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Maggie:
If you can, please come get me.
She threw back the last of her drink and blindly slung the glass onto the bar before moving towards the small but well-enjoyed dance floor. Maggie wasn’t the best dancer, but she could move what little assets she had, and the drinks she’d consumed during the night certainly helped her not give a damn what anyone might think of her. The song segued into another one of her nostalgic favorites, and Maggie brought her hands up over her head as she shouted the words out with the rest of the people on the dance floor. This was fun. She should do this more often, have a few drinks, dance to good music, play a few games, and spend some time enjoying life.
A pair of large hands gripped her hips hard.
Maggie turned to tell Mac he was squeezing her too tight, frowning because she would have put money on the fact that Mac would never hurt her. But the man behind her wasn’t Mac. He wasn’t Dean either. He was a complete stranger. A complete stranger built like Andre the Giant and who could most likely deadlift double her weight with ease. He halted her turn and spun her away so he could plaster her back up against his front.
“I’m not interested.” Maggie tried to step out of his grasp, but he dug his fingers in and pulled her back even harder. “I have a boyfriend,” Maggie said, but she didn’t pull away this time. Unless he wanted to let go of her, she was stuck. He was stronger than she was, and her drinks had made her a little lightheaded. The man rubbed his groin against her ass, and Maggie felt like dry-heaving.
“I don’t see him around,” the man said. “I doubt he’d mind you dancing with me.”
“He’d mind.” Maggie looked around the dance floor to see if she could catch someone’s eye and get an assist. If not, she’d stomp his foot, but she really didn’t want to cause a scene and ruin Shay’s night. Her chest felt tight at just the thought. Funny how being manhandled didn’t rouse her anxiety, but the thought of causing a scene did. Maggie and her brain needed to have a long chat about priorities.
“Relax, doll.” The man said and swiveled his hips against her while trying to use his hands to tip her forward. Maggie slid her right foot forward and widened her stance to put her in prime damage position.
“Stop,” she said again, prepared to stomp his foot and elbow his junk as he dropped, but the weight of his body vanished.
Mac had his hands wrapped around the other man’s biceps, and the look in his eyes said he’d rather it was around the sleaze’s throat. It didn’t matter that Handsy was easily six inches taller than Mac and broader than a mountain. Mac muscled him away from Maggie without even breaking a sweat. His strength was fueled by anger alone.
Had she ever seen Mac this mad before? Grumpy, sure. The man always had his brows pinched together, always had a furrow between them. He always bit his words off a little too abruptly, and his jaw clenched tight. When assholes misused Shay’s pronouns he’d been furious then. This was different. The threat rolling off Mac’s body was enough to send a shudder down Maggie’s spine. Even the other day in the store had been nothing like this.
Mac zeroed in on her. If possible, he looked even angrier, his chest heaving as he wrestled with himself. Maggie was pretty sure Mac wasn’t mad ather, but her pulse still tripped away in an uneven beat, and she felt the overwhelming urge to turn and run from the dance floor. She couldn’t do that, though. Mac was enragedforher. She couldn’t leave him alone to deal with the fallout.
“She was into it, man,” the rat bastard said, and Mac took a deep, steadying breath.
Had she been considering retreat? Her anger burned that desire away like dry brush in the path of a wildfire. “No, I wasn’t. I was pretty damn clear.”
“I know,” Mac said, his voice the growl of an angered bear. “She has a damn boyfriend.”
“I get it,” the guy squeaked, hands coming up to placate Mac or ward him off, Maggie wasn’t entirely sure. It almost looked like he thought Mac would hit him. Mac might. “I didn’t see you there. I thought she was fair game.”
Mac growled.
“You have to see she’s hot.”
Mac released him so abruptly the jerk fell on his ass. “Go away.”
“Yup, leaving.” He scrambled to his feet and away from the crowd of spectators now openly ogling Mac and Maggie.
Mac was still panting, his breaths leaving him in audible punches. He reached his hands out for Maggie and then looked at them, horrified, and dropped them back to his side, fists clenched. Almost as if he were afraid to touch her.
That wouldn’t do. Maggie stepped into his body and ran both her hands up his chest, over his firm pectorals, to rest against the sides of his neck. Mac’s eyes drooped closed, and Maggie watched, fascinated, as he tried to pull himself back under control. She moved her right hand and guided his left to her hip, and repeated the gesture on the other side. She brought her arms back up to loop around his neck and stepped into his body, the warmth of his chest blanketing her.
“I shouldn’t do this.” Mac’s fingers jerked against the pleather on her hips.
“It’s okay,” Maggie said. “I’m okay.”
Mac leaned down to press their foreheads together and finally, finally, opened his eyes to look down into hers.
“You’re okay.” His voice was still raspy, like someone had rubbed sandpaper over his vocal cords. His breath was evening out, though the pounding of his heart matched hers.
“I was about to stomp his foot into tiny pieces.”
The corner of Mac’s mouth tipped up into his smile. “I’m sorry I ruined that for you. You didn’t need me at all, sweet girl.”
“I did, though,” Maggie said, and it took effort to disguise the crack in her voice. She’d been prepared to stomp his feet and run, but he’d been a big guy, and she’d been more than a little bit afraid he wouldn’t let go. “I needed you. I’m so glad you were here, Mac.”
