Legal Affairs 5 - Reparation

by Sawyer Bennett

“Why would I be?” he asks, incredulous. “I don’t get where you’re going with all of this.”

  “I’m just curious if there is room in your heart to forgive him. I’m not saying you have to ever be friends again, but forgiveness goes a long way toward having a peaceful heart.”

  Matt considers my words. He stares at me deeply, chewing on his bottom lip. But then his gaze hardens. “I’m sorry, Mac. I just don’t have it in me. I’ve worked really hard to put it behind me and move on. Please don’t ask me to do more than that.”

  My heart sinks a tiny bit, but I also completely understand Matt’s feelings on this.

  I understand, and I respect them.

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask.

  “I want you to promise me you’ll end your friendship with Cal and have no further contact with him.”

  I smile at him. I smile at him in sadness and understanding. Pushing up onto my knees, I crawl across the couch and climb onto his lap. I’m relieved when his arms come around me to hold me tight.

  Laying my cheek on his chest, I whisper. “Okay… I’ll do that for you.”

  His lips press into my hair, and he quietly says, “Thank you.”

  True to my word, I called Cal and explained what was going on with Matt and that he had asked me to cut ties. Cal was extremely understanding but was also sad to be losing a friend. I was very sad, too, because I genuinely liked Cal and understood his side of the story. I wasn’t giving up though. I would continue to work on Matt.

  Speaking of Matt… I was hoping to see him soon. He’s been in a trial all week and working late, late hours, so we haven’t had any time together other than a few stolen moments in the morning before he’d head off to court. He would always call me late at night when he was finally leaving the office, usually around midnight, just to say goodnight.

  I missed him and couldn’t wait for this damn trial to be over with, so I could have him back.

  The phone on my desk buzzes, and I can see that it is Bea calling me. Picking it up, I drawl, “What’s up?”

  “He’s a fifteen again,” she whispers. “He just barreled through the doors, and he’s pissed. I think he lost the trial.”

  Slamming my phone down, I take off for Matt’s office, my heart sinking. He’s going to be devastated as he was so invested in this case. Just as I round the corner and see Matt’s office, I catch a glimpse of him stepping inside and slamming the door behind him.

  I walk—okay, run—toward his office and don’t even bother with a knock. I open the door, slip in, and shut it behind me. Except, the door pushes open, moving me out of the way. Bill walks inside and shuts the door again.

  Matt is pacing back and forth, anger all over his face.

  “What happened?” I ask quietly.

  Snapping his head my way, Matt glares at me. “What do you think happened? I fucking lost the case.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Bill urges. “We didn’t even have that much money invested in it.”

  Matt spins around, and I swear I see flames leaping from his irises. “It’s not about the fucking money, you jackass. My clients’ lives are screwed up. The judge totally fucked us on the jury instructions.”

  Stepping forward, I hesitantly lay my hand on Matt’s arm. “Is there an appealable error?”

  The fire seems to die out of his eyes, and he takes a deep breath, letting it out in one big rush. He picks up my hand, which is resting on him, and brings it to his lips, giving me a tentative smile. “Yes. There are several errors for appeal. I’ll have you help me get the Notice filed.”

  Glancing over my shoulder at Bill, he says, “I’m sorry I yelled, Bill.”

  Chuckling, Bill heads back out of the office. “No worries. And I think Mac is better equipped to deal with your snarly ass than I am.”

  Matt takes his jacket off and tosses it on a chair. I watch as he undoes his cuff links and rolls his sleeves up, appearing to be lost in thought. He takes a seat behind his desk, and loosens his tie around his neck a bit. His original outburst is done, but I can still see the tension radiating off him as he stares down at his desk.

  I glance back at his door. Bill had left it opened a crack, so I walk up to it and shut it. I turn the lock, and it makes a distinctive snick that reverberates through the room.

  Matt’s head snaps up at the sound, and he pins me with his eyes. “What are you doing?”

  I start to walk toward him, making sure my hips sway provocatively. Unbuttoning the yellow, silk blouse I’m wearing, I let it fall to the floor so he can appreciate the lacy, white bra I’m wearing.

