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82 a while for fun!
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My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 83 Deadpan
Inside, Monica have to pause to let her eyes adjust in the weathered brick foyer. It’s clearly darker than outside, but as they go through the inner doors, a whole new world is revealed. Suddenly, her phone vibrates with a message from Julien telling her that he can't make it to her apartment as he has two important meetings to attend. She frowns and goes ahead. Everything is swanky, with dark oaks, red leather, and brass touches that give the club a sense of understated luxury. It’s the sort of club that he could imagine the Curies sitting in, sipping wine and discussing science and art with Cousteau or Renoir. It has the aura of age and the feeling of immortality. On one side of the club is a beautiful bar with a brass rail and multi-colored bottles all contained in their own little cubbyholes, some of them labeled, some of them not. Filling the other three walls is a collection ofbooths and tables, intimate and lit by a candle in the center of each. The centre of the space is a wo
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 84 Club?
Beatrice answers Molly’s question. “Of course, French men are the best kissers. You should see what they can do with their tongues.” She smiles a secret smile, and Monica considers getting a little sample of an actual French, French kiss while she is in Paris. Solely for comparative purposes, of course. Unbidden, an image pops into her little head . . . of Jackson Corbin tilting her jaw up before slowly and purposefully lowering his full, sexy lips to Monica's. No . . . stop that, Monica! You are a single mother for god's sake! Admittedly, Jackson is sexy as hell, and the way he looked at her was insanely hot, but there was off limits and then there is a blow u her lifestupidity. He definitely falls into the latter. “But they kiss everyone, not only you. That’s what you must remember. In my experience, French men are notorious philanderers, usually with a wife and a mistress at least,” Beatrice adds, dashing cold water on her momentaryhot fantasy. “That’s fucked up,” Monica growls.
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 85 What's the rush?
Julien landed at the airport surrounded by his colleagues and the other parties. His navy suit is still fresh when Catalina steps out of the private jet wearing a white dress fitted to her slim body. Her hair dyed in black and blue. When the chief's eyes snap to her she smiles and they both exchange hugs and handshakes. "Well, what are you both doing for the evening?" Julien winces and looks up and says, "I came to meet my ex-wife. She has a lot going on so I thought I could stay by her tonight. And Catalina has a party to attend anyway. It was a pleasure to meet you, Tom." Tom nods and goes on board to his plane for the time. Well if Monica was not already intrigued, she was now. With all four of her new friends nodding their heads and the waitress’s approving judgment, Monica nods. “Fine, but I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Monica starts to follow the waitress, only to hear Molly call out, “If he can get you off that fast, make him do it twice." She looks back, horrified. There’s musi
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 86 All mine
Jackson holds his hand up, gesturing to the waitress who was waiting nearby. She instantly comes over with a bottle of Dom Perignon and two champagne flutes. She pours the bubbly efficiently and hands them off. He lifts his into the air. “To professional growth, then.” Monica holds her glass tightly. “I don’t trust you.” The bluntness is refreshing, nothing like he was used to. In fact, in his experience, women are typically coy and sly with their words. Monica was honest and forthcoming, and he finds himself doing the same. “American women are so astute. Truth be told, you shouldn’t trust me. You’ve bewitched me, and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I can’t stop.” Jackson lifts his glass once again. “To distrust and honesty, then.” Monica laughs and raises her glass to clink against Jackson's. “That’s an awful toast, but the truth, at least.” She sips her champagne, and Jackson does the same. “Tell me about yourself,” Jackson demands gently. “Not what was on your application. I don’
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 87 kiss
Jackson was about to kiss her when they were interrupted by a group of young women breaking into the VIP section and running toward him. There was a flurry ofFrench squeals, cell phone flashes, and napkins thrust his way. In the mean time, Monica pulls back from him and a woman sits down in the tiny space between them, wiggling in an attempt to push Monica further away. "Jackson, Jackson . . . can you sign this, please?” “Will you take our picture?” “J’adore vous.” The mob of women seems to be some sort of girls’ night out affair because they have matching dresses on. Jackson would love to tell them off for their rudeness, but even now, he was keenly aware that he was a representative of House Corbin, as well as a product in and of himself. Rudeness is not marketable. Still, Monica was watching the whole scene unfold like her words conjured the very thing she mentioned—fans who want nothing more than a kiss or afuck from him as a story to brag about. “One minute, please," he tells
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 88 The body shared
As a stall door opens and an older woman steps out, gives Jackson a quick up and down, and then offers, “I’ll do you if you want.” Without Monica’s fire, this restroom seems seedy and dirty now. Or perhaps it is not the place, but simply the lack of the woman he desires. He wants to be back with Monica, her mouth giving as well as taking, her body writhing for closeness to his as she makes that melodious moaning sound again. Startled, he blinks, spins on his heel, and strides out of the restroom. He scans the dance floor once more but doesn't see either Monica or the other ladies. Hopefully, they all left together and are back at their apartments getting some rest to prepare for tomorrow like Monica said. As he thinks he will do the same. Being at the apartment Monica inhales and exhales as she bends to take out the spare key of her apartment from under the flower pot. But she doesn't sees it. She gets frantic as her soul tells her something inside her apartment is waiting for her r
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 89 A desire
Jackson's dog definitely likes to push him around, and the sound of his alarm clock means one thing . . . time for his human to feed him. “Not now Xerx, you’ll get your food soon. But you won’t get as much if you don’t stop barking,” Jackson tells him. Xerxes yaps one more time then goes quiet, rolling onto his back and offering his belly for a rub. He was a regular belly rub slut. Jackson shakes his head at his antics, rubbing gently and cooing a kind ‘good morning’. Once he was calmed down, he lies back in bed with his arm behind his head and thinks about his dream . . . and last night. Monica’s lips and tongue, the way she tasted, and her responsiveness are seared into his little brain. None of it’s helpful for his hard-on that has returned, pulsing and leaking underneath the sheet. Following Monica to the club and pursuing her was a spontaneous decision, the kiss even more so. Professionally, it probably was not the bestmove, but personally, Jackson loved every second of it. The
My Dismissive Fake-Love Marriage 90 outskirts with Jackson
Originally a military armory and powder magazine owned by The Sun King, Louis XIV, the orphanage was started by Napoleon III before yet again they decided that royalty was something they were better off without. Now, it’s one of the largest non-religious children’s homes in Paris, andas Jackson pulls up, he thinks about this ritual. He typically comes on Saturday mornings, but with the weekly competitions culminating with Saturday evening fashion shows, he have made other arrangements for the next few weeks because the care given here is close to his heart and he wouldn’t dream of skipping hai visits. He parks, smiling to himself as he sees that his five charges are already outside, warming up by kicking a soccer ball around. There is tall, blond and lanky Claude, who can jump like a mountain goat yet somehow stumbles over every pebble in his path. Or sometimes even when there’s nothing but air in his way. There’s Raphael, who’s dark, deep-voiced, and stocky. Though still a teen, he
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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
