Never Be Tamed (Impossible Love #6)(16)

But then his hands untangled from mine and slid down the side of my body, tweaking my nipples as he descended, moving back underneath me and latching onto the back of my thighs. Michael lifted me and changed the angle just slightly, bringing us closer together, and when he thrust again it almost knocked the wind out of me.

I wasn't going to be coasting to the finish line after all. Instead, I'd be coming in top speed.



Michael

I captured every sigh, every groan, and every sound of pleasure that came from her mouth. Damn, she was so beautiful. I knew one time wouldn't be enough, I knew that before we started. Who was I kidding?

I teetered on the edge of bliss, with such little control, I was at risk of shattering any second. Pressure coiled inside, but I needed to take care of Jenna first.

I didn't want to lose the angle so I used one arm to wrap around the back of her thighs, the other hand skated up between us so I could apply pressure where she needed it the most. In the next second, I found her clit and pushed. Jenna practically bucked us off the mat.

"You can let go, Jenna. I've got you." My words pushed her over the edge and her muscles contracted all around my cock.

I fought for control, waiting for her to ride out her release. And once she began to fall, I pumped into her more forcefully until my own rush of pleasure pulled me under.

And once we recovered from the first wave, we did it all over again.

After a minute or an hour or year, I rolled onto my back, taking her with me and tucking her into the crack under my arm. Yup, I was fucked. This girl had completely wrecked me.





Chapter Fifteen



Jenna




I was completely and utterly wrecked-from the inside out. Michael wrapped me up in his arms, and I settled into a big, strong, man cradle. I really wanted him to sing to me, but I couldn't ask. That would be weird.

His lips pressed right to my forehead, his hand interlinked with mine. The word surreal came to mind. We stayed there like that, in a puddle of exhaustion, for a long time. Probably too long. I don't think either of us could believe what happened, despite all the moments that led us here, and I think we worried about what would happen next now that we were really in this precarious position.

"Thank you," he whispered, not moving his lips from my skin, and I felt the words as much as I heard him. I brought our linked hands to my mouth and kissed the tips of his fingers.

I know I should've been concerned about all the problems waiting for us, like his sister, my messed up past, our living situation, graduation, and the fact that I was absolutely convinced I would not survive this relationship-but I just couldn't bring myself to think about anything negative. 

Being with Michael was just too good. Strange, because sex with someone new was supposed to be awkward and clumsy. It was supposed to be about finding what each other liked, and didn't. Not so with us. It wasn't awkward, and we did seem to discover what the other liked without even asking. A few times, thanks to the man's stamina-bless you, police academy.

I felt reborn, all traces of the old Jenna-that insecure girl with a hole in her heart-had turned to ash. The double orgasm killed her.

"Do you want to see where I work?" he asked, suddenly.

I tipped my face up to his and watched as his expression turn a little shy. I sensed instantly that this was a big deal. He was inviting me into his life, and that right there, was even more intimate than what just happened in an old basement gym.

"I'd love to," I told him. But as we put ourselves back together, he seemed to see the old basement gym in a different light.

"I'm sorry, it was here, Jen." There was a trace of regret in his eyes, but I wasn't having it. "I wanted more for our first time-"

"And second," I chimed in.

"I'm serious," he said.

"So am I." I replayed the way he just called me Jen. I liked it. I liked it a lot.

We went across the street to the police station and Michael showed me around. He looked completely in his element, and I could see him there. And the uniform, my God.

Dirty images of handcuffs and submission holds floated through my mind. Thankfully, Michael didn't catch on.

"Where do you sit," I asked him when we moved into the office area.

"Right this way."

I followed him to the work area in the corner. He sat in one of those wheely chairs and I leaned up against the desk, taking it all in.

Then something caught my eye. I apparently caught Michael's at the same time-a file with the words Top Dog on the tab. We both reached for it together. I got to it first.

"You can't do that, Jen."

