Page 70 of By A Thread

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Every once in a while, Funny Dominic snuck up on me to surprise and delight me. Thankfully the other ninety-eight percent of the time he was an insufferable ass.

“Please. We both know the more you learn about me, the faster you’ll be scampering off to pick out a diamond engagement ring big enough to lose an eye on.”

He rolled his eyes. “You wish.”

“I am a delightful person,” I insisted.

“You’re a delightful pain in my ass,” he shot back.

I drummed my fingers on the table in front of me. “Are you purposely keeping the table between us?”

“Yes,” he answered instantly.

“Is it for my protection or yours?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“You’re acting like neither one of us has any control,” I scoffed.

He scowled at me, then stood.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he rounded the table.

“Proving a point.”

Hastily, I got to my feet, but I didn’t get far because he was boxing me in against the table. So careful not to touch me. Yet there was no mistaking the buzz between us. My blood went hot, and I could hear my heartbeat ratcheting up the DEFCONs.

“Is DEFCON One or Five worse?” I asked in a squeak.

“One. Now tell me you don’t see the problem, Ally,” he said dryly.

I was more interested in feeling the problem… until I glanced down. I couldn’t help myself. He was visibly hard. Like “stuck a kielbasa in his pants” visibly hard.

He was looking down too. But not at the outline of his cock. No, his gaze was locked on my stupid, lack-of-self-respect nipples that were saluting him through my shirt.

The door was closed, but the graphics team was due any minute. Anyone could walk in and see us like this.

“This is the problem,” he insisted, his voice a rasp.

“That’s a huge problem,” I agreed, still looking at his erection. “It looks painful.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he growled. “This is what happens when we’re too close.”

“So how do you propose we get to know each other without getting too close?” I asked. I sounded like I’d just climbed all forty-three floors at a dead run. One tiny step forward and my diamond hard nipples would connect with his chest. His hard-on with my stomach.

He was looming over me, but rather than threatening, it felt intimate, careful, almost safe. Like I wanted to be exactly here with exactly him.

I really needed to stop consuming dairy products. This had to be some kind of hormonal effect from too much glorious cheese.

I had a swift vision of Dom placing me on the—hopefully reinforced—glass table at my back and sliding his hands under my skirt and slowly, slowly, peeling the underwear down my legs.

My vision started to go gray around the edges, and I took in a shaky breath. His eyes sharpened to a crystalline, icy blue. It felt as though a storm was brewing in the sliver of space between us.

“Completely inappropriate question,” I said. “If you were going to touch me right now, where would you start?”

His exhale was a growl. “Your hair.”

I blinked. “My hair?”