scathing glare. Then she looked back at Mara with a smirk. The smirk
said, I’ll take care of this.
“Excuse me,” Tia said to the
man, very loudly. “Get your hand off my girlfriend’s thigh before I break your
damn fingers.”
The hand extracted itself from
her thigh. The man laughed. This was so not good.
Mara winced as the man sidled
up on her free side and slid his arm around her waist. He acted familiar with
her like they were old fuck-buddies. She shivered in disgust at the
thought—gross.
“I don’t think she’s your
girlfriend. Not after the way she smiled at me. Why don’t you give us a few
minutes together so we can get to know each other?” Warm, moist, beer-infected
breath panted across Mara’s cheek. She cringed, pulling away.
She and the man soon got into a
fight of sorts. She didn’t know how else to describe it. She squirmed and
pushed and pinched at the man to free herself, but he was so big. He laughed at
her and tightened his arm around her waist. When he reached up and squeezed her
breast, she actually let out a garbled shout.
This got some attention from
the people around them. They looked alert at the guy, giving him disgusted
looks but no one stepped in to help. Mara wasn’t even sure if anyone could.
Getting angrier by the second, feeling almost claustrophobic in his beefy arms,
Mara slammed her elbow down into his gut. She hit him hard and he grunted but
didn’t release her.
Panic started to set in fast.
This wasn’t fun. She’d been in situations like this before…with Corey. This
hadn’t been fun to begin with, but he wouldn’t stop squeezing her goddamn boob.
She just wanted his filthy touch off of her.
“Tia!”
Tia stepped forward and slapped
the man so hard across the face she was sure you could hear it on the moon. The
man yelled—a wordless battle cry of anger—and lurched after Tia with a sloppy,
open-hand meant to grab her.
Mara simply acted. There were
no more thoughts, only action.
She shoved the man as hard as
she could putting all of her weight behind it. Normally he might not have budged
so much as rocked on his feet, but he was slobbering drunk. So when she pushed,
he toppled backward, slamming into their table, spilling their drinks and
shattering their cups as he busted his ass on the floor.
For a long, very quiet moment,
Mara could only stare down at the man. He looked stunned. The music had
stepped. No one really seemed to be moving. Except Mara’s heart was racing so
fast. The man acted so quickly, she wasn’t prepared. He jumped to his feet with
surprising agility. Then he swung his beefy arm, palm open.
It happened so fast, she stood
there stunned. He’d slapped her, hard, across the face. Pain exploded in her
cheek with an uncomfortable, stinging heat. It fucking hurt. It felt like he’d
hit her with a bat and not just an open hand. People gasped, or maybe that was
Tia. She didn’t know or care right then.
It didn’t matter because
suddenly someone stepped between her and the man.
It was Jace Mathews. And he
looked positively livid.
“Did you hit her?” Jace asked
the man.
The man didn’t answer, was too
nervous. Jace stepped into the man’s face, so close they could kiss. Jace was
huge, not quite as tall as the man, but where the other man was fat and beefy,
Jace was hard and strong. He was also a professional.
“I asked you a question. Did
you hit her?”
The man stood up, shaking his
arms out like he was about to throw down. Mara grabbed Jace’s shirt. “Please,
let’s just go. I just want to get out of here.”
She thought she saw some of the
tension leave Jace’s shoulders. She thought he was about to back away and take
her home. That’s all she wanted to do after today—go home and take a long bath
and just try to forget for a little while that her life was in the shitter at
the moment.
But then Tia snapped. “He
grabbed her ass too!”
Fuck. Any lessening of tension
in Jace vanished like it never
said, I’ll take care of this.
“Excuse me,” Tia said to the
man, very loudly. “Get your hand off my girlfriend’s thigh before I break your
damn fingers.”
The hand extracted itself from
her thigh. The man laughed. This was so not good.
Mara winced as the man sidled
up on her free side and slid his arm around her waist. He acted familiar with
her like they were old fuck-buddies. She shivered in disgust at the
thought—gross.
“I don’t think she’s your
girlfriend. Not after the way she smiled at me. Why don’t you give us a few
minutes together so we can get to know each other?” Warm, moist, beer-infected
breath panted across Mara’s cheek. She cringed, pulling away.
She and the man soon got into a
fight of sorts. She didn’t know how else to describe it. She squirmed and
pushed and pinched at the man to free herself, but he was so big. He laughed at
her and tightened his arm around her waist. When he reached up and squeezed her
breast, she actually let out a garbled shout.
This got some attention from
the people around them. They looked alert at the guy, giving him disgusted
looks but no one stepped in to help. Mara wasn’t even sure if anyone could.
Getting angrier by the second, feeling almost claustrophobic in his beefy arms,
Mara slammed her elbow down into his gut. She hit him hard and he grunted but
didn’t release her.
Panic started to set in fast.
This wasn’t fun. She’d been in situations like this before…with Corey. This
hadn’t been fun to begin with, but he wouldn’t stop squeezing her goddamn boob.
She just wanted his filthy touch off of her.
“Tia!”
Tia stepped forward and slapped
the man so hard across the face she was sure you could hear it on the moon. The
man yelled—a wordless battle cry of anger—and lurched after Tia with a sloppy,
open-hand meant to grab her.
Mara simply acted. There were
no more thoughts, only action.
She shoved the man as hard as
she could putting all of her weight behind it. Normally he might not have budged
so much as rocked on his feet, but he was slobbering drunk. So when she pushed,
he toppled backward, slamming into their table, spilling their drinks and
shattering their cups as he busted his ass on the floor.
For a long, very quiet moment,
Mara could only stare down at the man. He looked stunned. The music had
stepped. No one really seemed to be moving. Except Mara’s heart was racing so
fast. The man acted so quickly, she wasn’t prepared. He jumped to his feet with
surprising agility. Then he swung his beefy arm, palm open.
It happened so fast, she stood
there stunned. He’d slapped her, hard, across the face. Pain exploded in her
cheek with an uncomfortable, stinging heat. It fucking hurt. It felt like he’d
hit her with a bat and not just an open hand. People gasped, or maybe that was
Tia. She didn’t know or care right then.
It didn’t matter because
suddenly someone stepped between her and the man.
It was Jace Mathews. And he
looked positively livid.
“Did you hit her?” Jace asked
the man.
The man didn’t answer, was too
nervous. Jace stepped into the man’s face, so close they could kiss. Jace was
huge, not quite as tall as the man, but where the other man was fat and beefy,
Jace was hard and strong. He was also a professional.
“I asked you a question. Did
you hit her?”
The man stood up, shaking his
arms out like he was about to throw down. Mara grabbed Jace’s shirt. “Please,
let’s just go. I just want to get out of here.”
She thought she saw some of the
tension leave Jace’s shoulders. She thought he was about to back away and take
her home. That’s all she wanted to do after today—go home and take a long bath
and just try to forget for a little while that her life was in the shitter at
the moment.
But then Tia snapped. “He
grabbed her ass too!”
Fuck. Any lessening of tension
in Jace vanished like it never
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