Page 80 of By A Thread

“Tough shit. Spill it, Maleficent, or I’m not letting you out of here.”

He’d keep me there, boxed in without actually touching me, all weekend just to prove a point.

“Fine,” I said. “I might be more attracted to you than I thought I was.”

“And?” he said arrogantly.

“And I don’t love seeing you on a date with a really, really,reallybeautiful, smart woman.”

Those blue eyes weren’t cold now. There was a victorious fire burning in them. And I was acutely aware that I was in immediate danger.

“I think I need to get laid. It’s been too long,” I confessed in a rush. “There’s some kind of weird build-up of sexual energy, and if I don’t let it out, I’m going to Mount St. Helens on you or some other innocent bystander.”

He leaned in, waaaaaay too close for it to be anything but a come on. I stood stock-still as he traced his nose over my cheek and jaw. “Good,” he whispered.

“Good?” I gasped. I really wanted to hate him. But apparently my current priority was lusting after him.

“I want you to suffer the way I suffer,” he said, his breath hot against my ear.

My heart was trying to blast its way out of my chest. I didn’t know where the organ had gotten actual sticks of dynamite, but that’s what was happening. My insides had turned to lava… or magma, whichever simile was most appropriate. And I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter between my legs. “That’s not healthy, Charming. Friends don’t want friends to explode.”

“We’re not friends,” he said.

“What are we?” I asked. I was actually physically shaking from being so close and yet not close enough to the man.

“Feels more like enemies,” he said. “One of us has to win, and one of us has to lose.”

He didn’t want to want me. But if he had to, he wanted me to suffer with him. Ass.

That felt accurate, but I was pheromone-drunk enough to wonder if we could both get what we wanted if we got naked once together. Enemies with benefits.

My skin was on fire. My little red thong was sopping wet. And my inner walls were having some kind of seizure. If he didn’t back up or put some part of his body inside mine right now, I didn’t think any court in the country would hold me responsible for my actions.

I reached up, and we both watched as I placed my palms on his chest. He was so warm, so solid. So obnoxiously sexy.

“You need to quit, Ally.”

I dragged my eyes away from his chest. “Excuse me?”

“Quit your job,” he said slowly. “If you don’t work there, we can do something about this.”

“You want me to quit my job so we can fuck each other out of our systems?”

So this was what an aneurysm felt like.

I’d always wondered.

His nostrils flared, and I swear his erection grew another half inch in diameter and flexed in his pants. “That’s exactly what I want.”

I was angry now. Incredibly turned on but very, very,veryangry.

“We’re both on dates, and you’re telling me that if I quit my job—a job that is essential to my family’s survival—that you’ll be happy to fuck me,” I summarized.

“I’ll find you another job,” he said, ignoring the being on dates part.

The smug, problem-solving balls on this guy.I wanted to kick him in them with the pointiest stilettos I could find.

“I can’t afford to start over again.” I kept my voice low, but it shook with emotion. I hadnothingleft in my account. I was hanging on by a thread until payday Friday. The beer on the bar? That was being paid for by lowering the thermostat to fifty degrees for the next two days. And Dominic Russo thought he had the right to demand that I give upmyemployment forhim. “Besides, what makes you think you’re worth it?” I seethed.