I turned away from him with the folder, and flipped through the pages of information as fast as I could. There were notes and filings and paperwork with words like: not in compliance, high-risk animals, abuse, eyesore, dump. Page after page of insults to a place I thought was the greatest in the city. I even read a document that said the shelter's building may have asbestos. That Sullivan was diabolical.

Michael didn't say a word as I examined the folder. I'm sure he didn't want to bring attention to his-what was I, a hook-up?-riffling through police documents.

But the way he was looking down, brought an image to mind.

"Was that you in the squad car the other day?" I asked him point blank.

"Hey, let's not do this here." He used a soothing voice, one that seemed rehearsed. It was a tone he probably perfected in his criminal justice training. Yep, I was the crackwhore he was trying to talk down.

But the more I read, the more distraught I became. The bottom dropped out from under me, and I couldn't move.

In marathon running, we call this a power outage. It's the road block that takes the life out of you, completely depleting you of all energy. The main cause: going too fast, too soon.

Sounded familiar.

More than that, my pride was hurt looking at that folder. Top Dog was where I worked, where I spent all my time. It was a good place, a flipping great shelter. Our animals were happy and we were doing honorable work. Sullivan could go fuck right off, and shoot, I caught a sob in my throat, so could Michael.

How could he do this to me?

"Can we go somewhere and talk?" he asked, his voice low.



       
         
       
        

"I have to get back to the dogs," I told him, not daring to look at him head on. "I take it you can get yourself home."

He nodded, and I didn't look back.





Chapter Sixteen





Michael





Determined more than ever to get the dirt on Sullivan, I worked at the station until the early morning hours. Just as I expected, I found plenty of ammunition once I started digging.

I talked to Jones about it when he arrived in the morning, and he agreed that I could present my findings to the captain. I wasn't about to let anyone hurt my girl.

Yeah, it was presumptuous to think that way, but that's how I felt. I knew what it was like to be guarded, not to want to let anyone close. But hell, couldn't I be done with that for now? Maybe try another way?

For me, letting someone in meant the risk of letting someone down-especially someone I cared about. But it was more than that. It was about my need to protect anything that was valuable to me. I'd come to realize that maybe I was taking on too much. And with my family, my job, my new career, did I really have room for something, or someone, else?

I guess I was willing to find out. Jenna might be used to people walking away or leaving, but I planned to stay. I owed it to myself to see where it was going to go. And if I was truly going to help people with my self-defense courses, I needed to come to terms with what happened to Tabby … and my role in it all. If I wasn't in a healthy place to understand it, there was no way I could be in a place to help everyone else.

So once I went back in the gym to work on my demos, I let my mind drift back to that time that I never wanted to think about.

Tabby didn't have to tell me what happened that day, everyone on campus knew. And because of who Thomas Richardson was, he got away with drugging my sister, and taking photos of her in all kinds of compromising positions. And when she reported him, her payback was so much worse.

I'd hung out with that crowd and heard stories, but never in a million years did I ever witness anything like what Thomas and his crew did to Tab. And for that reason, I didn't really pay attention to the previous accusations.

Tabby wouldn't talk to me about it, not that I tried very hard. It was easier to ignore. Until I watched how it was tearing her up inside. The weight-loss, the isolation, the depression. I'd never seen someone so broken, and still she battled on. She fucking fought, until she broke.

It was a memory that no matter how many times I tried, I could never forget:

When I was on campus that day, I went to check in on Tabby. I'd decided it was time that she open up and talk to me. I had to do something. I was approaching her dorm, when I saw the commotion. Thomas' group of idiots had been following Tab, trying to get retribution for their friend. 

I was closing in on them and could hear the exchange.

"Slut," Johnny Milton coughed out.

"Trash," another joined in.

I moved faster to try to get to her, planning my next move as I did.

"Whore."

Then Johnny yelled, "There she is guys, the poster child for STDs."

Tabby didn't respond.

People were beginning to peek out of their dorm rooms and gather by her door. I was close, I was watching.