NY Legal Ch. 02

{Been in jail for 7 years.}

[Where are we going?]

{How you feel about Italian?}

[No place with any of your mobster friends.]"

She laughed out loud. "How long have you been working on this monologue?"

He continued. {I can't promise there won't be any mobsters but you don't want to go to "Il Toscas?"}

[I'd love to! I hear the food is phenomenal!]

{So you're OK with mobsters if the food is good?}

[Absolutely!]

Then I walk you home, kiss goodnight and grope your ass right quick.

THIRD NIGHT, same same same. Then I walk you home, kiss goodnight and grope your ass right quick. And - you - say [You wanna Netflix and chill?]

...And that works for you?"

She licked her lips in thought before nodding emphatically. "Yes."

Michael sighed. "Look. You've made the smart decision your whole life."

She shook her head. "That is not true. I did a lot stupid crap as a kid."

"Fine." He shrugged. "You've made the smart decision your whole ADULT life." He smiled.

"That's better."

"You dated the right guys. You married the right guy. You had a child and kept your career. And you still wound up alone." He watched as her smile faded into something somber. "Just once in your ADULT life, counselor. Do something stupid." She couldn't stop the laugh that burst forth that time. Then her whole body locked up as she gasped. Her left hand quickly grabbed his right wrist. She couldn't grab his hand because he had slipped it inside her panties and was rubbing her clitoris. "Too fast, maybe?" She squealed.

He gripped the back of her neck with his left and pulled her close. "Let's just relax a bit. Alright?" She nodded. "There's no reason for you to be this tense. So just breath. Nice and slow. Hm?"

She nodded some more. "Uh huh."

"Go ahead and put your hand back on the desk... Good. Now lean back on your elbows and try to get comfy."

"Right. Comfy. Got it."

"Breath, smart ass." She growled at him. He began to tug her pants down and off. Then her panties. Dropping them on the cabinet behind him with her slacks. He heard her gasp as he slipped his fingers inside of her. He slid over her pubic bone to that soft spot just behind the clitoris and began to rub. Bridget watched him intently as he manipulated her to what felt like heaven. Her hips were moving more and more as he leaned down, nudged her bra out f the way and took her left nipple into his mouth.

"Michael!" She pleaded just before her whole body rocked with the orgasm that followed. She collapsed on her desk out of breath.

He loosened the belt on his pants with his left hand and noticed she propped herself back up on her elbows, staring at his crotch as he unbuttoned his slacks. "Don't worry. It's really not that impressive."

"Oh! Well, in that case I really have to go. I'vvvvve uhhhh," She was glancing around the room like she was looking for an escape. "...got this thing I have to do for theeeese uhhhh," She suddenly looked back at him. "NUNS! Yeah." By this point his slacks were unzipped and he was pulling his cock out of his briefs. "JESUS!"

"Too small?" He asked as he slapped her right thigh a few times with the thing.

"Um, wow! UH. Mike, heh, I said I was sorry, man. I mean, come on."

He was rubbing it up and down her slit. "Now, now. It's not porno crazy huge."

"Uh huh."

"I promise it'll only hurt for a few hours."

"What?" She looked at him. Then her mouth gaped and all expression left her face as he began to slowly enter her.

He gripped her behind the neck again with his left hand and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. "Easy now. Easy."

She nodded as she felt another inch creep in. Contrary to what she claimed earlier, it HAD been a while and the last one, was not THIS one. She licked her lips and looked down at what he was doing to her. "Heh heh ha hrm."

"What's so funny?' He asked softly.

She shook her head. "Almost halfway there."

"Ah." He gripped her hips and pulled back a bit before thrusting in gently. He wanted her relaxed so he began a slow easy fuck with what he had in her. After several thrust he watched as she closed her eyes and began to move her hips to meet his. When he eased in another inch he was rewarded with a whiney moan so he maintained for a several more thrusts. When her head rolled back he slipped in just a -bit- more. Which brought her head up with eyes open as she gasped and placed her right hand on his stomach. "Too much?" He asked without stopping.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Uh. Yeah! Immensely!" He smiled.

"-Ah. Ah-. I mean -mmmm- this is your revenge. Isn't it? -Uh-. I was worried about you, -oh... fuuuu-, seeking revenge and this is it. -Yes. Yeah. Ah-. You're going to kill me with this thin..." She gasped and moaned as he slipped more in on his next thrust.

