Confessions of a Litigation God by Sawyer Bennett
Page 32
So I tell her about my son. It’s not an overly long conversation because talking about Gabe eventually leads to talk about hockey, because that’s his favorite sport right now. That leads us to talk of other sports, particularly those that we each like or dislike. This leads us to talk about other things we like or dislike.
For instance, I learn that Mac doesn’t like chicken that much unless it’s fried. She adores all vegetables, will pretty much try anything once, but abhors licorice so much, that she once almost passed out from the noxious smell of it in a candy store.
I grudgingly admit to her a fondness for foreign films, and that I’m so adept at watching a movie with subtitles, that I tend to watch all movies with closed captioning so I make sure I don’t miss any part of a conversation.
She tells me that’s annoying as hell and that if we watch a movie together, she’s not going to agree to closed captioning.
Our conversation goes on and on and on. We discover more information about each other in the two hours we talk, than we have come to know in the past several weeks we’ve known each other. Obviously, much of that time was spent f**king each other’s brains out, and conversation was admittedly not a high priority.
But it’s nice… I have to admit. That part of dating, where you are getting to know the other person, and you revel in the things you have in common, and the things that you don’t just make that person more interesting.
By the time we do hang up, with me telling her I can’t wait to see her tomorrow at work, I have a feeling of such immeasurable happiness coursing through me, I seriously cannot remember the last time I felt like that. I end up going to sleep that night early, just because I’m excited for Monday to get here so I can see Mac again.
Chapter 24
Mac opens her apartment door to me with a flirtatious smile.
“Hi,” she says brightly, and I swear, my soul sighs.
I just saw her not three hours ago at work, yet, it seems like fifty hours. When we had talked on the phone yesterday, and I had officially asked her out on a date, we had set it for this coming Friday.
When I woke up Monday morning, I knew I couldn’t wait that long. So I scrambled to get ready as quickly as possible so I could beat her into work. The corner grocer opens at the crack of dawn, and I swung in there to grab a flower.
Just a single flower.
Turns out, they don’t just sell single flowers, so I bought a bouquet of daisies, and when I got to work, I pulled just one of them out, trashing the rest. I wrote out a little card, asking her to go out that night, and snuck it on her desk along with the flower.
I waited in the break room, which is at the end of the hall from Mac’s office, and kept sticking my head out every ten to twenty seconds while I sipped on a cup of coffee, waiting for her to come in. She’s pretty much like clockwork and at seven AM, she walked into her office, never once catching me peeping at her.
When I walked down there to get her answer, I stepped into her office to find her doing some sort of weird dance that was strangely kind of hot. Her lickable ass was shaking back and forth and her arms were waving around in the air, with my card clutched in one hand and my daisy in the other.
“That’s some pretty funky dancing,” I commented as I leaned against her doorjamb.
Mac gave a panicked sort of yip, and she spun around on me with her hand clutched to her chest. Her face turned red, but do you think she would admit that she was embarrassed I caught her?
Nope.
She just stuck her chin out—making me want to bite it—and said, “I was just excited. It appears I might have a hot date tonight. ”
Yes!
Excitement coursed through me and I had to resist the urge to do my own funky brand of celebratory dance. Instead, I leaned back from her doorway and looked left and right, making sure no one was around. I stepped all the way into her office and shut the door quietly behind me. I turned the lock and absolutely loved the way Mac sucked in her breath when she heard the faint click as I shut the outside world away from us.
Walking up to Mac, I shot her a grin, letting her know I was digging her brand of morning humor and loved that she was excited that we were going out tonight rather than Friday. Reaching out, I skimmed my fingers along the side her neck, all the way around to the back of her head. She was wearing her glorious hair down loose so I sifted my fingers through it, and when I got about halfway down the length, I fisted it tight. Her eyes went wide when I started twisting it around my wrist until my hand was drawn back upward to the base of her skull.
