How to Marry Your Frenemy (How To Rom Com Series Book 1)

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How to Marry Your Frenemy (How To Rom Com Series Book 1) Page 15

by London Casey


  I bit my bottom lip and did everything I thought about doing.

  I could hear the water running next door without putting my ear to the wall.

  Which was perfect.

  I put my left hand flat against the wall and shut my eyes.

  My right hand eased down the front of my pants and panties. I took a deep breath as my body tingled with more anxiety than excitement. My fingertips felt grizzly stubble and I made a mental note to shave myself later.

  I swallowed hard as my fingertips introduced themselves between my legs.

  Old friends meeting again.

  It’s been way too long…

  I sighed with relief as I curled my fingers.

  My middle finger moved between my damp folds.

  I was more than ready.

  I eased up just enough to find my happy, little clit.

  My legs jumped when I touched it.

  She was as jumpy as me.

  And, yes, I personified my clit… she was little, fierce, and I loved her.

  I rolled my middle finger around my clit and let out a groan.

  My mind flashed to all those dirty images of Jackson in the shower.

  His hard pecs. His perfect abs. His V line that pointed to his throbbing cock.

  I pictured his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. Stroking. Then pumping.

  No… no…

  I swallowed hard and groaned again.

  I changed the image in my mind.

  It was me in the shower with Jackson now.

  My hand tried to tighten around his cock. Pulling at him like a stuck door. Watching his face. Teasing him about Derrick. So the jealousy would make him explode.

  Then he’d pull me against his body.

  He’d growl like a vicious beast, ready to pounce.

  Then he’d turn me around.

  I’d be facing the tiles of the shower.

  His hands would grab my hips and pull so I had to bend forward a little.

  Then I’d feel his cock against me… pressing… teasing… tempting…

  I gritted my teeth as my middle finger danced against my clit like Flight of the fucking Bumble Bee…

  I took a few breaths and-

  “Knock! Knock! Oh… fuck!”

  I thrust forward, pulled my hand out of my pants, and spun around.

  The bathroom light turned on and Misha stood there, shocked.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I cried out.

  I gasped for a breath.

  “You wanted me to come over to talk about dresses… were you…”

  “No,” I said.

  “What were you doing in the bathroom? Alone? In the dark?”

  “I was meditating,” I said, swallowing hard.

  “Meditating?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay,” Misha said. “When you’re done meditating, wash your hands.”

  “Get out!” I yelled.

  Misha disappeared.

  I put my head back against the wall.

  I had been so fucking close to finishing too.

  I turned my head and could no longer hear the shower running in Jackson’s apartment.

  I sighed.

  The show was over.

  The moment had come and gone.

  Even if I didn’t get to come.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jackson

  Every morning I stood outside Callie’s door and waited for her with a coffee.

  I heard her stumbling around inside her apartment, always scrambling to finish getting ready. Which amazed me because at the office she was always one hundred percent organized.

  This morning I heard her yell fuck and then she threw a shoe against the door.

  I stood there, holding two coffees like a damn fool, reminding myself that at the end of this marital bliss there was one million dollars waiting for me.

  The door finally opened and Callie almost lunged at me to get out of her place.

  I stepped out of the way.

  “Good morning, beautiful wife,” I said.

  “Shut up,” she said. “My hair looks like shit. I broke my fucking favorite pair of heels. And then I-”

  I put her coffee into her hand and touched her cheek to get her to stop talking.

  She sucked in a breath.

  “Let’s go to work now,” I said. “I don’t need to hear about your shitty morning. That’s for Misha. She gets paid to listen to you.”

  “How long have we been married now?”

  “Three whole days.”

  “It feels like three decades.”

  “Can’t argue that. Miserable and sexless.”

  Callie walked ahead of me.

  I didn’t mind.

  It was my morning view.

  Her ass tick-tocking left to right.

  Each time that subtle moment threatened to make my dick thicken, I pictured her hips throwing pennies with each sway.

  All leading to…

  One. Million. Dollars.

  We shared a ride to the office, like we always did.

  We entered the building together, all smiles.

  In the elevator, we looked at each other with disgust.

  The second the elevator doors opened again, the smiles were back.

  As we walked, I decided to change things up a little today.

  I slipped my hand into hers.

  Callie tried to pull away but I interlocked my fingers and squeezed tight.

  “They’re watching,” I whispered.

  And believe me, they were.

  Everyone was fascinated by the love story of Jackson and Callie.

  The frenemies who had been secretly dating all along and were now married.

  Goddamn, people were so gullible for a love story.

  When we got to our offices, I stopped walking and took my hand from hers.

  I leaned down and kissed her cheek.

  I walked into my office with a smile on my face.

  When I got behind my desk and looked across the hall to Callie, she had a bottle of hand sanitizer in her right hand.

  She pumped the damn thing five times into the hand that I had been holding.

  I laughed.

  She really was something else.

