Page 79 of By A Thread
Austen picked up the thread of the history of the greatest tragedy of all time with his proposal at their college graduation.
I tried to focus. But when Dom picked up his drink, he kept his other hand on the back of my chair like he was claiming it. Claiming me.
The lightning feeling was back. Only now, it felt like the bolt was heading straight for me, and when it struck me, my head was going to explode. I didn’t understand what this feeling was. All I knew was that I didn’t have the time to explore it or the will to survive it. Iwantedhis hand there. I wanted him crowding me. I wanted those blue eyes locked on mine and those firm, stern lips moving against my ear as he told me he wanted to take me home.
I wanted to breathe.
“Would you excuse me for a minute?” I asked, cutting off Austen mid-opine.
“Oh. Uh. Sure.” He blinked his way out of his walk down memory lane.
I slid off my stool and had to press my entire body against Dominic’s side to get out. I didn’t bother apologizing, just made a beeline for the restroom. It was down a long hall, and at the end of it, just past the ladies’ room, was an alcove that led to an emergency exit.
I’d made a logical claim. That I was capable of controlling myself around the man. That we could be friendly, not flirty. And yet here I was, trembling with sexual frustration in a bathroom hallway while the man I couldn’t stop thinking about was on a date with the most beautiful human being in the entire universe.
What. The. Hell. Was. Wrong. With. Me?
Did I really just need to get laid? Would that uncoil this tightness in me? Would a few orgasms render me immune to him?
“Are you okay?”
I jumped and turned.
Dominic was staring at me like he couldn’t decide whether to chop me into pieces or pull my hair and French kiss me.
“No, I’m not okay!”
“What’s wrong? Did that twerp say something? Do something?”
“Austen?” I laughed. “No. He’s fine. He’s still in love with his ex-wife.”
“Then what’s wrong?” he demanded, looking like he wanted to fix whatever it was.
“This is stupid, Dom.”
“So it’s Dom again?” He took a step closer, and that electricity fired up inside again.
“Shut up. I panicked.”
“Why?” He had a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“For starters, I think I might be in love with your date. She’s stunning.”
“She is,” he stupidly agreed. “She’s a human rights lawyer.”
So much for hurling fast food bags at bikers.
“You should get back to your date,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
When I didn’t answer, he took my arm and drew me into the alcove. The emergency sign burned red like a beacon. I felt like this situation qualified.
I was boxed in between the door and Dom’s broad chest. He rested his hands on either side of my head, caging me in between tattooed forearms.
“Talk.”
“I’m not mentally prepared for another round of honesty with you,” I confessed.
