by Brent, Amy
“What?” Jessica protested with loathing in her eyes. “You’re not my father, Ben. You can’t give me stupid rules like that.”
I raised a brow and tilted my head. “Of course, I can. My house, my rules.”
Jessica groaned and asked her mother for help, but before Pam could say anything, Trey grabbed her hand and said, “It’s fine, bab—” he cut the pet name short and, after clearing his throat, said “Jess. It’s early. We have plenty time to talk. Let’s just go.”
She gave me another snarky glare, then turned around and vanished down the hall. After wishing Pam and I a good evening, Trey disappeared behind her.
Although I still hated the fact that Jessica was going out with another man, knowing I had Trey’s fear and respect made me relax a bit. I knew that he would think a hundred times before laying a hand on her, which would allow me just enough time to figure out how to make her mine without losing my deal with Pam in the process.
Once I heard the front door close, I let out a long breath and turned to look at my wife. To my surprise, she had her arms crossed, lips pursed and a pissed off arched brow on her face. Knowing for a fact that the expression had something to do with me, I reminded myself why I had stayed unmarried for so long and once more cursed my father for forcing me to take a wife.
Pam
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ben asked as if he was so innocent, it was the first real flaw in the man I had begun to consider a friend and my saving grace.
For a moment, I debated whether or not I should voice my concerns. I had a lot riding on this marriage and couldn’t really afford to jeopardize it because of my over-protective concerns. On the other hand, however, Jessica was my daughter and, like I had warned Ben last night, it was my job to do everything in my power to protect her.
I pulled in a lungful of air and grew a little taller in my spine as I met his questioning gaze with a firm and serious stare. “Because apparently, the warning I gave you yesterday didn’t stick as well as I hoped.”
Ben raised a questioning brow, and his lips pulled to one side in one of his cocky grins as he walked past me towards the dishes cabinet. Grabbing two plates, he asked, “Warning? What warning?”
“The one about staying the hell away from my twenty-two-year-old daughter,” I deadpanned.
He turned his eyes to me with an outrage that was so fake it was almost funny, but his gaze quickly drifted to the pizza boxes over the counter. “I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I don’t like it. Fake marriage or not, you’re still my wife, Pam. I would never be inappropriate to your daughter. Now, come choose what flavor you want. I’m starving.”
The casual way he lied was so insulting it made me angry. In fact, it made me livid, and as a result, my politeness vanished. No longer caring about my financial gain in this arrangement, I took a few steps towards my husband and came to a stop close enough to him that I could smell the clover notes of his cologne.
In a low and almost whispery voice, I said, “Don’t insult me, Benjamin. I saw the way you were all cozy to Jessica yesterday, and the pissing match with Trey just now was obvious. She’s a pretty and young woman, and you want her.”
At those words, Ben turned to look at me. His blue eyes were cold, and his expression was almost mocking.
“Are you jealous, honey?” he asked in the most offensive and condescending tone I had ever heard.
My nostrils flared with a new wave of anger, but I didn’t allow it to rile me enough to make me yell or slap him—though, he kind of deserved it. Instead, I stayed leveled and rolled my eyes.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I blurted out, allowing the disdain I felt for him to show. “I haven’t been into workaholic man-child since Jessica’s father. The only feelings I have for you are friendship and a weird sense of duty towards your dead father, but to be honest, you’re acting like such an ass that those feelings are fading fast.”
His eyes widened and a dangerous light shined on them. “I’m acting like an ass?” I nodded a reply, and, in an even darker tone, he replied. “You’re the one accusing me when all I did was help protect your daughter from a man you didn’t want her to go out with.”
Although his words sounded reasonable and very convincing, there was a nagging feeling in my gut that called it bullshit. Still, I reeled in my temper once more to avoid further drama and only said, “Okay, then. If that’s the case, then I owe you thanks. But please, keep in mind that though I want to be your friend and wife for the duration of our agreement, the only reason I accepted this crazy fake marriage thing was to give a better life to Jessica. If I suspect that you’re making a move on her, I’ll divorce your ass before you can say you’re sorry. She’s bright and special, and I won’t allow anyone or anything to stand in her way. Not even myself. Is that clear?”
Ben’s face didn’t lie, he was annoyed as hell at me and my threat. But I honestly didn’t give a crap about it. All I cared was that he eventually nodded and, in a dry and worried tone, said, “Crystal clear. Now, do you want some pizza?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I replied, and he quickly placed a slice of fresh margarita pizza on my plate.
We sat at the kitchen table—an object Ben admitted not knowing existed in his home—and munched on the greasy goodness together. For the first few minutes, our interaction was stiff and awkward, but after a couple of slices and a bottle of beer each, things lightened up, and we went back to being friendly as we usually were.
For the rest of the night, we talked about things at his office, my application to the first-class international position and how much I didn’t need him to talk to his golfing buddy on my behalf. When Jessica finally returned home that night, Ben and I were still talking in the living room.
