Page 64 of By A Thread

“Dom?”

His jaw flexed twice before he answered. “I’m attracted to you, Ally. Very attracted,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Oh, lord.

Sex hormones dumped into my bloodstream so quickly I felt lightheaded.

“Oh.” It was the only word I could get out as a wave of confusion and white-hot lust crushed me.

“Oh?” he repeated, looking annoyed.

“Give me a minute,” I told him. “I’m processing. I thought you hated me.”

“I told you before. I don’t hate you,” he said disdainfully. “I hate being attracted to you.”

And just like that those sex hormones turned into white-hot rage.

“You tracked me downto my third jobto tell me youhatebeing attracted to me?” I said the words slowly, making sure I was reiterating his point with just the right amount of “you son of a bitch” in my tone.

“What I mean to say is nothing is going to happen between us.”

“You’re damn right nothing is going to happen, you cocky, imbecilic ass. You think I’m so desperate that I’d say yes to a quick hate-fuck? That my self-respect is so low I’d throw myself at someone who doesn’tdeserveme?” I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to smash my burger in his face or stab him in the hand with a fork.

“Ally, you’re getting it wrong,” he said dryly.

“I’m getting it wrong, or you’re saying it wrong?”

He looked uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable.

“I just want to make it clear that I’m not going to get involved with you.”

The arrogance of this guy was almost laughable.I’d definitely go with the fork, I decided.

“First of all,boss. I decide who I get involved with. Not you. And right now, I’d rather sleep with literally any human in this bar than you. Dead last. That’s where you rank. Just because Ifoundyou physically attractive doesn’t mean I’d want to sleep with you.” I emphasized the past tense to drive my point home, ignoring the fact that that’s exactly what it had meant up until forty-five seconds ago when he opened his big, stupid mouth.

“Eat your dinner, Ally,” he said.

The look I shot him should have made his balls shrivel into raisins.

“Look,” I said. “You don’t get to be an asshole to my face when I’m on someone else’s clock. You can do it forty-odd hours a week at the office but not here.” I started to push my chair back, but he closed a hand over my wrist.

His grip felt like a shackle. A warm, hard, unbreakable shackle. And Ihatedthe fact that I liked it.

I stared down at the fingers ensnaring my wrist and felt like I’d entered another dimension where casual physical touch from a man who’d just insulted me on the basest level could render me speechless.

“Ally,” he said again. His voice was a rasp.

It was humiliating to know that the man could insult me to my face and my body would still want to see his naked. Had I lost my self-respect along with my life savings?

“This is coming out wrong,” he said.

“I’m not sure there’s a right way to tell someone that you’re attracted to them but the actual thought of sex with them makes you nauseated,” I shot back. “Are you the reincarnation of Mr. Darcy?”

His fingers squeezed harder.

“What I am fucking up over and over again is this: I want you to know that despite the fact that I find you interesting, intelligent, infuriating, and very, very attractive, I’m not going to pursue any kind of relationship with you. I want you to feel safe at work. I don’t want you to think that I’m going to drag you into a copy room and fuck you against office equipment. I don’t want coworkers whispering behind your back because you had the misfortune to catch my eye. I don’t want your reputation torn to shreds just because I wonder what you look like naked. And, yes, I do think about that. And, no, I shouldn’t be telling you that.”

He said all this without lessening the pressure of his fingers. As if the physical touch and the words melded into one message.Desire.