By A Thread Lucy Score Quotes

You want someone you can trust with your nightmares. Not just your dreams.

Look, the point of a relationship isn’t hiding your stupid wounds and flaws. It’s about showing them to someone and letting them still love you. You were able to hurt her because she let you in.

You stick to your ring of hell, and I’ll stick to mine,” I agreed. “Perfect solution.” She yanked the conference room door open.

Maybe. I don’t know. Being around you feels like a never-ending boxing match, and I keep getting hit in the nuts.

You type like a Clydesdale.

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.

Can I get you a drink?” Rude Sex Hair was back. “I don’t know. Can you?” I shot back. “We’re fresh out of the blood of children, Satan. How about something that matches your personality?” She was saying the words nicely. Sweetly even. “I’ll have a—” “Unsweetened iced tea,” she filled in for me. Bitter. Boring. Bland.

You want someone you can trust with your nightmares. Not just your dreams. She showed you her nightmare, and you walked

He was leaking precum like it was a competitive sport. And I. Was. Here. For. It.

This hormone thing,” he said, gently wiping the tears from my face with his thumbs. “How long does it last?” “I guess we’ll find out,” I sobbed.

I tapped the folder again. Debating. What the hell. I had a few minutes for an argument.

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.

You have too many annoying opinions.” “Take it up with your mother,” she said cheerfully. “Why don’t we play a game where we sit in silence for the entire ride back?

I basked in her disdain.

Is this one of those places where you pay people to be assholes to you?” I asked my mother. “Oh, honey. I’m doing this for free.” Sex Hair batted thick lashes in my direction. I opened my mouth to destroy her.

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

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

I wasn’t looking for you. But I still found you.

There’s a fine line between annoyance and ‘damn, I really want to get that naked,’” he pointed out.

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.

What can I do for you, boss?” “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.

We ended up in a tangle on the floor. The tile cooling heated skin. Muscles still shaking. Dominic stroked a hand over my hip. “I think I pulled a hamstring,” he whispered. “I think you impregnated my lungs.

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.

Panic danced its way down my spine. If he walked in here and demanded to see me, I didn’t trust myself to not do something stupid. It was fifty-fifty on whether I’d punch him in the face or just go straight for his zipper with eager hands.

Give me a couple of minutes.” And the rest of your life.

I’d offer to help you with him, but I hate you.

Tacos and home renovation supplies with an entrepreneur, a male exotic dancer, and a drag queen on her day off. Just another glamorous day in the life.

By the way, from my sex to yours, a dick pic is not the right way to start a conversation.

How did you meet?” I asked. Please, for the love of my sanity, say a church group promoting abstinence. “Who?” she asked, rearranging the photos leading with the twirl. “Your date.” “Oh. On a dating app,” she said cheerfully. Fuck.

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.

A junior editor chirped in my ear about canary yellow sundresses and Cuban photoshoots while the January wind worked its icy fingers through my layers. I navigated the curb buried under foot-tall piles of what used to be snow. Now it was gray slush frozen into dirty, depressing clumps.

I hated not being good at something.

Hands caught me, stopping me in my tracks, and then pushed me up against the brick of a building. A church. Oh, how appropriate.

You’re going to make some woman very lucky someday.” “Wish it was you.

Holy baby goats in pajamas.

I’m not really a hearts and flowers kind of guy.” I was more of a “fuck her in a dark corner until she screamed my name” kind of guy.

Everything Dom did felt like foreplay.

The song was slow, dirty, tortured. I liked it. It reminded me of me.

You two are what the annoying kids call #relationshipgoals.

It wasn’t out of the kindness of my heart. I had neither kindness nor a heart. I considered it atonement for being an asshole.

I’m saying I found you. And I’m not fighting it anymore. You’re mine.

Don’t do this, Dom. Don’t be nice. Don’t ask me questions. I’m hanging on by a thread here.” He pulled me out of the chair and into his arms. It was a hug. A hard, breathless hug.

You want someone you can trust with your nightmares. Not just your dreams. She showed you her nightmare, and you walked,

Go put on anything other than that outfit and grab one of the Burberry coats on your way out.

My dear, adorable, elderly neighbor had two great loves in this life: Feeding people and Pinterest.

I can’t take the car. I’m going to Jersey,” she said, her voice calmer. “Nelson loves Jersey,” I told her. “I live for it, sir,” Nelson chimed in.

Didn’t she know joy had no place here? I wanted her to be as annoyed and uncomfortable by my presence as I was of hers. I wanted her unable to function.

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 think I like this? You think I like being the asshole who can’t have you so I don’t want anyone else to either? Do you know how I felt all day just knowing that you were dressing for someone else? That you were going out with someone? That another man was going to touch you tonight?

I wanted her to the point of desperation. And it made me hate myself just a little more.

I wondered if I was leaving a trail of body glitter behind me like I was a Questionable Life Choices Tinkerbell.

Something on the nightstand caught her attention, and she leaned over to pick it up. She held up the copy of Pride and Prejudice accusingly. I shrugged. “It’s for decoration.” “There’s a receipt for a green tea dated last week being used as a bookmark,” she challenged.