"Yes. You have found me out, Counselor. A large, well built Irishman with a big dick wants to fuck you to death in revenge for the seven years you cost him in prison." He nodded. "Now, there's a Matlock episode you won't see."

"-Mmm. Uh. Uh-. Why do you have to joke at a time like this? -Mmmm-."

He leaned down and kissed her before whispering. "Because I'm trying very hard not to cum." Then he kissed her again and pulled her close, He continued his slow grinding and it was not long before he was butting up against her cervix.

"Mike? You can't get through that."

"I know."

"Only semen gets through that." She gritted out.

"I know." He tried not to laugh as he kissed her again. He was pretty happy with himself. He had managed to keep it toge... Much too soon for his liking, she buried her face in his neck and clutched on tight as her whole body shook beneath him. Her spasmed groans mimicked her hips as they wracked against Michael while she orgasmed. [That was all he could take] as he pulled her close and thrust hard into her time after time as his own climax caused him to forget everything but moving his cock. He launched seven years worth of "special reserve jailhouse aged to perfection" jizm at her cervix. He had worked so hard not to hurt her before, but as he held her tight he was pretty sure he had dented the woman. He wasn't sure how long they had been done before he realized his hips were still slowly pumping into her as if he still had shots to fire. She grunted with each impact. He managed to stop himself eventually. He kept holding her tight.

Several minutes later, "You're still here." She commented weakly.

He pulled back far enough to give her a small kiss. "Yeah. You still owe me dinner."

"I - owe - you - dinner?" He nodded. "After what you just did I think you are buying dinner."

"Long as you're there, I don't care." He kissed her again. "You ready to get out of here?"

"I am but, reach over and grab me the Kleenexes."

"Oh, is this gonna be the ugly part?"

"Well, yes, Michael. Because there are consequences for your actions."

He placed his elbows on each side of her and interlaced his fingers to rest his chin while he listened to her. "Do tell."

She hit him on the shoulder. "Hand me the tissues and get off of me."

He laughed and did as she asked. Thankfully she kept a few packs of baby wipes in her office for times when she had a witness who brought a child. Parents always run out at the worst times. Plus the darn things are just handy to have around. The wipes helped them to get back to a more civilized feel before putting their clothes back on.

"You want help with your panties?"

"No! You just focus on you." He laughed. "...How did you know I'd give in?"

"I didn't." He answered as he buttoned his shirt. " I KNEW you'd go to dinner with me. That's all." He saw her smile. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I was just worried I was predictable or something."

"Ah. No, you are not predictable. If that helps."

"You know you scared the crap out of me when you just appeared in my office like that?"

He'd just put the tie back around his neck. He stepped over to her as she zipped up her slacks. "I am sorry. But if I hadn't done that, you never would've gone to dinner with me.

"I probably would have."

He shook his head and pulled her close. "I don't doubt you believe that, but I think the only reason you're saying that is due to you just having sex with me." He smiled.

"No." She shook her head seriously before looking at him. "...When you were released I was so afraid you were going to..." She shrugged. "I don't know." She dropped her gaze to the floor.

Michael stepped closer and lifted her chin. "What was it you were afraid of?"

She shook her head again. "I don't know... This, maybe?" She motioned with her hands towards the office, implying the sex act they'd just finished." He looked incredulous. "I knew what you wanted. You'd made it clear enough from the moment I met you."

"Yeah and you always gave me that look. The "I do not appreciate being gawked at like a piece of meat, Mr. McKean." He said in his horrible Bridget voice as he pulled on his jacket and coat.

She smiled. "That was my Catholic school training but it's not what I was thinking."

He suddenly had an interested/sleazy grin on his face. "Wh... What were you thinking?"

She stood up. "That it's time for dinner." She walked to her coat stand and removed her wool trench coat.

"No, seriously. What was it?" he asked as he finished up his tie.

"Where are you taking me to eat?" She asked as she donned her knit cap and gloves.

"My God. That's an ugly hat."

"It matches the gloves." She "royal queen" waved both hands at him as if to show off the gloves.

"Yeah, they're ugly too. Now, what was it you thought when I gawked at you that first time?"

She had walked over to her purse and put it on her shoulder before coming back to him and beginning to push him out of her office. "It made me hot. OK?"

