Love & Hate Series Box Set 2 (Love & Hate #3-4)

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  We get out of the car and walk into the old pub. There are a couple of old men claiming the seats at the back and staring bluntly at Tahlia. She ignores them and I’m instantly angry that they are judging her for the way she looks. We order some food and chat about our trip. Things between us are still unsettled; the desire keeps reminding me that I have to make a decision. Either ask Clarke to take the case away or pretend that this trip never meant a thing.

  “You know I’m going back to work tomorrow, right?” I tell her almost two hours later, when I park the car on the campus. She frowns, sucking on that round piercing that pushes me to the edge. “I’m still involved in this case, so the questions won’t stop just because we have something here.”

  “What do you want me to do with that, Micah?” she asks, angry, or maybe frustrated that I brought this whole thing up so soon. I drop my head, trying to think. “I had a really good time in the manor house, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgiven you.”

  “Tahlia,” I say, my tone firm. “Stop it. We both enjoyed it and I don’t know what we have yet. We don’t need to label anything, but I had to warn you. I have to do my job.”

  “Of course, Hot Shot. Take as much time as you want,” she snaps and then gets out of the car. I want to go after her, tell her that I fucking want her, that I can’t let her slip away. She isn’t the next Kerry. But then my inner voice reminds me that I have responsibilities, and that Tahlia is still a suspect.

  She slams the door to her flat and I drive off, furious and pissed off with myself. The time we had together was fucking awesome, but nothing has changed.

  As soon as I get home I take a cold shower and then end up sitting in front of the TV thinking hard. When two o’clock in the morning passes, I want to get dressed and go to her. I put my jacket on three times before I settle back on the sofa. Eventually I fall asleep, dreaming about her.

  Tahlia

  He drops me home, and I run to the house, not even saying a proper goodbye to him. I don’t want to fall into another trap.

  After I slam the door and run upstairs, his car is already gone. It looks like Micah was never planning to come after me.

  My heart wobbles in my chest, but I tell myself that this is for the best, that we are not even supposed to be seeing each other. At first I thought this trip was trick, that he wanted me close to him so he could continue to interrogate me while we were outside Braxton.

  I was wrong. He was truly himself and for the first time in years I didn’t have to look behind me. That’s why I feel so comfortable around him, that’s why I let him do things to me, things that no one has ever done since the rat left me.

  The old manor was extraordinary, and that trick with the fire alarm… Well, I just wasn’t expecting him to organise something so special. When he took me to the library, I was speechless. In my mind I kept convincing myself that it was just a game, that he wasn’t really showing me this because he truly cared. I was wrong again.

  Lust kept hunting me down, shaking me until I couldn’t take this tension anymore, so I ran. The kiss that came after that completely ruined me. We both lost control then and I never felt so alive.

  Now I’m sitting on my bed, certain that this will never ever happen again, that it was a one-time thing. His career is too important too him, like it was in the past. When he talked about the most disturbing moment in his career, I thought that I would break. He remembered, but it’s a shame that he still can’t see who I am.

  I pull off my clothes and stay in my underwear on the bed. My tattoos cover most of my body. That was the only way for me to forget about the past, the scars, the bruises.

  When I showed up to see Mike in his studio, he cried. There was no reason for it; he didn’t do anything wrong. It took me two long years to rebuild the damage and I allowed the artist to be creative.

  I couldn’t take being in that old skin any longer. I hated myself, hated my wrecked body and the deep raw voice that kept reminding me that I could never escape him. Mike tattooed skulls on my arms, angels of darkness on my back and thighs.

  My legs were okay—the monster never used to touch my legs—but I still wanted them covered. It took him years to break me.

  When I arrived in Braxton I thought that I was recovered, healed, but the memories stayed with me until that night when I crashed with Micah. The shock and disbelief came after. The connection had never disappeared—the burning desire that he ignited in my stomach reminded me that he was part of me.