Mac’s breath immediately got erratic… her eyes shadowy. I pulled her head back, skimming my eyes down the creamy skin of her throat. Bending over her, I bypassed her lips, choosing instead to kiss her lightly near the corner of that proud chin she had stuck out to me not long ago. I continued sliding my lips along her jawline, straight to her ear, and reveled in the way that she started trembling. Just that tiny reaction had my c**k swelling.
“I take that is a yes to my invitation to go out tonight?”
She nodded her head slightly because there wasn’t much room for her to move with the hold I had on her hair. I pulled away just a bit so I could look at her and saw that she was as immersed in a haze of lust as I was at that moment.
“Good,” I said, my voice rough and raw, because it was taking everything in my power not to bend her over her desk and f**k her.
Taking a deep breath, I released my hold on her hair and took a step back so I could try to regain my senses. The look on Mac’s face had me wanting her so badly that I could literally taste her on my tongue. I knew, with just the slightest provocation by me, she’d be na**d and splayed out on her desk in no time at all.
Although I really, really wanted nothing more than to sink into her, I refused to give into the urge. I wanted to wait… because I was betting it would only be better if I did.
“I’ll pick you up at eight. The restaurant I’m taking you to is dressy,” I told her and then turned to open the door. I paused and looked back over my shoulder at her. “Oh, and Mac?”
“Huh?”
“Do me a favor… wear those white, lace boy shorts tonight under your dress. You know… the ones that drive me crazy?”
She just nodded at me, her mouth hanging slightly open, and I grinned at her. She was adorable when she was dumbfounded. It’s not a look that Mac wears often I bet.
Now, as she stands in her apartment doorway, wearing a stunning, deep purple dress that has a plunging neckline but hits demurely at her knee, I have to wonder if those white, lace boy shorts are under there.
Stepping over her threshold, I hand over the carton of ice cream in my hand to her.
She looks at it with surprise. “Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Peppermint Crunch?”
“You said it was your favorite the other night,” I tell her with a grin. “And flowers can be so cliché sometimes, don’t you think?”
She takes the ice cream from me and turns toward the kitchen. I follow her in, eyes pinned on her ass as she walks before me. When she reaches the freezer, I walk up right behind her, dropping my hands down and grabbing the material of her dress at mid-thigh. She goes absolutely still, hand perched on the freezer door.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Checking to see if you’re wearing what I asked you to?” I tell her, my voice husky.
“I did,” she says, her voice trembling.
“I think I’ll just check. ” I pull the material up her smooth legs, f**king loving the way Mac’s breath comes out all shaky and full of need. When I reach her hipbone and my fingers touch lace, I lean to the side and take a peek.
Yup… exactly like requested.
Placing a kiss on the side of her neck, I drop the material of her dress and say, “Good girl. ”
She shudders and sighs and I have to force myself to step away, or else there’s a very real danger I could throw her to the tiled floor and bang a quick orgasm out for both of us.
Taking her hand in mine, I give her a wink and say, “Let’s go. ”
***
Dinner turns out to be a surreal experience for me. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been on a date… at least, as a single person. In fact, it had to have been years ago, when I took Marissa out on a date. I search my memory to try and remember what we did, and I come up blank.
No matter, I really didn’t want to dwell on her, but I did sort of want to try to compare the feeling.
With Mac, everything just seems effortless. When we get seated in the back of the restaurant in a tiny little alcove that provides us privacy, we start into a conversation about our respective childhoods. Mac talks fondly of both of her parents, her eyes getting just a tiny bit moist. But she clearly loves reminiscing about the happy times, and it was nice to get a glimpse of her life.
She had me spilling the beans about my family as well, and while I know that when it comes to intimate relationships, I’m very closed off… or at least I had been… Most people would be surprised to learn I am very close to my parents, so it’s quite easy to talk about them.
“So tell me about your parents,” Mac commanded after she took a sip of wine, licking a drop off her lower lip, which made me think of some very filthy things I’d like to do to her mouth.
