by Clare James
“Be right back.”
It was breezy and warm outside and the girls kept up a brisk pace. The walk felt great for me as well, the crisp air helping to clear my head. My thoughts were going in so many directions, it was hard to keep them to myself.
I so wanted to hold Jenna and tell her that we’d get through this no matter what, and that I was here for her. I’d never leave. It was the same thing I wanted to tell her that night at the station.
Didn’t matter what the situation was, my response would always be the same, I’d never leave. Because this this was done, I’d fallen for her and there was no coming back from that.
Back inside, Jenna was trying to give Oscar some more medication. He wasn’t pleased. I let the dogs off the leash and went to help her, holding Oscar’s head so she could get the syringe into his mouth.
“You’re so good at this,” I said, as she calmed Oscar down.
“It’s not hard, especially when he’s been so good to me.” She put the medication away and took a seat at the end of the sofa.
Determined to see her through this, I took the seat in the chaise across from her. “You saved him from the shelter, I take it?”
“We saved each other, actually.” She smiled as she looked at me, and dammit, I was jealous of the sick dog. “And he just puts up with all my crap, loves me no matter what.”
“You never had that with anyone, else? Like a person,” I ask lightly, even though it’s a heavy question. I think about how lucky I was to have my mom for the time I did. And Tabby.
“I did with Ben. Not with my parents though. They were selfish and we were more like their toys, bragging rights, accessories. But at least I had my brother. When I came to college that’s what I was looking for—more people like Ben. I had that for a while with Noah, Jules and Foster. But after I lost Ben, the pain was too much to take. I never wanted to feel that again, so I pushed away anyone who was close to me. I wouldn’t risk it. I became ugly.” She fussed with her sweater. “Like I look now, but on the inside too. You know?”
She was so far from ugly. Even in that heinous outfit and the day’s worth of tears and worry, she looked so beautiful it made me ache. On the inside? She was even more spectacular.
Her hands were shaky, and her cheeks hollow. “When was the last time you’ve had anything to eat?” I asked, my controlling nature taking over.
She waved to the counter. There was a gas station sandwich in a wrapper with one bite missing.
“There’s a sandwich, if you’re hungry.”
“I’m talking for you, not me.” I stand up. “And that sandwich looks more than a day old.”
I scrounge through her cupboards and find some bread, so I make her toast and tea like my mom used to do for me when I didn’t feel well.
Jenna wasn’t just sad about Oscar, she was sick over it. If she handled the toast okay, I could make her some scrambled eggs.
We spent the next several hours giving Oscar medicine, changing his diapers, and simply fussing over him. He stretched out on the couch and Jenna and I shared the chaise. But by 3:00a.m., the low hum of the TV, the warmth of our bodies pressed up against one another, and the general exhaustion of the day’s events lulled us into a deep sleep…
I woke up to Oscar’s tongue on my face, and I wanted to kiss him, despite knowing where that guy’s mouth had been. He was sitting next to us giving me the side-eye.
He looked like a new dog.
I nudged Jenna, who was tucked into my side, her arm draped across my waist. The selfish bastard in me wanted to wait just a little longer, so I could relish in the way her breath tickled my neck. But I couldn’t.
And I prayed it wouldn’t be the last time I had her in my arms.
19
Jenna
Oscar was a walking miracle. He had perked right up the next morning, and the vet said he’d made a full recovery, but I still worried.
I was so scared that I was going to lose him, and I’m not sure what I would’ve done without Michael.
Unfortunately, it didn’t change anything. Sullivan was still trying to close our shelter, and Michael was helping him, though we hadn’t seen the cops in days.
That was a relief, because I didn’t have time for any interruptions with the fundraiser closing in on me.
In just a few days, I was able to pull the entire thing together. We were going to hold a Spring Cleaning Spruce Up neighborhood event to help get the shelter looking its best.
After reading the file at the police station, the idea started to take hold. Nobody was going to call our perfect pet oasis a dump! Plus, people in Minneapolis loved this kind of neighborhood feel-good event. I wasn’t ashamed to say I was taking full advantage.
We’d have a group on yardwork, painting, fence repair, and then offer special dog training courses and playtime with our adoptees. I found several local sponsors to help with supply costs and offered to assist other businesses in the area with their own events.
Gloria was ecstatic, and Tris agreed that the timing was perfect. And it went off without a hitch. It was pretty awesome, actually. We had kids, and pets, and goodie bags for attendees, and the demonstrations on dog training were impressive. A local TV crew even came by to film a happy, fluffy piece.
It was more than I could’ve hoped for.
But what I didn’t expect was to see Michael—wearing his speckled painting pants—at my event. Side note: he looked flipping incredible in his speckled painting pants.
“Where do you want me, boss?” he asked, proceeding gingerly.
I raised a brow in question.
“I’m actually pretty good,” he said. “Painting was my summer job during high school and the first two years of college.”
What could I say to that?
I got him set up with his gear and tried to dismiss the zing that traveled up my arm when our fingers brushed together as I handed him a paint brush.