  “I’m getting ready to make all your fantasies come true,” I purr as I step around his desk and come up to his side.

  Matt turns his chair slightly and looks up at me. He stares at my breasts in longing, and his voice is thick when he says. “What do you mean?”

  Leaning over, I kiss his neck and whisper, “I’m getting ready to give you a five-star blow job.”

  Matt groans, leans his head back against his chair, and closes his eyes.

  “I don’t need that,” he murmurs.

  Laughing softly, I drop down on my knees in front of him. Quickly removing his belt, I slowly unzip his pants past the already huge erection that he’s sporting. “Baby… I’ve never seen anyone in more need of a blow job than you right now.”

  “Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth. “You’re killing me here.”

  Pulling his pants and underwear down slightly, I take his length into my hand, marveling at the silky feel of his hot skin against my palm. I squeeze him gently, rubbing my thumb along the tip, and Matt gives a groan.

  “Shhh,” I whisper as I start stroking him. His hips press upward, urging me on.

  “What if someone calls me?”

  “Answer the phone,” I say nonchalantly as I lean forward and lick him from base to tip. He actually grunts at the contact.

  “What if someone knocks on the door?” he gasps when I lick him again.

  “Tell them to go away.” This time I take him all the way in, straight to the back of my throat, where I relax it so I don’t gag him out. He tastes divine, and I can feel him trembling all over.

  “What if—?” he starts to ask, but I cut him off.

  Releasing him from my mouth, I say, “Baby… shut up and enjoy this.”

  He grins at me and leans his head back again, closing his eyes. I take him back in my mouth, and then I go to town on my man. I pull him in deep, relishing the way he slides between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Bringing his hands to my hair, he grips me hard. His hips start moving on their own, and I can tell he’s completely powerless to stop them.

  I let my hand in on the action. As I pull up on his cock with my lips, I let my hand squeeze and stroke him around the base. Apparently, this feels good to the male persuasion because at this point, Matt starts babbling almost incoherently. I can make out a few words like “fuck,” “blow,” and “come,” but he butchers most of the English language with words like “woirsht” and “ferulsa”.

  No clue what they mean.

  The time comes when I feel him get even larger, even harder, in my mouth, and I take a peek up at him. I love when he looks like this… eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging slightly open, and eyebrows angled in. He’s getting ready to come, and I relish it.

  He erupts hot into my mouth on a down stroke, and fortuitously straight down the back of my throat. He moans low and long, and I’m pretty sure anyone walking by right now would hear it.

  And you guessed it… he whispers my name over and over as I continue to move up and down his length a few more times until every spasm has quieted down, and his grip relaxes from my hair.

  I pull away and tuck him gently back into his pants, pulling the zipper up. Standing up, I lean over and grab his tie, pulling him forward so I can give him a soft kiss. He breathes a relaxed sigh over me.

  “Feeling better?” I ask him.

  His eyes open and they are light golden, look
ing at me with awe and reverence. He nods and says, “You’re amazing.”

  I flash him a quick smile and straighten his tie out. “I know. Now, let’s talk about this appeal and figure what we need to do so we can kick those motherfucker’s asses.”

  Matt’s laughter rings out loud, and yeah… my chest puffs out a little that I did that to him.

  “Hey, baby. I’d like another Slippery Nipple.” I punctuate my statement by wriggling my bottom against Matt’s lap. I can feel the rumble of a groan tearing through him, but he grips my waist hard to stop my movements.

  Party pooper. Who cares if we’re out in public?

  “No more Slippery Nipples for you,” Matt says emphatically. “You’re going to be hating life tomorrow as it is.”

  Dude! Cut off by my boyfriend and during my celebration. That’s messed up.

  I look at my watch and I admit… I must be a little drunk because I have to squint my eyes to bring it into focus. It’s only nine PM, which makes it even more embarrassing that I’ve been cut off.

  We’re celebrating because I had my first solo hearing today and won. Now, granted… it wasn’t much of a fight, and yeah, the other side didn’t even show up, so technically the judge had no choice but to grant in my favor. But hey, a win is a win is a win, and I wasn’t about to say no to Matt when he suggested we go out for drinks to celebrate.