“They’re great… fantastic. I’m really close to them. I try to get back to Pennsylvania to see them as often as I can, especially when I have Gabe so he can get to know his grandparents. ”
“What do they do?” she asks, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table.
“My mom is an artist, and my dad is a college mathematics professor. ”
“An artist and a math professor?” Mac muses with an appreciative smile. “Talk about opposites. ”
“Right? But man, are they in love. Like that gag-me, sweet type where they constantly hold hands and say mushy stuff to each other all the time,” I tell her as I crinkle up my nose in mock distaste.
Last week, it would have been real distaste.
Tonight… it’s fake distaste.
Mac has opened me up to possibility again.
“What type of artist is your mom?”
“She paints… watercolors. She’s really good, but I’m probably biased. She just sells to some local galleries and a few high-end restaurants display her stuff. She’ll never get rich off it, but she’s doing what she loves. ”
“That’s nice,” Mac murmurs, running her finger around the rim of her glass.
“What’s that?”
“Doing what you love. You have that luxury as well,” she points out.
“That I do. I love being a lawyer,” I agree, but then I notice her eyes cast downward. “Don’t you?”
She looks back up at me. “Yes, of course I do. ”
“Then why the long face?”
“It’s not long… it’s contemplative,” she says as she shoots me a corrective look. “It’s just… you’re so very good at what you do, and I have to think that has a lot to do with why you love it so much. I just hope that ten years from now, when I’ve been practicing as long as you, I can say I still love the law too. ”
I nod in understanding, because Mac is so very new at the business of law. She’s going to be in for some tough battles and many disappointments along the way.
Reaching out across the table, I remove her hand from circling her wineglass and lace my fingers with hers, bringing them both down to the table. Rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand, I say, “You are going to be a great lawyer, Mac. I know when I see true talent, and you have it. But just remember… you can be the best lawyer in the world, and it doesn’t mean that you will love doing it. ”
“You’re right,” she says with a smile. “I just hope that I do. ”
“That’s all you can do,” I assure her and pull her hand up for a kiss.
So I tell her about my son. It’s not an overly long conversation because talking about Gabe eventually leads to talk about hockey, because that’s his favorite sport right now. That leads us to talk of other sports, particularly those that we each like or dislike. This leads us to talk about other things we like or dislike.
For instance, I learn that Mac doesn’t like chicken that much unless it’s fried. She adores all vegetables, will pretty much try anything once, but abhors licorice so much, that she once almost passed out from the noxious smell of it in a candy store.
I grudgingly admit to her a fondness for foreign films, and that I’m so adept at watching a movie with subtitles, that I tend to watch all movies with closed captioning so I make sure I don’t miss any part of a conversation.
She tells me that’s annoying as hell and that if we watch a movie together, she’s not going to agree to closed captioning.
Our conversation goes on and on and on. We discover more information about each other in the two hours we talk, than we have come to know in the past several weeks we’ve known each other. Obviously, much of that time was spent f**king each other’s brains out, and conversation was admittedly not a high priority.
But it’s nice… I have to admit. That part of dating, where you are getting to know the other person, and you revel in the things you have in common, and the things that you don’t just make that person more interesting.
By the time we do hang up, with me telling her I can’t wait to see her tomorrow at work, I have a feeling of such immeasurable happiness coursing through me, I seriously cannot remember the last time I felt like that. I end up going to sleep that night early, just because I’m excited for Monday to get here so I can see Mac again.
Chapter 24
Mac opens her apartment door to me with a flirtatious smile.
“Hi,” she says brightly, and I swear, my soul sighs.
I just saw her not three hours ago at work, yet, it seems like fifty hours. When we had talked on the phone yesterday, and I had officially asked her out on a date, we had set it for this coming Friday.
When I woke up Monday morning, I knew I couldn’t wait that long. So I scrambled to get ready as quickly as possible so I could beat her into work. The corner grocer opens at the crack of dawn, and I swung in there to grab a flower.
Just a single flower.