I felt his eyes on me all day, and by the time the event was over, my body was so incredibly sensitive, I practically jumped him on our walk home.
“You were great today,” he said, shaking me out of my lust-filled state. His body turned me into a moron.
“Thanks, you were too. Especially with the painting. I really appreciate it.”
We fell into our easy way with each other. Still, despite how great he was today or the night with Oscar, there was still something in the way—holding me back.
“But wasn’t it a conflict of interest or something?” I asked him, no longer able to hold it in.
“Hmm?”
“The case against us. How would your boss feel if he knew where you were today?”
“Actually, I have something to tell you, something I’ve been dying to tell you—the case is officially over,” Michael said.
It took me a moment to understand what he was talking about. “Nobody’s trying to go after the shelter anymore?”
“That’s right,” he said before I screamed, and hugged him.
“Sullivan,” he continued, now a smile on his face, “was a real piece of work. I found out that guy has a list of broken city ordinances about a mile long. I took the info to the captain, and let’s just say that nobody will be spinning their wheels on anymore of his complaints.”
“Really?” I couldn’t believe what he was saying, or that he did it all for me.
“Really.” He reached over and took my hand. The zing between us was back ten-fold. “So are we good?”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Do you know how miserable I’ve been?” I squeezed his hand a little too tight.
“I needed to be sure I had all the information,” he said, all cop-like. The man and his rules. “Plus, you were right, I should’ve told you from the beginning, but I was too chickenshit.”
“I thought I didn’t scare you, Mr. Law and Order,” I teased.
“You scare me, plenty.” He pulled me close and kissed the top of my head. “You know, we do have a lot to talk about.”
Tal
k? Who could think about talking?
Michael turned me to him, realizing that plan had gone to shit. His eyes were dark, his lids hooded. Oh, he wanted the same thing that I did. Everything else could wait.
“Later.” I told him.
He nodded and dragged me up the stairs to his apartment like a ragdoll.
“Your place?” I questioned.
“Yeah, I don’t think Oscar would be very happy with what I plan on doing to you.”
Michael’s bed was huge and so soft. And it smelled like manly heaven—soap, mint, and something woodsy. I wanted to roll around in it. But before we’d even made it to his room, he stripped me all my clothes.
I asked if he’d keep his speckled pants on—at least around his knees—and he just laughed and threw me on the bed.
Now, he was ready to pounce, pacing around the edge of the mattress like a mountain lion.
From the center of the bed, I pulled up to my knees, bracing for an attack.
He crawled in after me and my skin buzzed in anticipation of what he was going to do to me, or what he’d let me do to him. My fingertips were itchy. I wanted to touch and be touched. I’d never wanted anything more.
Michael captured my wrists, and I was about to try out the move he taught me, but the thing was, I wanted to be captured. He moved closer, his thighs positioned on the outside of mine. He tucked our hands behind my back. “Now tell me what you want.”
The words caught in my throat, so I had to focus on each one and say it slowly.
Kiss. Me.
He slanted his lips down over mine, coaxing them open with his tongue, before exploring leisurely. He claimed every part of my mouth, rubbing his tongue against mine and making dirty promises for later. He was thorough, and absolutely relentless.
Then he freed my hands, and I let them dive right into his thick hair, tangling and tugging. He moaned in my mouth and I felt it through my entire body. I wanted him.
We were hands, and lips, legs and scorching skin, and there were so many sensations that it took the rip of a foil packet to ground me.
Michael, lowered me onto a pile of pillows, and as much as I enjoyed our romp on the mats, this was better.
He nestled between my legs and they shamelessly fell open for him. He used the tip of his cock to see if I was ready for him. “Christ, you are so wet,” he growled, and before I could respond, he buried himself inside with one long, punishing thrust. The sensation was mind-blowing.
And that was before he started to move.
I’d never had anything like this before, and I knew it was because of my feelings wrapped up in this man. I was flying. I was wanted. I was being so gloriously fucked. I never wanted it to end. This was where everything made sense for us. Since the beginning, this was where we could give and take exactly how we wanted to. We connected with every touch, every movement, we never had to talk.
But then in an unexpected switcheroo, Michael flipped us over.
“I want you to take control now, babe,” he said, his voice ragged. “Ride me.”
My head went light, so I placed my hands on his chest for balance. He didn’t have to ask me twice. I rose up, and instinctively, he gripped my hips.
I froze.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” I waved my finger at him. “I’m in control, remember?”
“Fuck,” he hissed. “Sorry.”
I tried again. This time, the movements were mine. All mine.
“That’s it baby, you take what you need.”
That was a plan I could really get behind.
I tested him, moving slowly at first, and then fast, working the beautiful friction between us. I found the perfect pace and bounced on his cock so hard, my teeth hurt. It felt so good, I couldn’t stop.
He leaned up and captured my nipple in his teeth. The bite sent shockwaves straight to my clit, as if the two parts were tethered together.
“Christ, you are so hot.” He said before lavishing my other nipple with the same teasing bites.
