Confessions of a Litigation God

by Sawyer Bennett

Page 47

  She gives me a smile as she takes the suitcase, and says, “Okay. See you tomorrow. ”

  She starts to turn away from me, but not before I see something flash in her eyes that I haven’t seen in a few weeks.

  It’s regret, and it f**king punches me in the gut.

  Nothing Mac has done or said the last few weeks has led me to believe that she is looking backward. If anything, she seems to be very confident in her ability to move on, and I’m the only one standing here swamped with sadness, confusion, and longing.

  But I just saw it… a moment’s flash of regret that she’s walking away from me, right at this very moment.

  I don’t think… I just put my feelings out there. Grabbing her wrist, I say, “Let me come in with you?”

  “Matt…” she says, her voice uneasy and fearful. I move my thumb over the pulse that is fluttering wildly under her smooth skin. Her breath hitches, but she tries to put me off. “We shouldn’t. We can’t. We’re not together anymore. ”

  Not acceptable. Because even though her words are coming out all safe and sound, her eyes are turbulently swirling with need.

  I pull her toward me, until she is just inches from my body, my thumb never giving up on its movement over her pulse. “I know. I know we’re not, and I know we shouldn’t. But… one last time?”

  Her eyes darken, her lips part, and a small breath of excitement flutters over her lips. “One last time?”

  “Just tonight,” I assure her, although I’d gladly offer her forever. “But it will be all night. ”

  Mac f**king shudders… right there, standing on the sidewalk with her wrist in my hand and the promise of all night f**king in her head.

  She f**king shudders, and I swell with deep aching.

  “Okay,” she says in capitulation, and I don’t wait another moment.

  Releasing her wrist, I say, “Let me pay the cab. ”

  I practically run to the driver’s side and thrust a hundred dollar bill at the cabbie, telling him to pop the trunk again. He does and I grab my suitcase, turning to Mac.

  We stare at each other, both vibrating with a profound craving.

  This hunger is different from anything I’ve ever had with Mac before. It’s pulsing inside of me because I haven’t f**ked her in so long, but it’s something else too. I’m not just craving to get inside of her, I am utterly aching with the need to hold her… to hear her voice, to worship her, to have her entire being envelope me. I need Mac in a way that I’ve never needed anything in my life, and rather than scare the shit out of me, I find it a humbling experience.

  Mac never says another word. She just turns away and heads into her building. I follow behind, the silent ride up in the elevator in no way awkward, just intense, because there is a tangible passion brewing in the air around us.

  We walk into her apartment, both of us striding right past Macy, who sits in the living room, but I don’t even give her a glance. My mind is too preoccupied with what I’m going to do to Mac tonight. I have so many things I want to do, and if all I have is this one night, we need to get started fast.

  As soon as Mac shuts the door, I let my gaze run over her body. I haven’t given myself the true luxury of doing that the last two weeks, intent on keeping everything as professional as possible. While I let her star in my private fantasies at night, I don’t breach that divide while at work.

  I take my time, scanning her beautiful legs, thinking of that spot right behind her knee that’s ticklish when I kiss it. The swell of her hips, the lushness of her br**sts. I spend time looking at her throat, knowing I’ll be sucking on that spot right where her pulse is hammering against her soft skin.

  Taking my jacket off, I toss it across the suitcase and let my eyes finally meet Mac’s. They’re heated, almost glazed completely over with salaciousness. She just stares at me, her br**sts pushing in and out against the tightness of her blouse, because her breathing has already become erratic.

  Undoing my cuffs, I step toward Mac, my fingers itching to touch her. I put them at her temple and drag them across her head, all the way around the back, catching her silky hair and letting it slide against me. I stare at it as my hand runs through the entire length, and it releases to float back down over her shoulder.

  Bringing my eyes back to Mac’s, I ask her, “Where shall we start?”

  She licks her lips, a move that seems to squeeze my c**k from the inside out, and whispers, “Anywhere you want. ”

  My mouth curves upward licentiously, and I tuck my bottom lip in between my teeth for a moment of consideration. Then it comes to me… where this needs to begin. “It’s been too long since my face has been between those beautiful legs of yours. ”

  Mac sucks in air through her mouth, pushing those perfect br**sts outward, and her eyes swim in longing.

  “Yeah,” I tell her, my own voice raw with need. “We’ll start there. ”

  Mac’s legs actually give way a little from my words, which has me feeling like a f**king caveman. I catch her around the waist and pull her toward me. I know I told her I’d start between her legs, but that was a lie.

  I have to kiss her… like right now, or I think I might die.

  Fuck, what a kiss.

  Deep, rich, sexy.

  Warm, comforting.

  Everything.

  It’s f**king everything.

  I don’t let up on the kiss and keep it rolling from my tongue to hers. My hands get to work divesting her of clothing. When she’s na**d and I can’t stand another minute of not seeing her gorgeous body, I push her down to the bed and let my eyes roam over her again.

  She’s leaning back on her elbows, perfectly pink-tipped br**sts pushing outward to me and begging for my teeth. Her skin is luminescent, her hair falling in a stunning cascade over her back and pooling on the bed, and her eyes… oh, f**k, her eyes.