Turns out, they don’t just sell single flowers, so I bought a bouquet of daisies, and when I got to work, I pulled just one of them out, trashing the rest. I wrote out a little card, asking her to go out that night, and snuck it on her desk along with the flower.
I waited in the break room, which is at the end of the hall from Mac’s office, and kept sticking my head out every ten to twenty seconds while I sipped on a cup of coffee, waiting for her to come in. She’s pretty much like clockwork and at seven AM, she walked into her office, never once catching me peeping at her.
When I walked down there to get her answer, I stepped into her office to find her doing some sort of weird dance that was strangely kind of hot. Her lickable ass was shaking back and forth and her arms were waving around in the air, with my card clutched in one hand and my daisy in the other.
“That’s some pretty funky dancing,” I commented as I leaned against her doorjamb.
Mac gave a panicked sort of yip, and she spun around on me with her hand clutched to her chest. Her face turned red, but do you think she would admit that she was embarrassed I caught her?
Nope.
She just stuck her chin out—making me want to bite it—and said, “I was just excited. It appears I might have a hot date tonight. ”
Yes!
Excitement coursed through me and I had to resist the urge to do my own funky brand of celebratory dance. Instead, I leaned back from her doorway and looked left and right, making sure no one was around. I stepped all the way into her office and shut the door quietly behind me. I turned the lock and absolutely loved the way Mac sucked in her breath when she heard the faint click as I shut the outside world away from us.
Walking up to Mac, I shot her a grin, letting her know I was digging her brand of morning humor and loved that she was excited that we were going out tonight rather than Friday. Reaching out, I skimmed my fingers along the side her neck, all the way around to the back of her head. She was wearing her glorious hair down loose so I sifted my fingers through it, and when I got about halfway down the length, I fisted it tight. Her eyes went wide when I started twisting it around my wrist until my hand was drawn back upward to the base of her skull.
Mac’s breath immediately got erratic… her eyes shadowy. I pulled her head back, skimming my eyes down the creamy skin of her throat. Bending over her, I bypassed her lips, choosing instead to kiss her lightly near the corner of that proud chin she had stuck out to me not long ago. I continued sliding my lips along her jawline, straight to her ear, and reveled in the way that she started trembling. Just that tiny reaction had my c**k swelling.
“I take that is a yes to my invitation to go out tonight?”
She nodded her head slightly because there wasn’t much room for her to move with the hold I had on her hair. I pulled away just a bit so I could look at her and saw that she was as immersed in a haze of lust as I was at that moment.
“Good,” I said, my voice rough and raw, because it was taking everything in my power not to bend her over her desk and f**k her.
Taking a deep breath, I released my hold on her hair and took a step back so I could try to regain my senses. The look on Mac’s face had me wanting her so badly that I could literally taste her on my tongue. I knew, with just the slightest provocation by me, she’d be na**d and splayed out on her desk in no time at all.
Although I really, really wanted nothing more than to sink into her, I refused to give into the urge. I wanted to wait… because I was betting it would only be better if I did.
“I’ll pick you up at eight. The restaurant I’m taking you to is dressy,” I told her and then turned to open the door. I paused and looked back over my shoulder at her. “Oh, and Mac?”
“Huh?”
“Do me a favor… wear those white, lace boy shorts tonight under your dress. You know… the ones that drive me crazy?”
She just nodded at me, her mouth hanging slightly open, and I grinned at her. She was adorable when she was dumbfounded. It’s not a look that Mac wears often I bet.
Now, as she stands in her apartment doorway, wearing a stunning, deep purple dress that has a plunging neckline but hits demurely at her knee, I have to wonder if those white, lace boy shorts are under there.
Stepping over her threshold, I hand over the carton of ice cream in my hand to her.
She looks at it with surprise. “Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Peppermint Crunch?”
“You said it was your favorite the other night,” I tell her with a grin. “And flowers can be so cliché sometimes, don’t you think?”