  After the therapy, I stopped believing that I could ever give my heart to someone, be truly loved again. I had one chance, but the monster scarred me for the rest of my life.

  And Micah saved me; I let him touch me and that was a huge step.

  I ran my hand down my skin, feeling the rough patches, remembering the monster burning me countless times because I wasn’t obedient enough.

  “It was one date, Tahlia. Micah didn’t get anything from you, so he won’t be back unless it’s to ask you questions about Suranne,” I tell myself, trying to forget my wish that my life could be normal again.

  ***

  My alarm wakes me up early, at six. For a split second I think that I’m with Tahlia driving to the manor. The strained erection in my boxers reminds me that I’m a pathetic human being. I have to push myself to decide. It’s either being with her or the case.

  It’s Sunday and it’s my day off. Before I took on this case, my life was based only on work. I lived and breathed thinking about my cases. Knox was my main priority and I was working myself to death, aiming to catch him.

  Then Clarke gave me my first homicide and since then my whole life has twisted a hundred and eighty degrees.

  Now Sundays seem pointless. I’m bored, restless and unable to find anything to do. Rogers has tried to get hold of me. I think Lisa wanted me to pop over. I was busy with Tahlia so I didn’t call him back. All the other guys at the station have families. In the old days I could just call Kerry. Now I have too much free time on my hands. When Kerry stayed on a Saturday night, I couldn’t get rid of her even after the numb state set in, so I stopped letting her come over.

  I switch off the TV at seven o’clock in the morning. Half an hour later I’m dressed casually, sitting in my car, trying to shut down my racing thoughts. There is no point contemplating what I’m doing—the impulse is too strong and I have never been so sure of anything in my entire life.

  The drive to the campus is quick. The streets are completely empty early on a Sunday morning.

  I walk through the building, thinking about turning back. It’s too late; my mind is made up. I ring her door a few times—not Woo’s but hers. It takes her a while to answer.

  “What?” she barks, sounding like she just woke up.

  “It’s me. Open the door,” I order her.

  She opens it, not asking any questions. I’m breathing hard. All I can think of are her lips, her skin. This must be crazy. I’m losing my mind, but who cares?

  She stands by the door and I barge inside.

  “Micah, what are you doing—”

  “Shut up,” I cut her off, shut the door and take her into my arms. She has nothing underneath her nightie.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sex amongst other things.

  We careen into her bedroom, knocking some stuff over on the way. I bring her mouth to mine, kissing her with the same desperation I had in the manor. My hands are all over her, red-hot desire spreading through me like melting aluminum. A strange fluttering starts in my chest, then moves down to my groin. She doesn’t object, doesn’t tell me to let her go—instead she is fighting with the belt on my trousers. We’re both shaking with excitement and anticipation. Our lips explore each other, and we bump into doors and over chairs to get to the bedroom as soon as we can.

  “Let’s slow down, babe. I need to see all of you,” I whisper, taking short quick breaths. I kneel down in front of her and begin tracing my fingers down her body. Her windows are shaded with curtains and t
he room is murky. She was probably still sleeping when I barged in.

  “What are you doing?” she whimpers, looking at me with hooded eyes.

  “Touching, exploring. I want to touch every inch of your skin,” I rasp, creeping my hands up towards her naked thigh, lifting the T-shirt up slowly. Her skin is so warm, and she trembles under my touch. When she is finally standing naked, right in front of me, my breath catches in my lungs. She is breathtaking. Tattoo designs cover her skin, and I can’t take my eyes off her. She is perfect, and when I look up and our eyes meet, there is warmth in them.

  “I need to kiss every inch of you, explore your beauty,” I say. I take off my T-shirt and go to the window. “Do you mind if I let some light in here?”

  “No, Micah, please, I want darkness. I prefer it this way,” she says, looking at me intensely.