"Yesssss."

Bridget shook her head again as she locked her office. "Where - are - we - going - to - eat?"

"Santini's." He smiled obviously still gloating over what he felt was a success of sleazery.

"The food truck?"

"GUT Truck. It's been around too long to be called a food truck. It predates all of that."

"Well that's too bad because we can't go there. We can go to Rosco's?" She suggested.

"The competition across the street? Not gonna happen."

"Oh, it's gonna happen because I can't eat at Santini's."

"Why? They got a warrant out for ya or somethin?"

"No. But my family eats at Rosco's. Always has."

"Not tonight." He commented.

"Yes, tonight. ESPECIALLY tonight. All I need is for some jerk to take a picture of me and post it on Instagram. And then, my Grandfather of all people will see it and suddenly there's nothing else to talk about for the whole year." She continued in her best Grandpa Fonta voice. "Oh, you were too good for Rosco's I see. Couldn't let Micheal take you there. Too embarrassed were ya? Not up to Mike's standards I guess. Pride goeth before a fall, Bridget."

"Wow... That sounds really stressful." He commented as they walked down the large marble staircase to the bottom floor. "You know, a good Santini's roast beef sandwich should help with that."

She threw her arms out to the side. "We are not eating there!"

"We totally are." He smiled.

This argument continued for the six blocks it took them to get to Santini's where they were only about fifteen people back in line.

"Why can't we just cross the street? Rosco's is RIGHT THERE." She motioned.

He hadn't stopped smiling since they left her building. "Because I promised myself that when I got out of prison, I'd at least try Santini's. I think it's stupid that I've lived in this city my whole life and I've never had it."

"What?"

"Yeah, my dad always took us to Rosco's. It's a family tradition." He nodded.

She rolled her head a bit as if she was trying to get rid of a terrible pain. "Ahhhh... Why didn't you just say that?" She asked when she looked back at him.

"And missed all of this?" He motioned to the street behind them as if there argument was held in still shots there. She shook her head and looked away from him. He made her shake her head a lot, he realized. He could tell she thought he was insufferable. He seemed to have that effect on her. He liked it. He pulled her close and kissed her temple. He tried to kiss lower but she shied away. "What?" He whispered.

"There are people around."

"So?"

"So, you just told all of New York you were going to, you know, just this morning." She looked self conscious again. "And now..? They'll know."

"Who cares what they know?"

"I do. I mean..." She looked at him. "You don't think I'm a slut. Do you?"

"No." He stated emphatically. "You're a beautiful, intelligent, classy woman." She nodded before he pulled her closer. "You just need to relax a little."

Soon, they had purchased their sandwiches and drinks and found a spot on a low stone wall to sit and eat. There was quite a crowd around these two old trucks even at this time of night. Mike and Bridget were laughing and talking when suddenly there was a dazzling flash. Then another. Michael looked over to see a man with a digital 35mm camera taking pictures of them.

"Brother, what are you doin?" The man didn't answer as he took another picture. "Boy, if I have to put down my food and come over there, it will not go well for you."

The man suddenly looked like a child who realized he was in trouble. "Sorry, Mr. McKean."

Bridget couldn't help but notice that many of the couples who had been sitting near them were now keenly interested in what was going on. She did not doubt they caught McKean's name when the man said it. "Michael?" She whispered while looking at just how many people were watching them.

He glanced at the crowd. "Nothing to be done for it now." He answered before turning back to the photographer. "Come here." The man approached slowly. He was younger than she'd thought at first. Maybe in his early twenties. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Well, it's big news, sir. Miss. Fonta has been the most eligible bachelorette in New York for years now. The society pages have always run pieces on when is she going to find someone and so on and so on. And YOU. You're the current hot topic. These photos are huge. People are gonna want to see these."

"Is this really how you want to make your living?"

The man had an incredulous expression on his face. "You mean bringing the city the news they WANT to see of two beautiful, smart people enjoying each other's company as opposed to the two deaths on the tollway this morning that ended the life of a thirteen year old girl and an army veteran?.. Yes. This is exactly what I want to do."

"Okay, he got me there. " Mike said as he glanced at Bridget.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did not see that comin." She nodded.

