pulling harshly on me. I’m able to land another savage blow to his gut before I’m reluctantly tugged away from him.
    Once my weight is gone he immediately struggles backward and manages to stagger to his feet, trying to save face. He yells out in a fervent rage, “You’ll pay for that!”
    I shove off one of his boys who still has a hand on me and laugh. “Oh yeah? Looks like you’re the one who just paid up for the insult, you fucking pussy!”
    He lunges again and one of his brothers wisely holds him back this time. I must have clocked him hard in the nose because blood is seeping out like a leaky faucet. Good, taught that punk a well-deserved lesson.
    A white Oslo taxi rounds the corner and rolls to a stop not ten feet away from the chaos and parked motorcycles.
    Damn it! Really bad timing Elora ….
    She steps out with a look of confusion that quickly turns to fear when she sees the blood on both our faces. The taxi driver hesitates, as if expecting Elora to jump back in. He waits for a second, rolling down his window to ask her what she wants to do.
    I point to the interior of the shop and give a sharp command, “Go inside, Elora.”
    Eyes flaring, she nearly races for the entrance behind me, her red hair streaming behind her slim back. Dag and his boys watch her closely. Fury rises up like a tidal wave within me.
    I do my best to level out my voice, not wanting to give Dag the satisfaction of my anger. I warn him in a deadly tone, “Don’t you ever fucking look at her. Now fuck-off back to your sorry-ass clubhouse.” I jut my chin out in the direction of their club, which lies on the Eastern outskirts of the city. “That is, unless you want to go for round two, motherfucker? Cause truth be told, I was just getting warmed up.”
    He narrows his pale eyes and glares at me, knowing that he’s been outplayed this time around.
    Bern and I stand fast, claiming our territory as they mount their motorcycles. One after another the choppers roar to life as Dag yells, “This is just the beginning, Mikkel!”
    Squaring my shoulders, I shout back over the roar of engines, “Bring it, asshole, and as usual, you’re wrong because this shit between you and me has been going strong for over ten years!”
    Without waiting for a reply, I turn and stalk back into my garage, so pissed off that I’m shaking hard, grateful that Elora is here to distract me.
    When I’m about to cross the threshold I catch sight of Gunnar racing down the sidewalk, new helmet for Elora clutched tightly in his massive hand.
    “Oh shit! What’d I miss, boss?”
    I shake my head . Gunnar: good guy, hard worker. Never the brightest bulb in the box, though.
    I swipe the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand, ignore his question and stride into the open bay to see my beauty. We have a lot of ground rules to cover tonight.
    * * *
    He looks like an imposing warrior clad in indigo blue. Both blood and oil streak his broad hands, and I watch in fascination as red drops from a fresh cut on his top lip drip steadily down his chin.
    So unbelievably raw and hot ….
    “You’re … you’re bleeding badly. Here, sit, let me have a look.”
    Without protest he takes a seat on a rolling stool next to a neon orange and black motorcycle. I reach down into my handbag, pull out a mini pack of Kleenex, and dab the blood as gently as possible. I move in close to inspect the severity of the cut.
    He stays very still but I can tell that he’s struggling to control his breathing. He watches me closely as I speak, “Well, it seems you are lucky. You’ve narrowly avoided the need for stitches. What in the world was that bust-up all