How to Marry Your Frenemy - London Casey Page 0,35
and coffee.
“No,” I said. “You missed out on your chance. Sucks to be you.”
“Does it though?” he asked. “You weren’t wearing those clothes when you woke up, were you?”
“You asshole,” I said. “So what did you do? Strip me down? Enjoy the view? Then what? Run in the bathroom and jerk off into the sink?”
“You are something else, Callie,” Jackson said. He grabbed a plate off the counter and shoveled two pancakes, some eggs, and three strips of bacon onto it. He put the plate in front of me. “One-time thing. Don’t get used to it.”
“I’ll never cook for you,” I said. “If that’s what you want out of a wife, then you better divorce me.”
“Not until I receive my bonus,” he said. “Do you remember that part?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t be so dumb to marry you for any other reason.”
I grabbed a fork and stabbed the fluffy eggs.
They were delicious.
Hot. Muscular. Can cook…
… is my husband…
I looked at the ring on my finger again and cringed.
“For the record,” Jackson said, “I didn’t want my wife to spend her first night as a married woman alone. That’s why I brought you here. You were complaining about not having pajamas so I told you to sleep naked. You laughed and said don’t tempt me. So I did. We were this close to fucking…” Jackson held up thumb and pointer almost touching. “I took my shirt off and gave it to you. I left the bedroom to get you a glass of water because I didn’t want you puking all over my bed. When I came back, you were in my t-shirt and already asleep.”
“Where did you sleep?” I asked.
“My bed.”
“You slept next to me?”
“It’s my bed, Callie.”
“You don’t care who is in it, do you?”
“Nope,” he said. “Now, you can have breakfast. But not here.”
“What?”
“You’re allowed to stay if you’ve felt me inside you. That’s a rule.”
I moved away from the counter.
I felt like spitting on the food to ruin it.
But I was hungry.
I decided on something else.
I grabbed the plate and coffee cup and made my way to the door.
Then I had to balance the coffee cup on the plate to open the door.
I managed that just fine.
As I was leaving, I looked back.
“Thanks for the breakfast, hubby,” I said.
I walked out into the hallway and I felt Jackson following me.
I stood at my door and groaned.
My phone and keys were in the back pocket of my jeans.
I felt the keys digging into my ass.
Before I could do anything, Jackson’s hand slipped into the back pocket of my jeans.
“Are you serious right now?” I asked.
“Just helping the old ball and chain out,” he said.
His hands did more than just feel around for my keys.
My inner thighs trembled with desire, sending screaming pulses through the rest of my body to do it.
He’s your husband! Fuck him!
Jackson took the keys from my pocket and stuck them into the door and unlocked it for me. He reached around me with his other hand and then opened the door and guided me inside. He took the keys from the lock and slipped them back into my back pocket.
“See you at work,” he said.
I stood in my apartment holding a plate of food and a coffee cup that belonged to Jackson.
Between my legs, I was… you know… which also belonged to Jackson.
I sipped the coffee.
I shook my head.
I was totally fucking screwed.
Chapter Seventeen
Jackson
My wife.
I laughed at the thought of it.
I was going to have to get used to it for a little while.
That bonus money was as good as mine.
No way in hell I was going to pass up that kind of money.
Married? To Callie? For a little while?
Not a problem.
The real problem was Callie herself.
The way she acted the night before. Drunk and eager. Her eyes half shut as she started to take her clothes off, wanting to go to bed. Then waking up next to her as she wore my t-shirt. The smell of her hair that I didn’t mean to actually smell. It was just that she threw her fucking hair all over the pillows.
She was a bed hog too.
That wasn’t going to fly.
It was good this marriage bullshit was only viable when people could see us.
Although, seeing her shuffling through my apartment in the morning was quite the sight.
I wished she would have left the t-shirt on. And nothing else.
Just to see her perky nipples pressing through the soft, expensive cloth…