Two days had passed since my dinner with Jackson, where he basically offered to be my personal fuck buddy. When he'd asked me, I was surprised that my first initial instinct was to say yes. I mean, when you know someone is capable of giving you the best sex of your life, how can you say no when they offer more?

But I was glad he'd granted me this two-week-decision-making period. Even though I trusted that he wouldn't tell anyone, there was still a chance of someone finding out. Someone could easily spot us walking together or kissing, or even just the hunger in his eyes that seemed constantly present when he looked at me.

To be honest, I did like his rule that, if we went through with this, we would only be sleeping with each other. I would never admit to him that the idea of him with another woman, doing what he did to me, made me want to throw up.

Speaking of things that make me nauseous, I was currently getting dressed to go to a family dinner tonight. My family and Ryan's family in one restaurant. Everyone got along okay, I mean after all, as long as Ryan and I pretended to be the happy couple, they were going to be financially stable for the rest of their lives. I still wish they would explain everything involved with this "deal". Whenever I asked my parents how it was going to work with their business, they shut me out. They would say all I had to worry about was the wedding. Yeah, thanks a lot. Because, planning your fake wedding to someone who you love like a brother-is every girl's dream.

In an effort to forget about all those annoying details, I instead decided to focus on my choice of outfit for the evening. I had on one of my black dresses and my favorite pair of three-inch heels. I was not a pants girl, so I usually wore dresses or skirts. It would be a lie if I said I didn't consider Jackson's opinion when I got dressed tonight. Along with makeup and red lipstick I put on.

Jackson had been sending me some flirty texts over the past couple days, and I had been enjoying it. I should have known he would have used this two-week period to try to convince me to say yes to his offer. But, two can play at that game. So for every flirty text he sent to me, I sent back a better one.

My phone chimed to let me know I received a new text message-and from the notification ringtone, I knew it was my mother. I walked over to my bed where I left my phone. Yep, it was her.

Mom: Did you leave yet? Don't be late. -Mom

I let out a long sigh as I started to type a reply. I told her countless times that adding her signature wasn't needed. She wasn't too tech-savvy.

Me: On my way. I won't be late.

I checked my reflection one last time and a small smile crossed my lips. I grabbed my keys, headed for my car, and drove to the restaurant for this shit-fest.

"So, Anne, are you still going to continue teaching in the fall?" Ryan's dad asked me, not-so-subtly.

Ryan's dad was one of those uptight-never-do-anything-for-myself wealthy businessmen. The infamous, Damian Hale and his wife, Pricilla, lived in, what I called, a three story mansion. They had maids, gardeners, chauffeurs...the works. I was surprised Ryan came out as a decent human being after being raised by them. Correction, he was raised by a nanny. My parents' business was always very successful while I was growing up. But even so, I was lucky enough to be raised without a nanny. Growing up, our house was nice, an expensive two-story, but it was nothing like Ryan's. When I first met Ryan's parents, I felt lucky that mine seemed different, more down-to-earth, somehow. Yeah, how clueless was I? One of the many questions I had regarding this arranged marriage was why did Ryan's family need to merge if they were so rich?

I thought about his father's question again. According to the Hale family, a job like teaching didn't fit the "family image."

"Yes, Mr. Hale. I will continue teaching." So, good luck trying to get me to quit.

"You know, we will always have a job for you at-"

"What grade do you teach?" Jackson interrupted.

He was sitting across from me and I glanced from his father back to him. I appreciated Jackson swooping in to help me, I just hoped it didn't cause more issues. "Um, fourth grade English."

Jackson nodded with interest. "That's fucking awesome, Harper. Teaching young children is a gift. Wouldn't you say so, Ryan?"

Unlike his parents, Ryan didn't seemed bothered by Jackson's language. He threw me a smile before he answered his brother. "Of course. I've always supported her teaching."

"Thank you," I said to Ryan and Jackson.

As our parents went back to discussing business, Ryan and Jackson got into a debate about the difference between football and soccer.

I sipped my wine and enjoyed the fact that I wasn't being plied with questions for a moment-before my phone vibrated in my purse. When I pulled my phone out, I had to keep a straight face when I read the text.

Jackson: You're looking very fuckable in that dress tonight, princess.