  Vince treated Eddie and I to lunch.

  That was his excuse to drink in the early afternoon and flirt with the bartender who seemed to be missing most of the top of her shirt.

  Not that I minded the view at all.

  Although there were a few times I tried to picture Callie in that same shirt.

  “Careful staring,” Eddie said to me. “You’re married.”

  “Looking is fine,” I said. “And you don’t know what Callie is into. She might even like if I touched…”

  Eddie exhaled a breath. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

  “Speaking of which,” Vince said. “I really want to look into Connelly.”

  Eddie and I looked at each other for a second.

  “Vince,” Eddie said. “You know who I am…”

  “You’re a pussy,” Vince said. He grabbed the back of Eddie’s neck. “But I love you.”

  “Connelly is too risky,” I said. “No fucking way.”

  “Where’s your free spirit, nephew?” Vince asked. “Where’s the guy who got married on a whim?”

  He winked at me.

  “Listen to Eddie’s numbers,” I said. “They’re not going to come close to turning anything that resembles a profit for ten years.”

  “If they can survive that long,” Eddie said.

  “They need money,” Vince said. “I have money.” He looked at the bartender. “Hear that, honey? I have money.”

  “That’s good,” she said.

  “Listen, honey,” Vince said. “Were you ugly as a kid?”

  “Christ, Vince,” I said. I looked at the bartender. “Sorry.”

  “It’s an honest question,” Vince said. “I’ll be fair. Look at me. I’m as ugly as sin. Right? I�
�m not afraid of it.”

  “Okay then,” the bartender said. “I was… let’s just say I had braces. Until I was twenty. And I really didn’t blossom for a while. And even then, I had a little bit of… surgical assistance…”

  “Ah, right,” Vince said. “So you were ugly, your chest was flat as a freshly paved road, and you decided to invest in yourself.”

  “You don’t have to listen to this,” I said.

  “Relax, nephew,” Vince said. “Just talk to me, honey.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “I invested in myself and I feel much better.”

  “This is uncomfortable,” Eddie said.

  Vince winked at the bartender and she walked away.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked Vince.

  “I’m making a point,” he said. “Connelly. I want it. I don’t give a shit about the risk. Make it happen.”

  That was the end of the conversation.

  Poor Eddie was sweating bullets from being in the uncomfortable spot with the bartender all the while trying to mentally figure out numbers to make Vince happy.

  As we were getting ready to leave, the bartender tracked me down.

  “Thanks for sticking up for me,” she said. “I really didn’t mind. But that guy is a creep.”

  “Yeah he is,” I said. “And I’m sure you were just as pretty without the surgical assistance.”

  “Maybe you can play around and tell me…”

  I lifted my left hand and showed off my wedding band.

  “Oh, fuck,” the bartender said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  I exited the fancy restaurant-slash-bar to the sound of horns beeping and Vince chatting Eddie’s ear off about his vision.

  I looked at the wedding ring again and shook my head.

  Callie was cock blocking me even when she wasn’t around.

  I walked down the hallway and heard Misha and Callie talking.

  “I just need to pick one,” Callie said. “You can tell me what to do, right?”

  “I literally can’t tonight,” Misha said. “You know me, Callie. I’m there. Always there.”

  “Just not tonight when I need it.”

  “Don’t be like that to me,” Misha begged.

  I swung around and stepped into the doorway.

  “What’s wrong, wife?” I asked as I slipped my hands into my pockets.

  “Here,” Misha said. “Ask your husband for help.”

  Misha grinned.

  “You’re fired,” Callie said.

  “No, she’s not,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

  “She needs a dress for the not a date she has with the guy who wants her,” Misha said.

  “You’re double fired now,” Callie said.

  “Again, no, she’s not,” I said.

  Callie stood behind her desk like a cornered animal about to lash out.

  “You need my help picking out a dress,” I said. “I can help with that.”

  “No,” Callie said.

  “Can we do it tomorrow night?” Misha asked.

  “Yes,” Callie said.

  “Wait a second,” I said. “I’m your husband. Don’t I get a say?”

  “Why would you get a say in what I wear?” Callie asked.

  I approached her desk. “You’re the one going out on a date with another guy.”

  “It’s not a date. At all.”

  “Bullshit, Callie.”

  “Bullshit on you,” she said. “You smell like booze.”

  “Had lunch with Vince.”

  “Strip club?” she asked.

  “No. But there was a bartender with fake tits who wanted to fuck me.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “I showed her my wedding ring. I’m faithful to my wife.”

  Callie and I kept getting closer to one another.

  “Wow,” Misha said to break up the tension and banter.

  “What?” Callie asked, moving her eyes from mine.

  “You two are perfect together,” she said.

  “You’re fired three times,” Callie said. I opened my mouth and Callie pointed at me. “Don’t say it.”

  “See you tonight, wife? I’ll help you pick out the perfect dress.”