  I don’t have time to think about this, because I quickly lose myself in her skin, kissing her again. There is no way I can slow this down. I want her pinned underneath me, looking at me when our bodies are entwined in a wave of passion. She grins and pulls my jeans down. I start kissing her neck, and my tongue caresses her sensitive skin, planting kisses everywhere. My tongue moves down to her collarbone. I hiss with pleasure as she starts running her hand up and down my length, torturing me until I can’t take anymore. Soon my hands start exploring the tattoos on her stomach. In some places the skin feels rough, deformed, but I’m not able to stop now to ask questions. I don’t want to ruin our moment. She pulls my boxers down, freeing my erection.

  I push her skilled hands away, taking long deep breaths, and lower myself down, and when I’m on my knees I plant kisses on her stomach. She moans when I stroke her wet sex. Tahlia brings her hands up and starts tangling my hair, whimpering when I assault her gracefully. My heart is pounding loudly between my ribs. I’m fucking unbelievably hard, but first I want her to come like she did in the manor, all over me.

  I bring my face to her mound and she whimpers again and then I stop teasing myself and her. She smells sensual. My tongue strokes her clit gently at first, tasting what I have dreamed about for days, weeks. She is already soaking wet for me, responding and moaning for me to keep going. I press my other hand to her firm backside and bring her closer to my mouth.

  “Oh fuck, please don’t stop… I’m so close,” she yells, pulling my hair harder. She is phenomenal, and every sound she makes drives me insane, building the tension in my groin. My tongue keeps moving over her clit, licking every inch of her. Then my finger joins in and I feel her throbbing for me, and I know that a few more strokes and she’ll come undone.

  She lets go a growl. Then the unexpected wave of orgasm shatters through her body. She moans, and her whole body trembles as I let her enjoy the effects of my tortures. At that point I have lost whatever sense of control I’ve been holding onto. She collapses, embracing my head, but I’m not planning to just leave her like that. I move my arms around her waist and lift her back on the bed.

  “We are going to fuck now. All I want to add is that you look beautiful,” I say, grabbing the condom out of my jeans pocket and tearing it apart with my teeth. I wrap it quickly around my cock and move over her. Blood rushes into my ears when she spreads her legs for me, biting that sexy pierced lip.

  “Just stop talking and hurry up. I’ve waited long enough,” she says, and grabs my face and kisses me like a hungry lioness. My cock is throbbing with the need to be buried in her. I pull away and thrust my hard erection deep inside. She cries out and my head starts spinning. I’m lost in a stream of unbelievable sensations. I start moving, growing stiffer. She moans to me to go harder, faster, but I want to enjoy making love to her slowly. I bite her ear, trying to mute the animalistic sound that passes from my mouth. She’s turned me into a sex-starved man.

  I grab her hips and keep pushing in and out. Soon I’m pounding into her, knowing that I won’t last long like that. I pick up the pace, speeding up, and at that moment I’m losing touch with reality. Our shallow breaths and moans are filling the room. I’m coming a moment later. She says my name and her words stay in my head long after I collapse on the bed next to her.

  Part of me is shattered; the other furious and broken. This is the most amazing sex that I’ve ever experienced. Everything was intense and deep. Before I know it, I bring Tahlia closer, hearing her heart beating loudly in her chest.

  Our bodies melt together and I feel peaceful, my thoughts no longer racing. I have no idea what just happened. She put a fucking spell on me, then took me apart and put me back together again.

  Neither of us says anything for a long moment, and we keep cuddling and kissing. My heart pounds deeply in my chest and I want to stay with her forever because this is the best feeling in the world. We eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms. This time I don’t have any dreams or nightmares. I sleep peacefully for a few hours.

  When I open my eyes, I’m disorientated for some time, quickly realising that I’m alone. But Tahlia’s scent is everywhere.

  I sit up and look around and go to the window. The sky is grey, and when I glance at the clock it’s just before one p.m. I notice that Tahlia’s room is untidy—her clothes are everywhere, and textbooks are by the bed and on the chair.

  I put my boxers back on and head to the living room. She is sitting at the table drinking coffee.

