Confessions of a Litigation God

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?”