Confessions of a Litigation God

Page 50

She kisses me back, warm and deep, and it doesn’t do anything to help my burgeoning hard-on, but it does wrap my heart up in splendor.

Pulling away, I reach into my inside jacket pocket and pull out an envelope. I hand it over to Mac and say, “Actually… I thought we’d celebrate this. ”

She takes the envelope, sneaking a peek up at me. I just give her a knowing smile and nod for her to open it. She does so without further wait and pulls out a piece of paper. Turning it over, she sees it’s a check made out to her law firm of Carson and Dawson, and I can actually see her lips moving as she counts six zeroes behind the first number.

It’s her portion of the legal fee for the Jackson case that we settled last month. Even though Mac didn’t join my firm, she still asked me to stay on the Jackson case with her and Cal. Over the past eight months, Mac has worked her ass off and handled most of the work under my guidance and direction. We settled it for an amount that would take care of her brain-injured client for the rest of his life, and give Mac her reward for taking on a case that was an outwardly appearing loser and having faith in our system.

She stares at the check for just a moment more before setting it down. I watch as she stands from her chair, waiting for her to walk into my arms. I shift my legs so she can step in between them, and pull her in close. She moves in tight, pressing herself into my erection as her arms go around my neck.

After giving me a light kiss, she whispers, “Thank you for helping me with this case. I could have never gotten that type of justice for the Jacksons without you. ”

Smiling, I lean in and kiss her, and it’s not light or sweet. I grip her waist a bit tighter, pulling her in closer to create more friction between us. I push my tongue in forcefully and take control of her mouth.

When we pull back, I can’t help but grin like a fool at her because her eyes are glazed and her cheeks are flushed pink.

“I have something else for you,” I tell her.

“Please, please, please… tell me it’s an orgasm. I don’t care how… mouth, fingers, dirty talk. Just give me one. ”

Laughter bursts out of my mouth, which is a common occurrence around Mac nowadays. “You never, ever fail to amuse me. I think I’ve laughed more since I’ve met you than in my entire life. ”

“And that’s a good thing, right?” she asks coyly.

I can’t help but pull her back into me and hug her tight. “It’s a very good thing. ”

We hold each other a moment, then I’m pushing her back so her arms disentangle from around me. Pulling another envelope from my jacket pocket, I hand it over to her, my nerves now shrieking in angst.

She eyes me curiously, as she takes it from me. It’s much thicker than the other envelope I handed her. “What’s this?”

“Open it and find out. ”

She turns it over and sees the logo on the left, upper corner. It says, “Connover and Dawson” and her eyebrows furrow inward in confusion and curiosity. I’m sure she’s thinking that I want to start a new law firm with her.

Not wasting any time, Mac opens the flap and pulls the packet of papers out. Unfolding them, I watch closely as understanding dawns on her face as to what’s inside.

You see, the papers are blank, nothing but about ten sheets I folded up. But on the center of the top page, I taped an engagement ring to the center. I picked it out last weekend with Gabe, who, as you can imagine, was not too keen on going shopping for women’s jewelry. But he was excited about me asking Mac to marry me. He has become quite close to her, sometimes foregoing talking to me on the phone when we call, demanding instead to talk to Mac.

I chose a platinum setting because Mac never wears gold. It’s a brilliant, three-carat asscher cut with smaller diamonds around the edge and down the band. It’s a stunning piece of jewelry, completely befitting someone as beautiful as Mac.

As I stare at the ring, taped to the paper, I see that Mac’s hands start shaking really hard. Her eyes are glued to the ring, and she makes no move to take it.

Reaching out, I cover her hands with my own and they immediately calm. She turns to look at me, and I’m almost knocked backward by the love shining in her eyes. It fills me with such elation that I feel like nothing could ever go wrong in my life again.

I give her a smile and take the packet of papers from her, plucking the ring off. Tossing the paper to her desk, I grab her left hand and slide the ring onto her finger, where it sparkles and shines appropriately. My eyes lift to Mac and she’s just staring at the ring, her eyes swimming with emotion. Then she lifts her gaze to mine and smiles at me.

I swallow hard, clearing my throat for fear it might crack. “Will you?”

Her smile cracks wider but her voice is gentle… filled with love and happiness. “Yes. ”

6 Months Later

“Are you ready?” my dad asks as he bumps his shoulder against mine.

I nod, not quite able to speak. Because Mac is walking toward me, holding hands with Gabe, and it has to be the singularly most touching sight I’ve ever had the pleasure to behold.

When Mac and I started to plan our wedding, I was surprised and admittedly pleased that she didn’t want a big church wedding or reception. I certainly didn’t want that either, because it not only reminded me too much of my wedding to Marissa, but it just didn’t seem to fit us as a couple. Instead, we readily agreed to keep it private and small, ultimately accepting my parents’ offer to have it in the backyard of their old farmhouse, surrounded by blossoming cherry trees, mountain laurel and rhododendrons. We decided small meant the only people invited were my parents, Gabe, Macy, and Cal.

My son had never made me more proud in my life when he asked me one day before the wedding, “Dad… since Mac’s mom and dad are in heaven, who will walk her down the aisle at the wedding?”

