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100 For both of them
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My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 101 A modest evening
Their waiter returns with the first course, and their conversation pauses as the first white wines are poured. When they were alone, Monica seems more in control of herself. “What about you? Is your aunt proud of her internationally famous fashion model nephew?” Jackson dodged the question, which hit too close to home. “I would not say internationally famous. I’m just a minor celebrity within France, especially Paris. Here, I am recognized, but Aunt Jacqueline has done her damnedest to keep me humble because abroad, I'm like any other man.” Monica snorts. “I think you actually believe that, but you are nothing like other men I have known.” “How so?” “We can start with your six-pack and work our way from there if you really need an ego stroking,” she offers. “Six. Pack?” Jackson repeats, his brow furrowed as he searches his mind for the word. Monica pats her belly, tapping in six places. “Six pack, abs, bump-de-bumps, man muffins.” Jackson figured out what she was referring to, but he
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 102 A night to remember
“All of Paris is not lights and beauty. Like many cities, there is ugliness and sadness as well,” Jackson tells her quietly. “That wss a shanty development, with makeshift homes for dozens of people. They are somewhat fortunate, not alone on the streets like many, but it’s a very small improvement.” Melancholy washes over her face. “There are lots of unhoused people in New York too. I see them on the streets, sleeping in alleys, begging for food, desperate for help. There are organizations that try—soup kitchens, mobile shower units, placement assistance—but there are so many people.” “Paris is better than some, and there are many volunteer groups here as well. But still,” Jackson whispers, his voice cracking, “people die on the streets every year. Some say it’s because of migrant camps and ‘outsiders’. But it’s not true. That’s only one piece of the problem. The costs of living are rising faster than wages, and people with good jobs are being forced out on the street. Families . . .
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 103 a big step
“Well, this is Xerxes, my littlest friend and the biggest reason my apartment is never clean. Xerxes, this is Monica, who is very beautiful. So be nice.” “He’s um . . . friendly. Cute.” “He thinks he’s an emperor,” Jackson explains with a chuckle, “and I’m the sole inhabitant of his empire. He does have a bit of a temper, but he will warm up to you.” Jackson puts Xerxes down, who gives Monica a wary look as he walks around her, giving her a wide berth as though afraid she was going to punt him across the room again. “I’m sorry, Xerxes. I hope you can forgive me?” He sniffs and walks on, his nose in the air and booty wiggling left and right. Jackson picks up a folder from the kitchen counter. “Would you like to see the proofs from the shoot?” “That sounds good.” They both sits on the couch as he spreads the 8x10s out across the coffee table. No matter what she look at, her eyes returns to Jackson, his strength and potency leaping from the photos. Regardless of the outfit, regardless o
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 104 Melting into each other
Jackson's pupils get larger to Monica's trust, nearly obliterating the warm brown of his irises. He picks up the tie from his lap and tells Monica, “Hold still.” It takes her a split second to realise what he was going to do, but as hecovers her eyes with the silk fabric and ties it behind her head, she doesn't feel any concerns. She feels excited. Monica's other senses were sharpened. She can hear her heart racing in time with the music. She can smell the champagne and Jackson’s cologne. She can feel the leather of the couch. Jackson leans in. Monica can’t see him, butshe can feel his closeness, and then his lips pressing to her. She kisses him back, but he keeps the slow pace, reconnecting both of them physically and giving her time to adjust to the onslaught of sensations. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him in tighter, and only then does he deepens the kiss. His hand cups her jaw, guiding her to lift her chin, and he lays a line of kisses toward her ear. “I can’t wait
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 105 Responsiveness
Later, Monica might be ashamed by how easily she come, but right now, all she knows is pleasure, and already on edge, she bucks into his mouth. Jackson fastens his lips around her clit and sucks hard, his tongue fluttering at the same time. It was more than she can handle. “Fuck, fuck . . .” With her eyes already closed, Monica squeezes them tighter and see firework-likesparkles against the blackness as her body spasms. “Yes,” he groans against her pussy, “so responsive.” That is not something a man has ever said to her, not even Julien especially not in bed. He was always so busy and tired that they both had those csrdios like two days a week. Or on a couch, as the case may be. It feels like he was praising her for coming when he was the one who got her there in record time. “I have never . . . not that fast.” He presses a gentle kiss to her inner thigh, and Monica realises her honey must be coating his lips. The thought is sexy, and she wants to taste herself on his lips. “Kiss me
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 106 consciousness
“What do you think?” he asks. Monica swallows as she watches him stroke himself and admit, “You are really big. I don’t know if you are gonna fit.” Jackson groans and a bead of precum appears. He swipes his thumb through it and offers it to Monica. She opens her mouth and licks his thumb, sucking to get every bit. He hooks his thumb into her mouth, keeping it there as he vows, “I will fit anywhere you want me—this mouth, your sweet pussy, your delectable ass.” Monica nibbles on his thumb, soothing it with a lick of her tongue, and he grinshungrily. Jackson pulls his thumb out, holding her face gently, and then leans down to kiss her. Now, they truly have both their juices on their tongues, and the idea is both dirty and sexy. He strokes himself again, hard and fast. Every few strokes, his tip bumps against her pussy. Monica would not have thought she would be able to come again for days, but the image of him jacking himself off over her is sexy as fuck. She reaches between them, s
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 107 Names of all.
“Wow,” says Molly, looking around the huge space before them with enormous eyes, “this place is humongous.” She was usually much more dramatic. Monica would have expected her to compare the room to the Grand Canyon or outer space. But she was as gobsmacked as the rest of all at seeing the converted warehouse that House Corbin is using for the fashion show. They have already been feeling the pressure, the five of them working all hours of the day and night on their designs, struggling with choices that feel like life or death but are ultimately mere fabric. But the results of their creativity will affect their lives, determining whether their dreams come true or fizzle. And that was way more important than sleep, food, or calling home. Monica have not seen Katarina consume more than coffee and cigarettes in days. Yori has taken to muttering to herself in Japanese, the sounds so repetitive that they have become melodic. Like a song she doesn't know the words to, but understand on a vis
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 108 A nervous day.
Soon, it was their turn to do an onstage rehearsal, a practice walk in street clothes and show heels that gives the models a chance to get the feel for how it will be tomorrow night. At Jeanette’s urging, Monica even took a practice lap, and it’s . . . intense. There was light directly in her eyes no matter how she turns her head, and as she walks, music starts blasting her, which is even moredisorienting. She was damn near walk off the end of the stage. She was not the only one struggling with the runway walk as the other designers try it too. Molly laughs. “This is impossible and I have on boots! How do you do this in heels?” she asks her model. All the models laugh at their difficulties, breaking the tension of the afternoon. The doors at the far end of the room open, and in walks Jacqueline Corbin, Tobias, a man she have not seen before, and Jackson. Monica haven’t seen Jackson in a couple of days, not since he stopped by the workroom to speak to each designer one-on-one on Wedn
Latest chapter
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage Epilogue
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 173 Altar to his future
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 172 prayers
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 171 Dreams and dreams
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 170 Across the knowledge
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 169 love bites to moon
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 168 A life of assurance
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 167 Pure truth
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 166 Love is so cruel