  He surprised me even more when he suggested I invite Macy, and so now here I sit with my boyfriend and my best friend. It’s a plethora of ‘friends’.

  Whoa… I just used the word plethora, so I can’t be that drunk.

  “Hey Macy… I just used the word ‘plethora’ in my mind,” I say, genuinely impressed with myself.

  Taking a sip of her vodka tonic, Macy grins at me. She’s completely enjoying my inebriated state because she doesn’t get to see me this way often. I don’t like giving up control.

  “That’s great, Mac. But so what?” she asks, shooting Matt a conspiratorial wink.

  “W-e-e-e-e-ll,” I drawl out. “I’m obviously not that drunk if I can use big words in my head. Thus, I deserve another Slippery Nipple.”

  Matt’s arms wrap around my waist, and I can feel the rumble of his chuckle against my back. He leans in and kisses me on the neck. “It’s arguments like that that will make you a legal star. I’m convinced. I’ll go get you another Slippery Nipple.”

  Matt deposits me back in my chair and heads off to the bar. I watch him as he walks away, leaning my head on my hand, and giving a swooning sigh.

  “Girl… you have it bad,” Macy remarks. “I never saw you act this way around Pete.”

  “Pete who?” I ask. “There is no Pete… there is only Matt. Hey… that sounds like a really deep, philosophical statement. Kind of like, ‘I think, therefore I am’. Except now it’s, ‘There is no Pete… therefore there’s Matt’. Man, I have layers.”

  Macy bursts out laughing at me. “I love you, Mac. I really, really do.”

  A silly grin breaks across my face. “Awww. I love you, Macy-girl. I love Matt, too.”

  “You do?” Macy asks, her laughing abruptly gone and replaced by genuine curiosity.

  I glance over at the bar and take Matt in. He’s leaning against it casually, watching a basketball game that’s on the TV while he waits for my drink. Do I love him? Or am I just drunk? Can it be both?

  No immediate answer comes to mind, and I realize I’m not quite the philosopher I thought I was just a few minutes ago.

  “I don’t know,” I tell Macy. “I know I’m ridiculously happy with him. He’s given me everything I asked for.”

  “Well, you’ll know when you know. For now—enjoy the ride. And I do mean that with every bit of sexual innuendo I can muster.”

  Looking back at Matt again, I tell her, “Oh, he’s giving me the ride of a lifetime. I’m definitely enjoying it.”

  ***

  After that one last Slippery Nipple, Matt convinces me it’s time to head home. When we walk into the apartment, Matt says goodnight to Macy and drags me back into my bedroom. I wave at Macy, and she shoots me a smile that says, I’m really happy for you, Mac.

  At least I hope that’s what the smile means. Or it could mean, I hope you don’t puke on your shoes but if you do, it’s Matt’s problem.

  As soon as my bedroom door is closed, I spin toward Matt and reach out for his belt buckle. My fingers fumble for a second but then his hands close over mine, quieting my movement. “No way, baby. You’re too drunk.”

  I make a pffft sound, which, in hindsight, really makes me sound drunk. “But honey… I want it.”

  I’m going for seductive and sexy, but I think I may be coming off as drunkenly whorish. To my relief, Matt gives me a soft smile and pulls me into a hug. He kisses the top of my head, and I can’t help but sigh in contentment to be wrapped up in him.

  “You can have it,” he assures me. “Tomorrow…when you’re sober. So for now, go brush your teeth and takes some aspirin.”

  I huff and puff but, honestly, the room is sort of spinning, so I totter off to do what he says. After brushing my teeth and popping two Tylenol, I quickly remove all of my clothes, leaving them lying on my bathroom floor. I probably am too drunk to have sex, and seriously, I don’t want to have sex with Matt and not remember it. That would be a freakin’ travesty.

  When I come out of the bathroom, Matt is lying in my bed. His chest is bare, and the covers are pulled up to his waist. I know him well enough to know that he’s completely naked underneath. He loves to sleep in the buff.