  They watch me like a hawk while I start to take my clothes off. Mac has never been shy about looking at my body and when I finally push my pants off and stand before her naked, her eyes are pinned on my cock.

  I swear the f**king thing actually stands up straighter and preens under her attention. I bring my hand up and grab ahold, sliding my grip along my shaft. I’ve been getting myself off every night by my own hand, no differently than I’m touching myself right now, but the fact that I’m doing it while Mac’s eyes are on me is about one of the hottest things ever, and I feel like I could unload at any moment.

  Closing my eyes, I lean my head back and moan just a little, so she knows how good it feels to me.

  When I open my eyes, Mac is no longer staring between my legs, but all of her intensity is focused on my face. I give it back to her in equal measure, and we are both helpless to look away from the other.

  “Spread your legs,” I say roughly and she doesn’t hesitate for a moment, spreading them wide and giving me unfettered gazing access to her pu**y.

  Fucking beautiful pu**y!

  “Touch yourself,” I order her, surprised I can even talk right now.

  Mac’s delicate fingers go between her legs, and she gives me the show of a lifetime. I can’t help but pull on my c**k harder and faster as I watch her, but when I feel the telltale signs of an orgasm starting to rumble, I release myself because that’s not happening the first time unless I’m inside of her.

  “Enough. You’re ready for my mouth, and I don’t think I’ll stop until I’ve made you come at least three times. ”

  Mac shivers and her eyes go half-mast. I step up to the bed, intent on latching my mouth onto her cl*t hard, when she says, “Wait. ”

  Fuck no, not waiting, but my eyes go to her in question and I pause momentarily.

  “Let’s make this a little more balanced,” she says.

  Hmmm. Interesting.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “We’ve done a lot of dirty things together, but I don’t think we’ve ever done sixt
y-nine. Let’s give that a try. ”

  Yes, Mac Dawson is beyond magnificent. In fact, I feel like busting out an ode to her greatness right now.

  “You are like the perfect f**king woman,” I say in awe.

  “No, I’m not,” she says simply, and I think that may be an allusion to the fact that if she was… I would have never parted ways with her. That thought hurts, but then she says, “But I’m damn close, so get your ass on this bed and get into position. ”

  ***

  I wake up and glance at Mac’s bedside clock. It’s 5:30 AM and I am warm, secure with my arms wrapped around her, and I am utterly content.

  I also know this feeling will be fleeting, because Mac and I agreed that last night was a goodbye sort of f**k.

  Except… it wasn’t f**king at all.

  Don’t get me wrong… there was plenty of sex. The sixty-nine just got us started and after she came on my lips and I jetted over her tongue, we didn’t even pause. Just started kissing, touching, and groping each other, and we went at it again.

  And again.

  And again.

  But there was a level of need on my part that was not going to be satisfied by a mere orgasm—or five. I needed more from Mac and for a brief time last night… I got it.

  I got the intimacy, care, and pure desire that I had been craving for so long. She gave it to me in murmurs, whispered touches, and gentle licks. She smiled at me over and over again, causing my heart to soar. We talked and we laughed. We did so much more than f**king.

  Yes… what we did last night was transcendental.

  It may have been the most perfect night of my life, and yet the dawn of this new day may end up starting the worst of my life… when I walk out that door and probably out of Mac’s life for good.

  Sadness overwhelms me at the prospect. It’s a miserable f**king thought.

  But it’s just a thought, I tell myself.

  Doesn’t have to be true, does it? Perhaps I can change things with Mac. Maybe I can go back, to that time in our relationship when we were both happy with everything there was between us. I’m not quite sure how to go about doing it. In fact, I need to talk this over with someone trusted, and there is only one such person in my life.

  Easing out of Mac’s embrace, I give her a light kiss on her head and slip out of bed. I dress silently and leave her apartment just as quietly.

  As I hit the street, looking to hail a cab, I pull my phone out and dial my dad. It’s too early for him to be up, because he’s a night owl like me.

  But he’ll answer the phone when he sees it’s me that’s calling. When I tell him I need to talk to him… that I need advice, he’ll quietly slip out of the marriage bed he’s shared with my mom for thirty-six years, and pad into the kitchen.

  He’ll make a pot of coffee while I lay my woes out to him. He’ll listen and won’t interrupt. Then he’ll sit at the kitchen table that overlooks the backyard, and he’ll sip on coffee while he imparts his wisdom. I know my dad… he won’t call me a dumbass and won’t make me feel bad for the stupid choices I’ve made. Instead, he’ll put his head together with mine and help me figure out exactly what I need to do.

  Chapter 35

  In my opinion, unaccomplished people only consider the risks, not the rewards.

  Those words reverberate through my head, over and over again.

  My dad said them to me about ten hours ago when I talked to him first thing this morning. After I told him, with no holds barred, all about Mac Dawson.

  I told him how we met—sparing him, of course, the sordid details—and then proceeded to explain how our relationship progressed, then how I f**ked it all up.

  I didn’t hold back, but told him it was my bitterness and insecurity… my fear over getting hurt, that held me prisoner.

  My dad was quiet the entire time, patiently listening to me while I unburdened. He didn’t even make a sound when I told him what really happened between Cal and Marissa.