Newly and temporarily poor but permanently, stupidly stubborn.

There was a stir around me. I don’t know if it was the dress, the designer, or the girl. My girl.

Okay. So it had been pretty damn cool to strut down the runway in a beautiful dress on the arm of a very attractive man in front of the guy who’d rejected me repeatedly.

I couldn’t take his Brownie from him.

You want someone you can trust with your nightmares. Not just your dreams. She showed you her nightmare, and you walked,” Delaney continued.

As March gave way to April, as winter mellowed into spring, Dominic’s emails kept coming.

Things kept happening. Good things.

Lady George Administration Memory Care Grant.

Basically relationships can’t exist between executives and underlings,

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.

Is it hip-hop?” Ruth wanted to know. “Can I wear leg warmers? I live for any excuse to wear leg warmers.

I’d start a spa where women could get massages along with gynecological exams, mammograms, and dental cleanings. With a bar.

It was a fine line to walk. My cybersecurity analysts—colloquially known as hackers—worked their not-technically-legal magic to find threads to pull. Once we knew where to look, the rest of the team worked to confirm and pass along that information in ways that wouldn’t get the case bounced out of court.

In the meantime, Brownie and I are still hoping you’ll walk back into our lives. He doesn’t know that I don’t deserve you. Please don’t tell him.

There are moments in everyone’s life when they stop, breathe, and wonder who the hell’s life they’re actually living.

Money could temporarily transform anything.

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.

I’d made it back to my office, locked myself in the washroom, and masturbated violently while thinking about her. In the middle of the day. In my own office. I’d come so fucking hard my knees buckled.

I held up my bargain basement, pay-as-you-go, not-so-smart phone. “What the hell is that thing?” he asked. “A calculator?

I remembered everything. And now I treasured it.

Holy baby goats in pajamas. I swear I almost blacked out. It was the most blatantly sexual thing he’d done in front of me. And I wanted more. I wanted to see him naked, spread out before me like a buffet.

Don’t ask me questions. I’m hanging on by a thread here.

Was grumpy and rude suddenly the new hot? My vagina seemed to think so. It hadn’t been that long since I’d given her some action. But apparently she was into well-dressed douches now. Great.

Do you really want to be on the receiving end of an alimony check from someone like Paul Russo? A man who used you and saw you as nothing more than an accessory? Or do you want to live and love and find some scrap of happiness

My brain screamed, “Oh, hell no,” as my traitorous lady parts started an inappropriate celebration

Who’s the most handsome boy?” Ally crooned, ruffling his ears. “I am,” I insisted. “But Brownie’s okay too.

What she did late at night when she couldn’t sleep.

Things I Hate: 1. People who litter 2. The rumor mill 3. Getting shit on by birds 4. Not being able to stop thinking about you 5. My father

End of fucking story. I was her Prince Fucking Charming.

Honey, I don’t know what that was about,” the bartender said, staring after the men. “But Vest Guy looks like he can’t decide if he wants to spank you or devour you.” I blinked. “So I’m not imagining it?” “That was a code nuclear. If I had lady parts and took him to bed, I’d be concerned about my vagina spontaneously exploding.

Reputations can’t be built on sweeping things under the rug,” I reminded her. “They’re built on stories. You’re in control of your story and how it’s told… or not told.

You just light up every room you walk into. It’s like the sun coming up. Every time I see you, I feel better. I love it when you walk into a room.

Enemies with benefits.

My neck hives had hives.

Right now, I hated him. I loathed him. The only thing I hated more was the fact that I still wanted Dominic Russo.

sex hormones had destroyed my brain so that nothing else mattered but being touched by the man next to me.

I think about you, too, Dom. I like fighting with you, flirting with you. And apparently, you being a high-handed alpha asshole is a turn-on too. And I don’t like it any more than you do.

I’d been furious with the man. And then one glimpse of the purple-headed sea monster in his pants, and I’d gone all pizza delivery porno on him.

Being around you feels like a never-ending boxing match, and I keep getting hit in the nuts.

Here’s a free Ted Talk. Drunk texting never does what you want it to.

It was blindingly unfair that a man who didn’t want to want me could get me in a sexual lather just by standing next to me.

you tried to turn my foot into a kebab with your footwear weaponry,

I just stared dumbly and cursed my lady parts for bursting into an angels’ chorus as they recalled Friday night in vivid detail

I tried not to look at the sexy ink on his forearms. Dressed-up and classy on the outside, but dig down a few layers, and Dominic Russo was a primal, rough-around-the-edges sex god.

I would not inappropriately touch my boss tonight. I would not inappropriately touch my boss tonight. I’d repeated the mantra all damn day.

Dominic kept his gaze on me and reached down to adjust himself. Holy baby goats in pajamas. I swear I almost blacked out. It was the most blatantly sexual thing he’d done in front of me. And I wanted more.

Every touch, no matter how innocent, how platonic, took on layers of meaning. Each one kicked off chain reactions in my body’s chemistry.

I’d never wanted anyone with this gut-churning intensity before. I felt like my neurons were carving monuments to the woman in my brain.