  “Fine,” she said. “Just get out of here. Both of you.”

  I smiled at her.

  Marriage wasn’t all that bad, was it?

  Callie’s apartment was a little bit smaller than mine.

  I had much more space than she did.

  Her layout was all messed up.

  That made me feel good in a really bad way.

  I sat in a chair and waited for Callie to come out in the first dress.

  The bathroom door opened and she stepped out.

  A hunter green dress that hugged her curves in a way that made me slide to the edge of my seat.

  My first reaction was fuck no.

  No way she could wear that dress without me by her side.

  Every guy in the room would be mentally bending her over the bathroom sink…

  “Yes? No?”

  I swallowed hard and shrugged my shoulders.

  “Give me some feedback here, Jackson,” she said.

  “Okay, fine. How about a drink?”

  “Get it yourself,” she said. “What about this dress?”

  “I like the color,” I said. “The shoulder part is kind of thick. Looks like you’re wearing a book bag. You need to buff up those skinny shoulders, sweetie.”

  Callie waved her middle fingers at me.

  She turned and went into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  I stood up and walked to the cabinet above the fridge and found a dusty bottle of scotch.

  I poured two glasses and waited at the bathroom door for Callie to emerge again.

  When the door opened, she gasped as I handed her a glass.

  “Cheers, wife,” I said. “Another day of lying together.”

  “Cheers,” she said.

  I looked down at the peach colored dress.

  This one was too puffy. The shoulder straps were super thin and I pictured hooking my pinky fingers under those straps and sliding them down her arms so I could see her tits in the flesh…

  I threw back the glass and drank all the scotch in one big gulp.

  “Thoughts?” Callie asked.

  “You look like a pufferfish.”

  “You know, you could just say yes or no. I don’t need to be critiqued like I’m in some fashion show. You jerk.”

  She turned and I grabbed her arm.

  “Hey. The first one made you look way too fucking hot to be somewhere with another man. This one covers you up way too much, making it my favorite. Okay?”

  Callie drank her glass of scotch and handed me the glass back.

  “I need another one of those,” she said.

  She stepped back into the bathroom and shut the door.

  I refilled our glasses and stood near the chair.

  The bathroom door opened a third time and Callie stepped toward me in an off-white colored dress.

  It was sleek and elegant, almost touching the floor, covering up most of her cleavage, making her beauty shine so fucking bright and hard I needed my sunglasses to look at her.

  It made me swallow hard to calm my heart for a second.

  She took her glass from my hand and sipped her drink.

  “That’s a winner,” I said. “If you’re going to a charity event.”

  “Yeah?” she asked. “It kind of squishes my… never mind.”

  “What?”

  Her cheeks blushed a little. “Uh, it’s pushes against my chest a little hard.”

  “Got it,” I managed to say as I forced my mind to chase away any and all thoughts that pertained to my hands, mouth, and dick and Callie’s ample chest.

  “I’ve got one more to try on,” she said.

  She downed this glass of scotch and handed it back to me.

  She walked into the bathroom a
nd pushed at the door… but it didn’t shut all the way.

  I stood with a glass in each hand and watched as Callie reached back and undid the top of the dress. She pulled the straps down her shoulders, showing off her back. She leaned forward, allowing the dress to fall off her chest. As she turned just slightly, I caught sight of the swell of her right breast.

  It just hung there, beautifully firm and full.

  I gritted my teeth and wondered if I should have been looking or not.

  She was my wife… I was allowed to look, right?

  Callie bent forward some more and turned a little more…

  She looked in the bathroom mirror and realized her error at leaving the bathroom door open.

  She stood and turned, her arm moving across her chest.

  All before I could see a nipple.

  She caught me staring like I was some horny teenager flipping through his first porn magazine.

  She slammed the bathroom door with force.

  I put the glasses down on the table and moved to the bathroom door.

  “I have to get going, Callie,” I said. “The last dress was the best one. You don’t need to try on the fourth one. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  I backed away and gave her a few seconds to tell me not to go.

  If she did, I was going to kick the fucking door down and bend her over the bathroom sink…

  There was no response.

  I took the hint and I left her apartment.

  When I got into mine, I slammed the door and locked it.

  There was a rage swirling between my legs that I couldn’t fight off.

  Her in a dress. Her stripping the dress off. The sight of just one of her breasts…

  I growled and hurried to my bathroom and ran to the sink.

  I kept the lights off.

  I shut my eyes.

  I pictured Callie turning all the way around, the dress halfway down her body.

  I pictured me walking into the bathroom and pulling the dress off her body and slapping my tongue between her legs until she screamed my name.

  My hand opened my pants and I pulled my rock hard dick out and rested it against the sink.

  I waited a few seconds to try and chase Callie’s image away.

  It wasn’t going to work.

  There was only one solution here.

  I pictured Callie turning around again and I wrapped my hand around my dick.

  I pumped hard and fast.

 

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