I shrugged my shoulders, a little ashamed that had never even crossed my mind. I grimaced when I said, “Cal, I guess. ”

Cal and Mac have become very close friends in addition to law partners, and while I have to suffer through an occasional dinner or lunch with him at Mac’s request, we pretty much stay out of each other’s way. But Mac has come to care for him a great deal, and I respect that he may just be the person she wants to give her away.

“Do you think she would let me walk down the aisle with her?” Gabe asked, and my jaw dropped.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. . . that way she doesn’t have to be alone. ”

Fuck, but ever since I realized my love for Mac, it’s made me a sappy pu**y half the time and my son had me practically curling up in a ball to cry. Clearing my throat and blinking my eyes hard, I said, “Why don’t you ask her?”

And so he did… and Mac did break down and start crying, which confused Gabe until she hugged him hard and explained how happy that made her.

So now, the tears are threatening again as I watch her walk across the tender, spring grass… her feet bare, wearing a taupe sundress with large, white daisies embroidered around the hem. She’s carrying nothing but a single daisy in her hand, reminiscent of the one I gave her when I asked her out on our first date, and she now claims they are her favorite flower.

Gabe is wearing khaki shorts and a white, button-down shirt, his feet also bare. He picked his outfit out because it matched exactly what I was wearing, and I love that Mac wanted to go super casual for our wedding.

My eyes lift from Gabe and turn to Mac, and I’ll never get tired of that first jolt of pleasure I get when her gaze grabs ahold of me. She smiles, not just with her mouth but with those emerald eyes, and I feel it all the way to my toes.

I am such a f**king lucky guy to have her… to make her mine permanently. When I think of how easily I could have lost her…

Shaking my head, I put those thoughts away, because I wised up and changed the course of my life for the better. I take a step forward as Mac reaches me. She puts one arm around Gabe and pulls him into her hip, and waits for me to step to her other side, wrapping my arm around her waist. Then all three of us turn to face the minister, as he prepares to start the rest of our life together.

Thirty-Two Hours Later. . .

“Seriously, I can’t,” Mac says as she slaps at my head, and then tries to push me out from between her legs.

“Yes you can,” I murmur against her pu**y, just before thrusting my tongue inside of her.

She groans hard and her h*ps buck, and her hands stop pushing me away but instead, grip onto my hair hard and pull me tighter against her. I smile inwardly because I know she can take more. I’ve been patiently working between her legs for the last half hour, and she’s come twice, which doesn’t count the time on the plane when I put my hand under the blanket that was covering both of us as we cuddled in first class. It was so easy to snake up under her dress, past her panties, and finger her to a quick orgasm that had her biting onto my shoulder to muffle her moans.

Seriously, I cannot get enough of her. Ever since we said our vows and the minister pronounced us husband and wife, I’ve been fighting the raging need to pleasure my wife. I’m not even thinking about getting off myself. All I want to do is have Mac writhe and squirm under me, have her cry out my name in ecstasy, watch as her body fractures and splinters, and finally floats to earth.

Then I’m raging to start over again.

It’s like a monstrous addiction I can’t fight, and I’m consumed with the need to make her come, and come, and come.

Speaking of which, her legs slam inward, ringing my ears, and she pushes her h*ps up while crying out my name. She shakes and trembles, and I continue to lick at her while she has another long, slow orgasm.

Fucking poetry in motion is what it is.

“Please,” Mac cries out to me. “For the love of God, Matt… will you f**k me already and consummate this marriage?”

Pulling my mouth away, I look up her body at her and she’s staring down at me with frenzied need mixed with proprietary love. Yeah… time to f**k my wife.

I crawl up her body, push my c**k in between her legs, and sink in to her, and it’s like I’m f**king her for the first time… it feels so damn good. I know it’s probably way too soon to be thinking of this, but I hope I knock her up on our honeymoon.

Mac is young and has a brilliant career in front of her, but I seriously don’t want to wait to have kids with her. I’m not getting any younger and I don’t want Gabe to get too much older before he has a sibling. Luckily, Mac is in agreement with me and she threw her pills out a few months ago.

I move in and out of her slowly, and I fantasize about this new life I’m building with her.

Four months, Thirteen Days after the Honeymoon…

“Mr. Steward, can you identify this stack of documents I’m handing you right now?” I ask.

Mac passes me a manila folder, which I open and look inside briefly, then pass over to the witness to peruse. I’m into the third hour of deposing the electrician who “supposedly” installed smoke detectors in an apartment, which later caught fire and killed my client. My claim is that the required smoke detectors were not installed, and I think the documents may be forged.

The witness flips through the documents and hands them back to me. “Those are the work invoices that the landlord’s office gave to me requesting the installation. I wrote up one for each unit. ”

“And is that your signature on the bottom of each one?” I ask.

He picks the documents back up, squints at them, and says, “Yup. Looks like it. ”

I turn to glance at Mac, and she gives me a subtle smirk. I had her come to the deposition with me, not because I necessarily needed her help, but because I didn’t want to be away from her for three days. So I hired her to contract on this case with me, which I know wasn’t very subtle. She’s very aware of why I have her here, but she didn’t argue.