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