Dominic was still smiling when Britt's voice cut across the ballroom floor.
Britt: She's lying. She put that slide up there herself.
Britt walked up with her wine glass and her perfect hair, and Grayson followed her like he'd been fed.
Britt: Everybody saw it, Sash. You wanted an audience. Now you want to cry about it.
My hands were shaking, so I pressed them flat against my skirt.
Sasha: You had my key. You had my tablet. You did this.
Britt: Listen to her. She's already making up stories.
I turned to Grayson. Some stupid part of me still thought he'd look at me and remember who I was.
Sasha: Gray. Tell them. You know what she is.
Grayson: I know what you are.
He said it flat, with Britt's hand in his, and my chest went cold.
Grayson: You sent a naked picture to her boss. That's not Britt. That's you.
Sasha: You fucking liar.
Britt: There she goes. Classy as always.
Nobody even looked surprised. They looked bored, like my ruin was a commercial break.
Dominic's hand closed around my upper arm, hard enough to steer and not hard enough to bruise.
Dominic: Not here. You're making a scene, and I've had enough of your scenes tonight.
He walked me through a side door into a small green room.
The door clicked shut, and the party went muffled.
Dominic: So how much did it cost you to get that slide on my screen?
Sasha: Are you deaf? Britt did it. Britt has been setting me up since the second I walked in.
Dominic: She called you a liar to your face. Why would I believe the other one?
Dominic: You cried in my office. Then you put your tits on my screen for three hundred people.
Dominic: That's not a mistake. That's a plan with a lighting cue.
Rage came up so fast I saw spots. I shoved his chest with both hands, and he didn't move an inch.
Sasha: I didn't do it. Say it again and I'll fucking hit you.
Dominic: Try it.
I tried. He caught my wrist, spun me, and my back hit the mirror.
Dominic: There it is. That's the face you make when you're caught.
Sasha: Get off me.
Dominic: You don't want me off you. You want me to believe you.
Then he kissed me, and it wasn't gentle.
I meant to bite him. I opened my mouth and he took it, and my hands grabbed his shirt.
He pushed his thigh between my legs, and I ground down on it.
His hand slid up my skirt, over my stocking, and pressed flat against my panties.
Dominic: Fuck. You're soaked. Is this what shame does to you?
Sasha: Shut up.
My voice came out wrecked. My hips rolled against his palm anyway, greedy and stupid.
He rubbed me through the wet cotton in slow circles, and my clit jumped under his fingers.
I reached down and found the front of his pants, hard and hot through the wool.
He made a rough sound against my ear when I cupped his cock, and my whole body went hot and mean with power.
Dominic: Look at you. Crying in my office, lying to my face, rubbing yourself on my hand like a bitch in heat.
Sasha: You bastard.
Dominic: Say it again. Louder.
I was close. That was the humiliating part. Then his hand was gone.
Dominic: You don't get to come on my hand and call it proof.
Dominic: Find out who put that slide up there. Bring me something I can hold.
Sasha: And if I can't?
Dominic: Then I'll know exactly what you are.
He picked up his jacket and walked out.
The door swung shut, and the party noise rushed back in.
I stood against the mirror with my skirt hiked up, ashamed and furious and wet.
Britt called me a liar. But I was still breathing, and I knew who I'd burn.