I was honestly relieved when he kissed me on the cheek and excused himself without so much as a glance in her direction. If this was going to work, then we all had to remember what was our part in this arrangement and I was happy and hopeful that Ben had—though reluctantly—remembered his.
For all our sake, I just really hoped he wouldn’t eventually forget.
Ben
Over the next two months, I did my best to respect Pam’s warning.
At first, my only concern was not pissing her off to the point where she would honor her threat and actually divorce my ass—that was a risk I simply couldn’t take with nine more months to go. But as weeks and months of Pam and I hanging out at home or at work related functions together, while Jessica was out with Mr. T-shirt and Chucks, our friendship grew, and things started to change for me.
I couldn’t deny that I still desired Jessica or that each new day made me discover more things about her to want and admire. Everything—from the dinosaur feet slippers she wore for breakfast, to the way she chewed on her pinky nail while thinking, to her carefree laugh that showed every single one of her pearly white teeth, to the excited tone her voice took while she spoke about medicine—made me almost sick with need. She was sweet, smart and spicy which basically made her the whole fucking package of my perfect woman. Still, my newfound sense of loyalty forced me to keep my distance from her at all costs.
It was a strange feeling, but after everything that Pam had done—and continued to do—for me and my business, I simply couldn’t bring myself to betray her like that. Considering I had built a life on doing what I wanted, when I wanted and to whom I wanted, holding myself back was incredibly hard, and so I took a few preventive measures to assure that I would be able to keep myself in check and not do anything stupid.
The first measure was to keep a very active life. I ran every morning, worked out at the gym every night and fucked Vanessa—who thankfully didn’t mind being called Jessica over and over—twice a day. That regiment kept my mind sharp and my balls empty enough to keep my resolve. As a second measure, I made a conscious effort to avoid being alone at the house with Jessica and only interacted with her when Pam was at home. Even then, I did it in the most respectful and platon
ic way possible. And finally, I reminded myself, on a daily basis, that I was—fake—married to a lovely woman who was my friend and that Jessica had a boyfriend—or at least a sad little excuse for one.
By following those simple measures, I regained some of the control I had lost over my urges and my life in general. It was a comforting feeling that allowed my mind to refocus on the things that mattered, such as the company’s expansion into new markets and the solidification of my new administration. Little by little my life started falling back on track, and I was finally able to enjoy the CEO position I had dreamed about for so long.
Then, on a Thursday night, after a long ass day at the office, I arrived at a completely empty house. I closed my eyes and pulled in a deep breath as I placed my briefcase over the foyer and enjoyed the calmness and silence that had once been so familiar to me. As much as I enjoyed the buzz and commotion of having Pam and Jessica living with me, I also missed the calmness of my solo existence.
With a pleased smile on my lips, I scrolled through the music on my phone as I walked to the living room and headed straight for the little bar at the corner. I pressed my finger over the cover of my favorite Paganini album and poured myself a triple shot of bourbon before walking with the bottle in hand toward my favorite chair at the corner. A pleasurable sigh passed through my lips as the lively violin music started to play through my speaker system and I took the first sip of my drink.
Lost in the darkness and the music, I sat there and enjoyed my solitude for long enough to down about half the bottle. Although I was nowhere near drunk, my alcohol drenched brain required a few seconds to associate the bright lights that suddenly invaded my house through the window behind me with the headlights of an incoming car.
Knowing that Pam was currently on a plane returning home from Tokyo, I frowned at the idea of being anywhere near Jessica while alone and buzzed. Deep down, I knew the risks this entailed and seriously considered the idea of running to my room or office just to be rid of the temptation.
However, this was my house which I had paid with my hard-earned money and, for that reason, I decided that I was over being confined to certain areas simply because my wife wasn’t home and her hot daughter was in the room. With a resolute breath, I poured myself another shot, crossed my ankle over my knee and decided that I would stay in my chair, drinking my booze and relaxing until I was done. A second later, the front door opened and the sound of high heels coming in my direction echoed louder than the music.
I pulled in a deep breath through my nose as my eyes moved out of their own accord to the archway that connected the foyer to my living area. There, like an angel dowsed in light, appeared Jessica. She had on a form-fitting dress that showed every single one of her killer curves and her hair was styled in full, sexy waves. My tongue peeked from behind my teeth to lick my dry lips, and my cock instantly hardened as she walked into the living room, filling the space with her flowery perfume.
Not entirely sure if she hadn’t noticed me or if she was simply ignoring me, I watched her walk to the bar area, grab a bottle of vodka and pour herself a hefty dose. I brought my glass to my lips at the same time she did and took a very large gulp. I kept my eyes on her as she poured a second and then a third drink and downed both with the same voracity as she did the first. Once she was done, she placed the glass back on the wooden surface and turned around, leaning her lower back against the edge.
“This music is beautiful,” she said with a sigh.
I smiled, pleased that she enjoyed the same music I did. Music had always been a huge part of my life and, for some reason, I couldn’t quite explain, it was important to me that she appreciated the same style I did. Taken by the moment and the alcohol, I did the one thing I knew I shouldn’t do. I engaged Jessica in conversation.