  “Morning, Pinky Head,” I say, walking up to her. Before I know it, my mouth is on hers and we are kissing. She’s wearing a silky gown that covers her sexy arse and tits.

  “Want a coffee, Hot Shot? And it’s not morning, but afternoon,” she asks, breathless, trying to hide the smile. Even now with that sex hair, she looks stunning and I already want to fuck her again.

  “Yeah, please, but I think I’m quite awake already.” I chuckle.

  She rolls her eyes and gets up from her seat.

  I drag my hand through my hair, thinking about the next few days. I can’t fucking deny the fact that Tahlia has done something to me. There is no way I can have it all. Something or someone has to go.

  She hands me a cup of coffee, and that mad gleam in her eyes tells me that she is still up for some fun. “What got into you last night?” she asks.

  “You really don’t know? I had to see you,” I say, taking the cup. “Anyway, what do you want to do today?”

  She raises her eyebrows, looking wary. I want her again regardless of the fact that we were all over each other just a few hours ago.

  “Do you really want to carry on sleeping with me while you’re investigating the murder?” she asks, looking doubtful.

  I know I’m just asking for trouble, but I can’t fight the sudden rising heat between us. “Tahlia, I wanted you from the moment I saw you. The investigation isn’t important. I’ll talk to Clarke, tell him to assign me to another case. I know that you’re innocent,” I tell her, knowing that I’m lying to myself.

  “You can’t do that. I know we have something here, but it’s difficult. It’s your career,” she says.

  “Forget about the case for a second. It’s my only day off. I’ll be on call next weekend,” I explain, feeling tense all of a sudden. Clarke must not find out about this, any of it. I need to be very careful from now on.

  “I’m working later on, and I need to do grocery shopping for the week. What are the rules? What are you expecting from me?” she asks.

  “Just give me a chance. There are no rules. When I’m at work, I have to act like we don’t have any sympathy for each other, because I have no other choice,” I tell her. “Don’t worry about this now. Come on, get dressed. I’ll take you shopping.”

  She doesn’t seem convinced that this whole arrangement will work, but we finish our coffee and then she disappears into her bedroom. For a split second I want to claim her again, but I don’t want to push this.

  We spend the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. I take Tahlia to the supermarket and we end up making out by the freezers. I forget that I have an important job. When I’m around
her I don’t think about my responsibilities. I just have to touch her constantly to remind myself that this whole thing is happening for real.

  In the late afternoon I drop her at the restaurant and then get back to my flat. The fun is over. Tomorrow is Monday and I have to go back to being a detective again.

  I look through Steph’s file, not even realising that the most difficult days are still ahead of me. In the end I hit the bed, thinking that despite everything I want more. For the first time I’m willing to try being the other guy, the one who feels things enough to have a real relationship. Deep down I know that this might never work, because she is still the main suspect, the girl that is holding back the truth.

  ***

  The next two weeks I spend every spare moment with Tahlia Sanderson. I get up, work out and head to the station. I try to work, but that’s the last thing on my mind. Clarke gives me the usual talk about being ahead of the game, and I choose not to say anything about the case. After that, the days just keep passing by. Rogers is working to verify the statement of the guy that showed up at the station a while ago.

  I know that Tahlia is the key witness, but despite our new relationship, she hardly talks to me about herself. I get to the office early so I can finish on time and spend some valuable time with her. The problem is that we hardly communicate. Our new arrangement is all about sex. We eat together, but never talk about the case or about her complicated past life.

  For two straight weeks, we spend whatever moments we can together and soon I realise that she has me wrapped around her little finger. For some reason I don’t want to change anything and soon I’m the one that starts opening up to her. The one that tells her about my life back in London, about the abuse that I experienced through my useless parents. She is like my addiction: she teaches me to be my old self, the one before Steph, and I don’t want to ruin it.

  Since Steph, I never thought that I would be capable of getting attached to anyone else, but I have. It’s not love, but it’s something close. These new emotions are petrifying but incredibly satisfying at the same time.