She takes the ice cream from me and turns toward the kitchen. I follow her in, eyes pinned on her ass as she walks before me. When she reaches the freezer, I walk up right behind her, dropping my hands down and grabbing the material of her dress at mid-thigh. She goes absolutely still, hand perched on the freezer door.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Checking to see if you’re wearing what I asked you to?” I tell her, my voice husky.
“I did,” she says, her voice trembling.
“I think I’ll just check. ” I pull the material up her smooth legs, f**king loving the way Mac’s breath comes out all shaky and full of need. When I reach her hipbone and my fingers touch lace, I lean to the side and take a peek.
Yup… exactly like requested.
Placing a kiss on the side of her neck, I drop the material of her dress and say, “Good girl. ”
She shudders and sighs and I have to force myself to step away, or else there’s a very real danger I could throw her to the tiled floor and bang a quick orgasm out for both of us.
Taking her hand in mine, I give her a wink and say, “Let’s go. ”
***
Dinner turns out to be a surreal experience for me. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been on a date… at least, as a single person. In fact, it had to have been years ago, when I took Marissa out on a date. I search my memory to try and remember what we did, and I come up blank.
No matter, I really didn’t want to dwell on her, but I did sort of want to try to compare the feeling.
With Mac, everything just seems effortless. When we get seated in the back of the restaurant in a tiny little alcove that provides us privacy, we start into a conversation about our respective childhoods. Mac talks fondly of both of her parents, her eyes getting just a tiny bit moist. But she clearly loves reminiscing about the happy times, and it was nice to get a glimpse of her life.
She had me spilling the beans about my family as well, and while I know that when it comes to intimate relationships, I’m very closed off… or at least I had been… Most people would be surprised to learn I am very close to my parents, so it’s quite easy to talk about them.
“So tell me about your parents,” Mac commanded after she took a sip of wine, licking a drop off her lower lip, which made me think of some very filthy things I’d like to do to her mouth.
“They’re great… fantastic. I’m really close to them. I try to get back to Pennsylvania to see them as often as I can, especially when I have Gabe so he can get to know his grandparents. ”
“What do they do?” she asks, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table.
“My mom is an artist, and my dad is a college mathematics professor. ”
“An artist and a math professor?” Mac muses with an appreciative smile. “Talk about opposites. ”
“Right? But man, are they in love. Like that gag-me, sweet type where they constantly hold hands and say mushy stuff to each other all the time,” I tell her as I crinkle up my nose in mock distaste.
Last week, it would have been real distaste.
Tonight… it’s fake distaste.
Mac has opened me up to possibility again.
“What type of artist is your mom?”
“She paints… watercolors. She’s really good, but I’m probably biased. She just sells to some local galleries and a few high-end restaurants display her stuff. She’ll never get rich off it, but she’s doing what she loves. ”
“That’s nice,” Mac murmurs, running her finger around the rim of her glass.
“What’s that?”
“Doing what you love. You have that luxury as well,” she points out.
“That I do. I love being a lawyer,” I agree, but then I notice her eyes cast downward. “Don’t you?”
She looks back up at me. “Yes, of course I do. ”
“Then why the long face?”
“It’s not long… it’s contemplative,” she says as she shoots me a corrective look. “It’s just… you’re so very good at what you do, and I have to think that has a lot to do with why you love it so much. I just hope that ten years from now, when I’ve been practicing as long as you, I can say I still love the law too. ”
I nod in understanding, because Mac is so very new at the business of law. She’s going to be in for some tough battles and many disappointments along the way.
Reaching out across the table, I remove her hand from circling her wineglass and lace my fingers with hers, bringing them both down to the table. Rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand, I say, “You are going to be a great lawyer, Mac. I know when I see true talent, and you have it. But just remember… you can be the best lawyer in the world, and it doesn’t mean that you will love doing it. ”
“You’re right,” she says with a smile. “I just hope that I do. ”
“That’s all you can do,” I assure her and pull her hand up for a kiss.