“It’s Niccolò Paganini,” I said in a soft and velvety tone. “He was so good people said he sold his soul to the devil.”
A soft, humorless chuckle passed through Jessica’s plump lips. “It’s funny how people never believe that someone can simply be good at something on their own merits. He probably studied for years and practiced until his fingers were raw, but God forbid talent and dedication were the reason for his success.”
The anger in Jessica’s usually sweet voice intrigued me. With a sideways smirk on my lips, I poured myself another shot and asked, “I wholeheartedly agree, but something tells me that you’re not talking about the violinist.”
Finally, she stole a peek at me. Even in the darkness the smile that formed on those delicious lips filled my body with tingles and excitement. My cock hardened even more as I imagined all the places I wanted her mouth to be and though, usually, I would push those thoughts away, this time I didn’t.
“I might not be,” she admitted in a softer voice. “I might be talking about assclowns that think a girl isn’t capable of finishing Med School a year early.”
“Any assclowns in particular?” I pressed. Since she was wearing date clothes and angry as shit, I sincerely hoped she would give me the answer I wanted to hear.
With a sigh and the glass and bottle in her hands, Jessica pulled away from the bar counter and slowly started to make her way toward me. “As a matter of fact, there are two. The first is my sexist professor and the second is my ignorant boyfriend.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The word boyfriend was definitely not what I expected or wanted to hear, but knowing that she was mad enough at Trey to call him ignorant softened a little of that blow.
“Well, considering assclowns—especially the misogynistic and stupid ones—are never to be taken seriously, I suggest proving the professor wrong and ditching the boyfriend,” I started in a tone that was somewhere between playful and deadly serious.
Jessica came to a stop right in front of me and started laughing as she sat in the chair facing me. The sound of her laughs was as alluring to me as the bouncing of her tits and the crossing of her long legs. Once more, I ran my tongue across my dry lips, but this time, her eyes followed it.
“Shouldn’t I just prove both of them wrong instead of having to go through the trouble of finding another boyfriend?” she asked in an innocent tone once her laughs subsided.
“Hell no,” I deadpanned as she poured herself another drink. “You can’t change your professors or do anything about their prejudice, but you can choose who you involve yourself with. A boyfriend is a choice, not an imposition. If he’s a dumbass, just kick him to the curb.” Deep down, I knew I should have stopped at that, but I was crossing into the drunk territory, and she smelled too good, and her cleavage was distracting. So, I added, “I can even get rid of him for you if you don’t want to bother. I’ll be a pleasure, really.”
Jessica’s lips opened to pull in a deep breath. Her chest expanded with the new surge of air and pushed against the fabric of her dress in a way that completely fucked all the hard work I had done to control my desire. I could feel my carefully crafted control slip away little by little, and though I had fucked Vanessa only minutes before leaving my office, I was just about ready to pounce out of my chair and devour my little step-daughter whole.
“I can take care of myself, Ben,” she said, and my name on her lips was like oysters and peanuts and peppers all rolled up into one tempting as fuck dish. “I don’t need a daddy to take care of me.”
I tilted my head and, with a voice filled with innuendo, said, “Yes, baby, you do. But that’s not the point.”
She pulled in another long breath and fidgeted in her seat. “What’s your point, then?”
I placed my glass on the side table and pressed my forearms against my knees, so my body was leaning forward toward her. “My point is that you shouldn’t settle for some mediocre boy that doubts you. You’re too good for that.”
Seemingly nervous, she finished her drink in one gulp and, after putting her glass down, leaned forward toward me as well. “What do you suggest, then? Waiting out until the man I really want stops running from me?”
My heart started to pound in my chest at her words. Entranced by the power of her fiery gaze, the world around me fell away, taking along my newfound allegiance to my wife and even the fear I felt over Pam’s threats. All that existed at that moment was me, Jessica and the tiny amount of heated space that separated us.
Like a paperclip to a magnet, I inched myself to the edge of my chair to be closer to her. Holding her gaze, I said, “Nobody is running, baby.”
“You’re still married, though?” As soon as that question passed through her lips, Jessica closed her eyes as if embarrassed to have said it.
I, on the other hand, kept my eyes wide open and focused on her as I felt something change deep inside of me. Thanks to the complicated nature of our relationship, I had held back my true nature around her. I had been controlled, respectful and gentle when it came to her, but the combination of alcohol and her brazen sex appeal brought out the real me. The one that was laser focused on getting what he wanted when he wanted.
And all I wanted, was her.
With a hand on her thigh, I knelt in front of her and placed my other on the back of her neck. Keeping my voice low and steady, I whispered, “Not married enough.”
Her gorgeous green eyes opened wide at my words and her pupils dilated. They focused on me for just a second before I tossed caution and good sense aside, leaned forward and finally touched my lips to hers.
Jessica
My mind couldn’t really process what was happening. Although I could feel Ben’s touch scorching my skin and his lips pressed firmly against mine, there was a voice in my head that insisted that it was all just a dream. And I believed the voice. How could I not when kissing that man was what most of my recent dreams were made of?