By a Thread

by Lucy Score

“I have this thing,” she began tentatively. My breath stopped. I didn’t want the hammering of my heart to drown out her next words. When she didn’t continue, I merely stared at her. “For vests,” she said, eyeing mine. “But I’m not your type,” I shot back. She smirked. “You’re only slightly less not my type in a vest. But don’t worry, Dom. I promise to resist you.”

“Middle finger gif,” Harry coughed into his hand.