By a Thread

by Lucy Score

“Take it outside, buddy,” she said in a throaty, no-nonsense voice. Buddy?

“It’s cold. I’ll be a minute,” I told her briskly, leaving no room for debate. “I didn’t create the weather or the phone policy. Out. Side.” She said it like I was a truculent three-year-old

“That was a work call,” I said icily. “Isn’t that nice that you can hold down a job and be that rude?”

“Sooner or later, you’re going to have to give up on the hope that I’m a human being with a heart of gold underneath it all.” “Never,” she insisted with a saucy smile.

“Shouldn’t someone your age have a real job by now, Maleficent? Because obviously you’re not good at this one.”

“I do have a few questions.” She peered over the frames at me. “Yes?” “Can Charm—your son fire me?” I asked. Her smile was feline. “No. Dominic can’t fire you.” “Okay, then. Do I have to be nice to him?” She leaned back in her chair, considering. “I think you should have the relationship you feel most comfortable having with my son.”

“You can’t be that rude to customers and then be surprised when you’re called out on it.” “And you can’t be that rude to people and not get called out on it,” she countered. “You started it,” I snarled. “And you thought you were above the rules.” Okay. She may have had the thinnest, most microscopic point.

“You know, you’d be a lot prettier if you smiled once in a while,” she mused, fluttering her lashes. No wonder women hated it when men said that.

I didn’t realize until a makeup artist gaped up at me and then walked straight into a glass door when I passed her that I was actually smiling.

It was Ally’s lunch break, but I hadn’t seen her in the cafeteria. Not that I was looking. Or that I’d checked her calendar in the system for her schedule. Okay, so maybe I had.

“Just keep being your belligerent self, and sooner or later, my mother will realize she made a terrible mistake.” “I don’t know about that. She kept you around.”

“Hey, Mal, why don’t you try sexually harassing men on your own time?” Ally piped up, leaning over her wall. “Some of us are trying to eat here, and your praying mantis routine is nauseating.”

“That was a close one,” Ally observed, taking another bite of banana. “She almost took your balls with her.” “Yeah. After ripping your face off to get to them.” She blinked at me and then snickered.

But the street view of her home address—yeah, okay, so I’d looked up her address. I wasn’t happy about that either—showed a family home in a nice neighborhood in a decent commuter town in Jersey.

Harry was silent, and I looked up. He was sniffing the air. “You smell that?” he asked. I knew where this was going. “I do not.” “I do. It’s strong. Here. Let me waft it toward you,” he said, flicking his hands at me. “That’s the smell of bullshit.”

“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.”

“Never in the history of my adult life have I been so overcome with lust that I couldn’t control myself. And I’m willing to bet the same is true for you,” I guessed. “Don’t overestimate my control or underestimate your appeal, Ally.” And just like that, I was back in Put Your Dick in Me Town. “Geez, Dom.” “I’m serious,” he said. “I’m not putting any responsibility on you. But I am infatuated with you, and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about… things that I’m not going to repeat.”

“How do you get home from here?” he asked. “Train,” I said, taking a bite. He reached for his wallet. “I’d rather you take a cab.” “No.” “No?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe I was so stupid, so impertinent. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not yours, Dom. You don’t get to worry about me or play protector. You’re my boss. I’m your employee. Unless you’re forking up cab fare or Uber credits for all the admins on staff, the answer is no. No special treatment. No extracurricular sex. No seduction attempts. No flirting. The air is cleared.” He stared at me a long beat. Those eyes impossibly sad. It’s what he wanted. So why did the man look so damn miserable?

“Oh, I get it loud and clear. And just what exactly will you be doing while I’m not dating? Fucking your way through every woman in Manhattan who doesn’t work for you?” He was back in my space again, and I could feel the pulse of his anger. It matched my own. “I’ll be doing what I’ve been doing since I met you,” he rasped. “What’s that?” “Fucking my goddamn hand and wishing it was you.” And there went my knees, buckling under me.

“I have no fucking control around you.” To prove his point, he thrust against me. “From where I sit, your control has been annoyingly admirable,” I whispered

“Does this mean you’re speaking to me again?” I asked. She didn’t even stop. Simply raised a bandaged middle finger over her shoulder. “Nope. Get back to work. Your pouty time is cutting into my to-do list.”

“Ally.” He whispered my name. It was like a caress. I shook my head. “Don’t do this, Dom. Don’t be nice. Don’t ask me questions. I’m hanging on by a thread here.”

“I’m not looking for anything,” I insisted, nerves getting the best of me. “I wasn’t looking for you. But I still found you.” “What are you saying?” I squeaked. “I’m saying I found you. And I’m not fighting it anymore. You’re mine.”

“You matter to me, Ally. Do you get that? I care about you. And yet you insist on not taking what I can offer you. I need you safe. I need you warm and happy and fed and rested. Goddammit, Ally. You are killing me with this stupid pride.” She was staring up at me wide-eyed and dazed. “You can’t make me leave you here. You have to understand that, Ally.” “Why are you so mad?” she whispered. “Why? Because I live in a three-bedroom townhouse with all the heat and food and fucking solid floors I could ever want. And this whole time you’ve been here. Your front door doesn’t even lock.”

“So the sex was good. That doesn’t mean we’re⁠—” “In a relationship. That’s exactly what it means.” “Oh, no you don’t, Dominic Russo. You can’t boss me into a relationship. I don’t have time. I don’t want to be in a relationship!” “Well, tough shit. Because we’re in one.” “This is not how relationships work! You don’t just tell someone you’re in a relationship. That’s why restraining orders exist!”

“Oh, Ally. How do you think he would feel if he saw you living like this? If he knew how hard you were working and how little you were eating? You tell me what would be worse for him.” “He’s never going to know,” she said firmly. “So if you’re not going to tell him that, why do you have to tell him if I help?” Ha! I had her there. It was her own pride getting in the way right now, not her father’s. “I…” Clearly she didn’t know what to say in the face of my flawless male logic.

“Dominic, you’re not my winning lottery ticket. This can’t be based on you being some kind of benefactor to poor little old me.” She probably didn’t mean it in the way I took it, but I was looking to stay pissed off. “I’m so sorry you don’t think I’m a prize,” I snapped. “Stop deliberately misunderstanding me,” she said. “You know damn well I meant that I don’t consider you to be my very own ATM. I don’t want your money. I want you. I want an us. And for there to be an us, I want a say.”

Next time. There was that flutter in my chest again. “Are you kidding? It was perfection. How many people get to have a napcation?”

On the next slick slide, he kept going, the tip of his dick parting my ass cheeks, pausing to tease me at that opening. “Not without lube, buddy.” I shuddered the words out. The fact that he wanted to touch me everywhere made me excited about being touched everywhere. “And remember, I get my shot at you.” “Fuck, Ally,” he groaned. “Yes,” I agreed. “Fuck Ally. Now.”

Even Buddy couldn’t look me in the eye. Buddy. The nicest human being in the world thought I was Satan. He’d picked up his brown bag lunch the second I pulled out a chair at his table. “Have a nice day,” he whispered as he left.

“Everyone has baggage, Russo. Most of us are just smart enough not to hurl full-sized suitcases at the people we love.” He patted the garment bag. “Here’s your custom fucking vest Ally asked me to make for you. Hope it doesn’t even come close to making up for losing the girl.”