Scott freezes for a moment, his grip on your hand tightening involuntarily. Then, without taking his eyes off the other man, he growls low in his throat and shoves you behind him, effectively blocking the other patron from any further contact. "Back off, asshole,"
the stranger say "oh come on you could share" he move his hand in my pant, and put a finger in my ass wich make me moan a little "see, the bitch like it hahaha" i feel terribly embarassed
Scott's eyes narrow dangerously, but before he can respond, you feel a hand clamp down firmly on your shoulder. You turn to see who it is and find yourself staring up into the calm, unreadable face of the Longhorn Saloon's owner, Marshal Lawson.
"I think maybe it's time for you two to take this elsewhere," he says quietly, not taking his eyes off the other man. There's an unspoken threat in his words that even the most foolish person wouldn't dare ignore.