"Let me see your camera." The photographer stepped away. "Now, when have I ever broken someone's stuff out of pettiness?" The man shrugged. "Gimme the damn camera." He held out his hand. The young man relented. Michael took the camera and scrolled through the shots. "The last few are terrible. It almost looks like someone [flashed us with a camera!]" He said loudly as he looked at the man. "But this first one with the flash?" He showed Bridget.

"Oh, that is a good shot."

"-That one-, is your money maker. Two people laughing and enjoying dinner." He handed the camera back to the kid. "That's what people will want to see."

"Thank you, Mr. McKean."

"Yeah. Yeah. Now, you got what you needed so get the hell outta here and let us finish our dinner in peace. Huh?" With that, the photographer wished them both a good night and left. Michael turned to Bridget, "See? That wasn't so bad."

"No. It really wasn't. I even liked the photo." She said with an almost surprised shrug.

"Of course, there's no way he's throwing that up on snapchat or whatever. He probably works for MSNBC or some such."

"Oh, God." She said as she dropped her face into her hands. When she looked up she was staring into the street. "That's it. A year of, 'How was Santini's, Bridget?" She ended in her best Grandpa voice.

"A little dry actually." Michael whispered.

She whispered back, "Thank you. I didn't want to say anything because I thought it was just me."

"No, I think my father ate at both before he brought the family to Rosco's."

"Probably." She laughed.

Just then a couple not far from them collected their things to leave. As they passed the young man said, "This is your idea of taking her to dinner?"

Michael looked at him. "How bout you get the hell outta here before I show you what my idea of breakfast is!" Bridget could hear several people laugh as the man raised his hands in supplication as he smiled and fled with his lady. "You ready to get moving?"

"Yeah." She nodded. It only took a moment to bag up their things. "Where to?" She asked as they stood up and began to stroll down the sidewalk.

"Your place or mine?"

"Michael?" She whined.

"Bridget?" He whined back.

"I can't... Everyone'll know." She shrugged.

"Bridget." He sounded almost exasperated as he held her face in his hands and pulled her close. "Let em know." He said just before pulling her in for a kiss. Her hands slowly wrapped around him as his hands dropped to pull her tight against him. She was enjoying the kiss... Until she heard the slow build of the crowd cheering and applauding around them. She broke the kiss before resting her forehead on his chest in humiliation. Shaking her head once again, he noticed.

"Come on." She said as she pulled him away down the street.

"Don't trust him girl! You know he's no good!" She heard a woman yell just before the crowd exploded in laughter.

"Did you drive here?" She asked suddenly.

"Um, no. I took the subway. Why?"

"My car's in the garage at work."

They walked back to her car in silence and drove to her apartment. It wasn't until they got to her door that they spoke again. Bridget put the key in the lock and stopped.

After a long pause Michael asked, "Are you alright?"

She shook her head and looked at him. "I've never brought a man home before. Not here anyway."

"OK." He nodded. "Let's be practical about it then." She nodded. "Would you rather let me in?.. Or wake up alone?"

"Want some coffee?" She beamed as she unlocked the door and opened it.

"I would love some coffee." He smiled as he followed her in.

Several minutes later as they were drinking coffee in her kitchen, "Soooo when you said 'coffee' you MEANT actual coffee." Michael stated as he took a sip.

Bridget nodded. "Mm hm. That is what that means."

"Ah." He nodded. "Because most people when they say 'would you like to come in for some coffee' they mean sex. And when the other person says 'yes' they just go inside and have the sex." He stated before taking another sip.

"No" She shook her head. "Surely they must at least have a cup to keep up the pretense of the whole thing?"

He shook his head. "Not really. Because, who drinks coffee at 10:30 in the evening?"

"I do." She shrugged before taking another sip. "I'm sorry." She suddenly looked ashamed. "I was enjoying your company so much I keep forgetting you've been locked away. Did you want to go to the bedroom? Am I ruining this for you?"

"No. Don't be silly." He shook his head. "I do want to go to the bedroom but I am enjoying this too. If I needed it right now then I'd walk over to you and grab you."

"Oh." She said a little breathless with a smile.

When he saw her rub her thighs together a few times his suspicion that she liked the idea was confirmed. Michael set down his coffee and walked the few feet to her before pulling her cup away and setting it on the bar next to his. He gently pulled her close and took her mouth in a deep sloppy kiss. He pulled back a few inches to look at her. "You have no idea what I'm about to do to you. Do you?"