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.
I was starting to lose my mind over being married.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Callie
The words Jackson and sweet did not belong together.
Not that I was implying that Jackson was sweet by any means at all.
It was more of a comfortable routine with him than anything else.
I caught myself opening my apartment door in the morning with a smile, reaching for a coffee that I knew was always going to be there.
Or looking up from my desk to catch him staring at me.
If people were around, we’d blow each other a kiss.
Just to add that extra bullshit charm to the entire situation.
If nobody was around, he’d make an obscene gesture with his hand. Always finding some object to jerk off. Or just the air itself.
Anything to just remind me that he was the same Jackson that I had known for so long.
I kept an eye on the calendar, watching the days slowly tick by.
Our marriage had lasted longer than I expected.
And so far Jackson had been faithful.
There were no surprises waiting in or near his apartment.
For me, I was just fine.
Nothing my fingers couldn’t contain. Or better yet - the discovery that my new shower head detached, meaning I could get a little up close and personal with it.
Did it matter that when I came I thought about Jackson?
I wasn’t sure.
But this was working.
Everything was working just fine.
Soon enough the marriage would end, the million dollars would be in my hands, and I could go back to being nothing more than a frenemy to Jackson.
The morning my alarm decided not to go off was the morning Jackson decided to not have a coffee waiting for me.
In fact, Jackson wasn’t there at all when I opened the door flustered with a sense of fury going through me.
“This fucking phone…”
Nobody was there.
I had been running around my apartment like a wild woman trying to get ready and Jackson wasn’t in the hallway.
I looked at my phone and I wasn’t that late.
My lips ached for the taste of coffee.
My nose ached for the smell of Jackson’s fresh clothes.
My eyes… well, you know…
I looked up and down the hallway.
I walked to Jackson’s apartment and knocked.
There was no answer.
I left the building and went to the office alone.
When I got there, Jackson was in his office.
I opened the door. “What was that?”
“What?” he asked.
“You weren’t there this morning.”
“So?”
“I was looking for my coffee, Jackson.”
He reached into his pocket and took out money and flung it across his desk. “Go get a coffee.”
I shut the office door. “Whoa. What is this?”
“What?”
“Stop saying what. You’re acting like a complete asshole.”
“I am a complete asshole.”
“True. But this… what is this?”
“Nothing.”
“Did you hit your limit of jerking off?” I asked. “Need a little of the real thing, hubby?”
He put his hands flat to his desk. “I’m not in the mood for jokes. Just be sure tonight you don’t fuck your date and ruin this for us.”
Jackson looked at his laptop on his desk.
“Ah,” I