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105 Responsiveness
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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
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 109 Thoughts and thinking
“Breathe,” Yori says, looking over Monica's shoulder and seeing the same thing as she do. She seems completely fine, though, no panic attack in sight. “You panic, you make mistake. You must have mushin.” “Mushin?” Monica asks, dimly remembering the term from somewhere. “That’s like Japanese chill out, right?” “A little. Means ‘no mind’. You do the work, you know you are good. Now let go of the rest.” Monica snorts. “That’s easier said than done.” But she tries, telling herself that everything is fine, but it just feels like more static. Yori takes Monica's hands, tugging her out of her thoughts. “Breathe. In through nose, out through mouth, very slow. Isshoni. Together.” Monica follows her, taking deep breaths, and she feels herself start to calm, but that calm evaporates a minute later when she sees another big name come through the door. “Oh my God . . . fucking Wonder Woman’s here!” Monica gasps. “This is going to be so bad.” Katarina comes over, slipping a flask into her hand. “He
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 110 Accommodation
Each designer will have their five designs walk, there will be a two-minute break, and then the next designer’s time begins. The small separation will give people a moment to digest, make notes, and prepare for another stylepresentation. As they wait for the show to begin, he listens to the chatter around him. Most of these people are high society by birthright. They were people who have never had to struggle for a meal in their lives. Even the ones who did work their way up, as designers themselves or industry insiders, have forgotten what thattime in their life was like. Jackson was blessed to have never known struggle but also acutely aware that his life could have been so very different, and the seriousness with which these people discuss the latest red carpet fashion is off-putting. Why aren’t they discussing politics or poverty or anything that’s actually important? Jackson loves fashion. It was been the foundation on which he was raised. But there’s got to be more to it. It
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 111 Fears
The last collection is from Beatrice, and it’s quite well done too. Of course, that’s likely because it’s very Parisian. The dresses are short but appropriate, the skirts are long and flowy, and the tops are cotton bustier-typecamisoles under oversized linen shirts. It’s mostly solids, with a color palette of mostly pale blues and navy, though her finale maxi dress is a floral print that combines the two with a pop of red. After the show’s conclusion, he gives his notebook with his evaluations to his aunt. “A good start, don’t you think?” “I think there was a lot of promise in some of the pieces,” she answersevasively. “I look forward to seeing what another week produces.” Jackson watches as she leaves, Albert at her side, as always. They were deep in conversation, and he wonders what they were saying. Which designer theyfavored, which pieces they loved, and also, which they didn’t care for. Knowing he will be expected to make his way to the after-show cocktail hour to mingle and
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 112 A given?
He drives for a bit, and the whole way, Monica gawks out the windows to visually feast at every tidbit that they pass. She wants to absorb it all, use it as a muse, and create designs inspired by it. Jackson turns into a parking garage and carefully parks his car. They get out, and Jackson takes her hand as they walk out onto the sidewalk. In front of a large cast iron gate, Jackson asks, “Do you know the Luxembourg Gardens? It’s one of the most beautiful places in Paris.” “I have heard of it and seen photos. It’s like Central Park in New York, a pearl in the middle of the city, right?” Monica looks around, already fully charmed by the greenery and statuary she can see. They walk along the wide, sandy dirt paths, taking in the sights. There were people everywhere, smiling and chatting, taking advantage of the weather toplay tennis and basketball and sit in groups in the green chairs among the paths. “Would you like to see the Statue of Liberty?” he asks. Monica laughs. “I have. In N
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 113 proud
“It’s something I want to focus on with my designs—making everyone feel they are accepted just as they are,” Jackson says fiercely. “An honorable goal,” he agrees just as fiercely. “But make no mistake, what Jacqueline prefers on the runway and what I prefer in my bed are not one and the same, Princesse.” She can see the fire in his eyes, the possessive appreciation, and it settles some of the concern churning deep in her gut. His words reassure her, and she was able to relax a bit, though it takes a while before she was comfortable enough to enjoy the wine, cheese, and meat again. But Jackson doesn’t seem to notice one way or the other, playing tour guide and telling her about the history ofthe gardens. Though Monica was not sure his stories are in any of the gardens’ literature. “Once, I must have been about eight, would guess . . . I was here on a school trip and we were allowed to rent the sailboats. I chose one in red and green and readied it for entry. There was another child
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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
