When dinner is over, we all head to the bar for a “nightcap”. I don’t particularly want one, and these boors are starting to get on my nerves. McKayla, however, gladly accepts and heads to the bar for another glass of wine. I stand there, with only my second whiskey of the night I’ve been nursing, and talk to one of my colleagues, David Mills. He’s an older attorney from Los Angeles and we’ve had several cases together in the past. Out of the entire group, he’s about the only one I can really stand, and that’s only because he’s old enough that his ego has mellowed somewhat.
“You did a really fine job today,” David says and clinks his glass against mine. “I’m thinking that this case won’t even make it to the courtroom. ”
I nod absently at him, because my attention right now is focused on Brian approaching Mac at the bar. I tense up when I see him stumble into her, knocking a big wave of her wine out of her glass and onto her lap. She’s pissed but remains calm, blotting the liquid with a napkin. She says something to him and, by the look on her face, it’s not very nice. By the drunk look on his, I can tell he doesn’t understand that she’s pissed.
“What do you think about asking for a voluntary mediation among the parties?” David asks me, and I slide a glance toward him… my face rather blank because, while I heard him, while I understood him, my mind is focused more on Brian putting drunk moves on Mac.
“Yeah… maybe,” I say before turning my attention back to the bar.
They exchange some more words, and his gaze is practically glued to her br**sts. She says something that causes his gaze to finally lift to her eyes, and he replies with something that pisses her off. My neck starts aching with the tension I’m holding, and I hand my glass to David. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment. ”
I start walking toward Mac because I don’t like what’s going down. I’m not five feet from her when she stands up from her seat and tries to push past Brian. Fury rages through me when I see him reach out and actually grab her breast. Fury at him for touching her and fury at myself that I’m not there yet to stop him.
Mac knocks his hand away, and he reaches back for her. I’m two feet from her when I see her c**k her arm back, intent on hitting him.
But then I’m there and I have him by the shoulder, slinging him away from Mac with such force, he crashes into an empty table, slides over the top of it, and tumbles to the floor on the opposite side. I don’t even wait for him to make contact with the floor before I’m following his trajectory. When I round the table, he’s lying on his back, blinking up at me in confusion. The other lawyers in the group all just stand around, looking at us with shock over my violent explosion, because they probably weren’t aware of what Brian had just been doing.
I pull him up by the lapels of his jacket and haul him in close to my face. My voice is filled with rage when I say, “It will do me no good to beat your ass or tell you how reprehensible your conduct is, because you won’t remember it in the morning. Rest assured… I’ll be by your hotel room first thing in the morning, and then I’ll decide which part of me you’ll get. ”
Brian blinks at me continually, having no clue what he did or what I’m saying because he’s too shit-faced.
Disgusted, I push him away from me and he goes stumbling backward. Luckily, two of the lawyers in our group catch him to hold him upright. I don’t spare him another glance but turn to leave the bar.
Stalking past Mac, I don’t even look at her. I just growl, “Let’s go. ”
In the elevator, I am fuming. My heart is thundering, my skin is itching, and my breathing is shallow. I wanted to punch Brian so badly, but common sense prevailed. Looking down at my hands, I notice they have a slight shake going on so I shove them in my pockets and lean back against the wall and close my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Mac says softly.
My eyes snap open in surprise and pin her in place. “For what?”
“I don’t know,” she says in a small voice. “I thought you were pissed at me. ”
“Mac… you have nothing to be sorry for. That pig was drunk and inappropriate with you. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him. ”
“Well, that’s a little overboard,” she says with a laugh. “I’m sure he got the message how very wrong it was. ”
“No,” I snap, my voice icy. “He didn’t get the message. But he will tomorrow morning when I pay him a visit. ”
“What will you do?”
“He’s off the case. I’m sending him packing. ”
“What?” she practically yells. “You can’t do that. He was just drunk. ”
No, he was way more than drunk. He f**king touched what was mine.
I push away from the wall and, in one large stride, I’m standing nose to nose with her, vibrating with jealous rage. “He had his f**king hands on your breast, Mac. ”
“So what if he was touching me?” she whispers as she looks up at me, her eyes soft and knowing.
She knows.
She knows that I’m f**king jealous as hell, and I don’t give a shit.
Placing one hand on the wall by her head and leaning down so my lips are just a breath away from hers, I tell her, “Because it should be my hands that are on your body… only mine. ”
Mac lets out a wistful sigh, and it makes my stomach clench hard. She wants me, the way I want her, and I doubt she’d try to talk sense in to me tonight if I make a move.
And right now, coming off rage and jealousy coursing through my body over a woman that I want but shouldn’t have, I don’t know that I have the ability to say no to her. Of course, I’m not the type to wait for her to offer. I’m the type that will just take, and I think that’s exactly what I’ll do.
At least for tonight.
The elevator door chimes, and we stare at each other just a moment more. When the doors slide open, I grab her hand and lead her out. I walk down the hall, my strides long, and she’s at a half jog to keep up with me as I lead her to her room. When we get there, I merely grab her purse out of her hands and dig around inside until I find the room key. Mac doesn’t say a word, but I can hear her breathing unevenly.
I slide the keycard in and push the door open. Grabbing Mac by the elbow, I push her inside.
Propel her past the bathroom.
Push her into the middle of the room and throw her purse to the floor.
When she turns to look at me, I know my eyes reflect the same exact thing I see in hers.
Starvation.