Page 19 of Thirteen Years
“What?! You’re a woman with needs.”
“I’m going to have to cut you off at one.” I laughed. Looking at her glass I saw she was empty. I had volunteered to drive tonight, so I could buy her a second. “I’ll go get you a refill and myself a diet soda.”
“Ok,” she replied, already opening her phone to check her text messages.
I made my way through the crowded bar and asked the bartender for another margarita and a diet soda. He nodded and said he’d get it as quick as he could. I sighed and leaned against the bar, watching everyone.
A body suddenly pressed up against my back, hands framing my hips. I jerked away and turned to see the asshole that had been at our table.
“Excuse me,” I said, trying to step away.
He placed his hands on the bar on either side of me, caging me in, and pressing close. I leaned back as far as I could, disgusted and nervous suddenly. My breathing was picking up and I was starting to feel trapped.
“Turning down dances and drinks and then talking about me as I left was pretty bitchy,” he said with an edge against my ear.
I pulled back, looking up into his eyes, his pupils dilated to the point the iris was near invisible. It was obvious he was as high as a kite.. Shit on a stick. This would happen on my first night out in over a decade.
“Could you please move out of my way?” I said. It came out more shaky and less forceful than I intended and he laughed at my attempt.
“I don’t think I will. I’d like to take you somewhere and fuck the bitch right out of you actually,” he said, moving a hand to my waist to grip it painfully this time. Was he really that high to try this in a crowded bar?
I tried to remind myself I was okay, but all of a sudden, I couldn’t breathe. It was Clark’s hands on me and I was back in that apartment. I couldn’t even speak now. Panic had set in, effectively locking me in pace.
My palms were growing damp with my nerves and I felt like a load of bricks were pressing down onto my chest. I didn’t have panic attacks often, but when something like this happened where I felt out of control, they could hit me suddenly. My legs were feeling weaker and I gripped the bar behind me, trying to think of a way out or around this jackass.
“I think you’d better take your hands off of her and back the fuck up,” a low voice nearly growled. I blinked and looked up and up, behind the man, meeting Lucas’ steel colored eyes. They weren’t warm tonight. They were cold fire and silver flames, hard and angry. This was the man out of uniform that you didn’t want to meet in a dark alley. Unless you were me apparently because the sight of him in fierce protector mode relaxed my body.
The guy stupid enough to still be gripping me bruisingly removed his hands and backed up, “Hey, I didn’t know she was with anyone,” he lied.
Lucas took a step closer to the man, meeting him toe-to-toe, and glowering down at him. “Now that’s not true is it? She informed you she was seeing someone. That someone is me, fuckstick, and I don’t share. I also don’t like lousy men who put their hands on a woman without permission. That means I don’t like you. I’d suggest you call it a night, asshole, and get the fuck out of my vicinity.”
I breathed out shakily, watching the exchange. Why was that so hot? A minute ago I’d been terrified out of my mind, but watching Lucas stake a claim was doing something to me. I needed to see a therapist. My whole body was flushed and hot, watching him assert this protective side of him.
I blinked and the skeeze bag was halfway out the bar door and Lucas was turning to me, touching my arm softly, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
I looked up at his eyes, now the soft warm ones I’d seen before, and shook my head dazedly.
“No, he gripped my waist kinda hard though.” I rubbed the spot absentmindedly. Just as quick as the panic attack had started taking hold, it was gone. My hero.
Lucas growled angrily deep in his throat, watching my hand, before placing his over mine, and strangely, I didn’t shy away from his touch. It was gentle and sure, I felt safe with him.
“I should go after him and kick his fucking ass,” he growled more to himself than anything.
I raised an eyebrow, “That wouldn’t be setting a very good example, Officer,” I teased hoping to lighten the mood a little.
Lucas smirked while his eyes darkened. Not angry this time, but filled with another kind of heat. He stepped closer to me, into my space, pressing against me. But I wanted it this time. From this man.
“I couldn’t give a fuck if its not setting a good example,” he said, his voice low and breath hot against my ear, “No other man will ever put his hands on you again. Especially not where mine should be. And will be someday soon.”
My entire body heated and I was breathing shakily for an entirely different reason. This wasn’t fear. This was lust.
I wanted Lucas Marshall.
Seems like my libido had woken up. I licked my lips nervously as Lucas tracked the movement. Clearing his throat, he seemed to finally get a hold of himself, glancing around the crowded bar, and took a step back. I immediately missed the presence of his warmth.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, softly this time.
“I’m fine, Lucas. Thank you.”