I felt a rush of heat go through my body.

Me: Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself.

His reply was instant:

Jackson: If I didn't know better, I'd say you wore that lipstick to tease me tonight.

He was right. I did wear it tonight to tease him.

Me: I would never...

Jackson: Liar. Well done, princess. I'm now sitting at a dinner table in a restaurant with a major hard-on imagining that mouth wrapped around my hard cock.

Me: Oops (;

Jackson: Have your fun tonight. Turnabout is fair play. Tomorrow...it's my turn.

I glanced at him across the table. I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but, as always, I was eager to find out.

The arrogant bastard knew it, too. Throughout the rest of dinner, he continued to talk and laugh with Ryan. I caught a little bit of their conversation and they seemed to be catching up on things that had happened since they had last seen each other. My mother spent twenty minutes convincing me to go wedding dress shopping with her tomorrow. I was definitely not looking forward to that. She mentioned Ryan's mom had "specific tastes" for a dress and I already knew I was going to hate them.

I'm pretty sure Jackson heard about my plans, because right after I finally agreed to it, he shot me a sly look. A look that said he knew exactly how he was going to get me back for teasing him tonight. My body responded, getting wetter by the second, I couldn't wait.

"I'm not wearing this. I look like the fucking Stay Puft Marshmallow Man."

The wedding dress my mom had picked out for me was puffy in every single area. There were ruffles from the very bottom of the train all the way to the shoulder pads. Why would anyone buy this? I thought, as my mom came up behind me-Every bride in the world should have a no-ruffles policy.

"Harper, you're a lady. Watch your language."

"Mom, this isn't the 1800s. Women are allowed to swear now, along with using vibrators, and having pre-marital sex."

Let's not forget the whole open-relationship thing I had going on. Or the fact that was probably going to engage in an illicit affair with the brother of my forced-groom.

I saw her glare at me in the mirror and I smiled to myself. If I was going to be her personal dress up doll today, then I was at least going to have some fun with it.

"Why are you so crass?" She asked with a disgust.

"Because I don't want to be here." It was as simple as that. If she wanted me to go along with this arranged marriage, fine. I will. But I'm going to do everything in my power to still be me.

"How many times do I need to tell you, Harper? Life isn't always about getting what you want." Her voice came out strained and choked.

I scoffed. "Really? Looks like you, Dad and Ryan's parents are getting exactly what you want."

"Watch it, Harper. You need to start putting more effort into this. You have no idea what...you know what-Never mind. I'm going to get more dresses."

When my mom left to go get more dresses to punish me, I heard the chime of my cell phone. I really hoped it wasn't Ryan. Or his mother. She has already checked in three times with me asking to be more involved in the wedding dress decision. I was dreading another request for me to send her pictures in her favorite God-awful abominations.

Jackson: What are you up to, beautiful?

I had no control over the smile that formed on my face.

Me: Trying on wedding dresses against my will. By the way, thank you for last night. If you hadn't jumped in, I probably would have said something I regretted.

Jackson: Anytime I can bring those pompous assholes down a notch, I'm game.

I couldn't agree more.

Me: So, what are you up to?

I knew his response would probably be something dirty, but I needed a distraction.

Jackson: Lying in bed.

Of course, he was.

Me: Ah, sleeping in today?

Jackson: I'm actually thinking about when I had you in my bed. With my head buried between your legs.

It took me a few minutes to send a reply back to him.

Me: Is that so? What else are you thinking about?

I knew the second part of my text would catch him off guard.

Jackson: I'm also thinking about you begging me to fuck you harder and faster while you screamed my name.

Holy shit. This guy was even good over fucking text messages.

When I didn't respond right away, he texted:

Jackson: Are you wet right now, Princess?

I responded before I could even think about whether or not I should. That's how it was with Jackson Reese. All logic went out of the window. Not to mention, the very detailed rule book.

Me: Yes.

Jackson: Good girl. Now, go to the fitting room and tell me when you're in there.

It's almost like he knew I hesitated.

Jackson: I said now. Then I'm going to tell you what I want you to do.

And he did. For the next fifteen minutes, I did exactly what he told me. Annnnnnd three orgasms later, I was back to trying on those fucking dresses.