When my inner muscles started clenching, Michael took over, driving into my tight channel over and over again until we let the orgasm pull us under.
“Jenna,” he said softly from our little blissed out cocoon.
“Mmm.” I rolled toward him, craving his lips again.
“I can already tell you that this isn’t going to be enough,” he said, between kisses. “I’m going to need more.”
“How much more?”
“Five days, minimum,” he said. “Then, we talk.”
20
Michael
Jenna Peterson was hands-down, the most incredible woman I’d ever met. Strong, kind, smart as fuck and fun to be around. Rolling with her under the covers propelled her to freaking celebrity status in my opinion. She made me happy. Giddy as shit, actually.
After we were finally able to tear ourselves away from my bed, we headed over to Jenna’s to take care of the dogs.
“What’s this?” I asked, picking up an envelope from the hallway in front of her door.
“I don’t know,” she said, taking it from me and pulling out a photo from the package.
The picture was one of Jenna, and I was about to admire it, until I noticed what was scrawled across her face.
What the fuck?
It was a recent picture with Jen and Oscar, with the question—Who is the bigger bitch?—written across it.
My jaw snapped and hands fisted involuntarily, while my brain went into overdrive. I scoured the area in front of her door and down the hallway to see if the person who did this left anything behind.
As I conducted my own impromptu investigation, Jenna rolled her eyes and blew it off. “What a dumbass, Oscar’s a boy, not a bitch.”
I stared at her, mouth ajar. “What the fuck, Jen? This is not funny. Who would send you something like this?”
“Don’t know, don’t care. I learned to ignore things like this a long time ago.” We walked inside and Jen let the dogs out of the bedrooms.
“Do not say that.” I said, seriously freaked out and pissed off. “Do you have any idea who would do something like this? You do know it’s against the law, right?”
“With my reputation, things like this have been happening for ages.” She rubbed Oscar’s belly, while petting Ruby and Molly with her other hand. “It could be an enemy or frenemy, is this what you want to hear?”
“Actually, yes. I want to get to the bottom of this.”
“That’s what I’m telling you, I don’t think we will get to the bottom of it. I’ve made enemies, Michael, and I need to take some responsibility for my past—not for all of it, but some.”
“Wait up, there.” Her view of the situation was pretty damn disturbing. “I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. You do not deserve to be stalked or harassed or fucking threatened.”
“Can we just drop it?” Her eyes were shiny. “It’s pretty embarrassing having to explain why people hate you to the guy you’re sleeping with.”
“I’m more than just the guy that you’re sleeping with,” I said with an edge on the words I didn’t intend.
“You know what I mean.” Jenna played with the dogs, putting a little distance between us. I let her for now, and I did as she asked and didn’t mention it for the rest of the night. It was clear we weren’t going to get anywhere on this topic at the moment.
But what I knew was that Jenna was mine, and I didn’t care how her past, my present, and our future were getting all tangled up. I also knew that I didn’t need five days to decide if this was something I wanted.
It was exactly what I wanted, and I wouldn’t risk it for anything. So while Jen was distracted with the dogs, I found the paperwork for both the office building worker who was supposedly fixing her AC, and the guy trying to adopt Ruby. I used my phone to snap a picture of their names and signatures, and sent them to Jones at the station. I’d already made a call about Sullivan.
Yeah, I was a little paranoid.
Hey, if it turned out to be
nothing, great. It was still good practice. But I wasn’t going to take any chances.
And though I’d take it easy with Tabby when I told her about Jenna, I didn’t care who knew about us, which was a good thing because we were about to have our coming out party.
“I’m craving tacos,” I told her later that night. The surprise package that was left on her doorstep really put a damper on the rest of the evening. Plus, we were both starving and exhausted. I thought a quick run for takeout would do the trick.
But when Jules and Foster showed up at Loco Tacos at the same time we arrived, I came to the realization that this night was just going to suck balls all the way around.
I held her hand as we walked inside. She was going to flip, so it was up to me to calm her and show her we could do this. We could live in the real world, together. But once Jenna made eye contact with them, she tried to pull away from me.
“Oh no you fucking don’t.” I gripped her hand tighter.
“Well, look who’s here,” Jules walked up to me, shaking her head like wait until your sister hears about this one.
“Hey, Jules,” I smiled. “Foster.”
Foster’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head, but he remained uncharacteristically quiet.
“Wow, I knew it wouldn’t take long before she got her claws into you,” Jules said, not even addressing Jenna directly.
It pissed me right the fuck off, and though I probably should’ve left it alone, I was done with all of that, especially when I could see that Jenna went completely still.
“Jules,” I said with a laugh. “You have no fucking idea. She doesn’t have her claws in me, I have mine in her.” And then I pulled Jenna in close—one arm wrapped around her back, my hand resting on her hip and fingertips dipping into her front pocket—before I planted the longest, dirtiest kiss on the woman I loved. I kissed her as if my life depended on it…because, well, it was starting to feel like it did.