  Although I’m drunk, I still have enough of my wits to enjoy the hotness of Matt Fucking Connover in my bed. He looks like perfection lying there.

  I crawl over him to reach my side, wrestling my way under the covers and collapse beside him in a fit of giggles. Scooting closer to him, I put my head on his chest while his arm comes around to hold me close. Reaching out to the lamp beside the bed, he turns it off and plunges us into total darkness.

  And as always happens when you’ve had too much alcohol and the inhibitions are completely obliterated, I lay it all out on the line.

  “Hey, Matt?” I whisper loudly. Really, really loudly.

  “Yeah.”

  “I think I love you.”

  I’m met with silence, but he squeezes me in response. I wait for something else, but he remains quiet.

  “I’ll probably regret saying that tomorrow, but I just had to say it.”

  “You won’t remember it tomorrow, Mac.”

  “Yes, I will,” I assure him with confidence. “I may not remember telling you, but I will remember I love you. That’s just not something I can forget.”

  He leans over and glides his lips over my forehead. “You’re something else, Mac.”

  His words are soft and genuine. He is not displeased by my proclamation. I may not get the words back in return, but I know that our relationship just got a little deeper.

  There have been many times over the last several weeks that I’ve been nervous in my relationship with Matt. The first time we met and I stripped in front of him, my first day of work when I realized he was my boss, and my drunken proclamation that I loved him.

  Yes, those were all moments of extreme apprehension.

  And yet, none of them compared to the way I feel right this moment before I knock on his apartment door.

  Matt has Gabe this weekend. It wasn’t his regularly scheduled visitation, but his ex-wife called him late last night and asked if he could take him. She apparently wanted to take an impromptu weekend trip with her new boy toy.

  Of course, Matt jumped all over it. If there is one thing I’ve come to know about Matt, he loves Gabe beyond all measure. His entire reason for living is that little boy.

  I was in no way disappointed when he told me last night—Friday night—that he had to go pick up Gabe and wouldn’t be able to see me. I had just been packing up my briefcase with some weekend work when he had come into my office to give me the bad news.

 
; Except… it wasn’t bad news. When he told me he needed to forsake me in favor of Gabe, I was genuinely happy for him and I made sure he knew that. He gave me a soft kiss goodbye and murmured, “I’m not sure I deserve you.”

  Those words alone made it all worthwhile.

  But then Matt called me this morning—Saturday—and asked if I wanted to go with him and Gabe to Coney Island for the afternoon.

  I had asked, “Are you sure, Matt? You want me to meet Gabe?”

  He never even hesitated. “Absolutely.”

  But now the nervousness abounds because, holy hell… what if Gabe hates me? If he hates me, there is no future for Matt and me… no matter how good the sex is.

  With moist palms, I knock on the door and, when it opens, I’m staring at a little miniature Matt. Dark brown hair and soft amber eyes. He smiles at me and, woe to his future girlfriends, he even has Matt’s dimples.

  “Hi,” Gabe says. “Dad says come on in. He’s just finishing up some work.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him as I walk into the apartment, and he shuts the door behind me. “I’m McKayla. But you can call me Mac. All my best friends do.”

  “Want to play Wii bowling with me?” he asks, not even acknowledging my name but instead, focusing on what’s really important to little boys.

  Before I can even answer, I’m completely enchanted when he takes my hand and leads me into the living room. “I’m really good. I beat Dad all the time, and I’ll probably beat you.”

  Chattering away, Gabe sets up my avatar and hands me the Wii controller. After explaining the basics to me, we begin the game.

  Gabe clearly plays the Wii a lot because he gets strike after strike. He’s a little ham too, because every time he does, he does a little dance in front of the TV and yells, “In your face, Mac.”

  We’ve only been playing for about twenty minutes when Matt comes out of his back office. I’m just getting ready to bowl when he says, “Poor form, Mac. I think you need to bend over a little more.”

  I shoot a smirk over my shoulder at him and say, “Behave yourself.”

  Chuckling, Matt sits down on the couch and watches his son totally beat my ass again. Gabe shrieks in glee, mocking my defeat at the hands of a child.