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I see that something akin to panic is crossing her face, and she is starting to retreat into the crowd.
Hell, no.
We can’t have that now, can we?
Maybe she is scared of this intensity, but I'm not, and I know that I just need to be close to her and hold her in my arms, and everything will be okay.
Makes perfect sense, right?
Okay, not really, but, fuck it. I need her.
I gently shake Di and Tasha off of me, and I'm about to start to move toward her again when I hear something that stops me in my tracks.
I turn to my right and see two guys.
They are laughing and clearly egging each other on; their eyes full of what I can easily recognize as lust.
I wouldn’t give a fuck normally, except they’re looking at my woman.
Because yes, she is already mine, even if I haven’t told her yet or even talked with her for that matter. It's true, and we both know it.
My heart rate kicks up a notch, and I feel a rush of jealousy and protectiveness swamp my senses.
They're better watch what they're saying, or they'll be talking with my fist next.
I take a better look at them; I think I know them from around.
One's a slimy lawyer. We have crossed paths once or twice in court. Lucas Denver, the fact that he is an absolute ass —amarriedabsolute ass— only makes me want to punch him more.
The other one's a middle-level businessman that I know because my stepmom mentioned he was on that stupid list with me. His name is Julian Lowson; the ink is not yet dry on his divorce papers, and he is apparently already looking for trouble.
Well, if he doesn’t stop staring at her, he’s going to fucking find just that. Only, not the kind I’m sure he’s hoping for if I have anything to do with it.
I hear them make a lewd joke about her smoking body, I can’t blame them, but I’m still going to kick them until their balls are inside out if they don’t cut the crap.
“… I mean, she’s doesn’t have enough going on up top, but, man… she’s got an ass that won’t quit.”
Lowson.
“And those thighs of hers… I mean, I know it’s not fashionable these days to bethatchunky, but damn…”
Denver.
My upper teeth clang against my lower ones so fast I almost cut my own fucking tongue in the process.
So, they want to die, then. I’m of a mind of granting their wish if they don’t quit right fucking now.
And calling herchunkyin that tone, as if it were a bad thing?
These motherfuckers have no taste. Not to mention, they have no fucking right to even comment on her sexy thickness admiringly or otherwise. Any other man on the planet lost that right the second my eyes clapped on her.
I strain to hear what else these couple of crass SOBs have to say. I might as well give them all the rope they need to hang themselves with at this point.
That’s when they mention a jerk I’m only too familiar with, unfortunately.
Jonathan Withmore.
I grimace, my jaw turning to steel. That’s another son of a bitch not worth pissing on that goes around town trying to pass for an all-American good boy. I can’t fucking stand him.
