More Than Physical (The Physical Series Book Book 2) (11 page)

The sound of Mitch’s loud laughter filled the air. “You date, huh? When was the last time you actually dated a woman, like seriously? And if you say Abigail, I’ll punch you in the nuts.”

His friend had him there. Mitch knew exactly how much Jackson had lost himself when things ended with Abi. It destroyed him. Broke him like he’d never been hurt before, even though he knew the pain of being unwanted. Had felt it all his life with his own parents who had never wanted him.

So how could he be blamed for not wanting to get serious again after what happened between him and Abigail? That would be like having your arm ripped off by a shark and jumping right back in the water, the shark still circling in the bloody water. No thank you.

Up until now, Jackson had been enjoying the single life. He was free to come and go as he pleased, traveling, going to see new bands, not feeling compelled to ensure the happiness of another person.

Yet the more he thought about it, that’s exactly what he’d always enjoyed when he was with a woman. He liked being in a monogamous relationship, where he could let go and just be himself, sharing in the simple pleasures of life with someone who understood him. Needed him. Wanted him.

And then there was Sasha. Their antagonistic, and often combative interactions, had somehow turned into passionate, intimate hook-ups that left him wanting more with her. She was bright, funny, hotter-than-hell, and a spitfire who seemed to know just the thing to get under his skin. And the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be with her. Yet, Sasha made it abundantly clear that she wanted the complete opposite of a relationship.

For a reason unbeknownst to him, but one that he wasn’t going to question, Sasha did acquiesce Saturday night, staying with him until he fell asleep. But when he woke the next morning, a sliver of light streaming through the crack in the large suite’s window, the bed was empty on her side and she was gone.

A note in her handwriting on the desk told him that she’d had a good time and grabbed a cab back home. She’d call him sometime. Damn…had he ever heard that phrase from a woman and actually questioned the veracity behind it? With Sasha, he knew not to expect a call.

“That’s exactly my point, bro,” Mitch continued, oblivious to Jackson’s thoughts. “Why don’t you make sure to bring a date to my bachelor party shin-dig you and Sasha are hosting. Someone you can have some fun with and maybe get your head back into the game. In fact, why don’t you call Charli Lambert, Mel’s law partner over at Weinstein, Lambert and Schafer. Seems to me you two have a lot in common and word is she’s newly single. Plus, I hear she likes to be the dominant.”

Jackson cocked his eyebrow incredulously. “You’re kidding me, right? The woman’s a barracuda in court and she’d probably eat me alive for fucking breakfast. That woman scares the living daylights out of me.” He shuddered exaggeratedly to make his point.

“The police are likely right at this minute doing a search for her ex’s missing body parts.”

Mitch let out a loud barrel-chested laugh, nodding his agreement. “Yeah, maybe so. But can you imagine what she’d do to you in the bedroom? Fuck, man. You might not be able to walk for a week after being with her, but at least you’d have a smile on your face.”

Shrugging at the thought, he tried to block out the image of the nearly six-foot tall blonde slapping him with a crop while he was chained to her bedpost. Some guys might get off on that shit, but not him. He didn’t mind a little sassy minx like Sasha, who enjoyed taking control every now and again, but bondage and BDSM was not his style.

“I’m not going to date Charli-fucking-Lambert. But I’ll consider your suggestion about bringing a date. We’ll see. Now, I’ve got to read through this contract before we meet in twenty.” He tapped the opened file in front of him before looking back up to Mitch.

“What did you need when you came in here, anyway?”

Mitch slid from his chair and stood, absently picking up a paperweight that was sitting on the edge of Jackson’s desk. Toying with it in his hand, he lifted his eyes back to Jackson.

“I was just curious to see how your night with Sasha went. You two seemed pretty chummy on Saturday night.” His friend eyed Jackson suspiciously.

A lump lodged in the back of his throat as Jackson tried to swallow down the urge to lie to his friend. He didn’t want to ruin things with Sasha before they even started, and telling Mitch about their secret hook-ups would definitely send Sasha on a tizzy. Although, it could work out to his advantage, because whenever they argued, it usually ended in a very sexy interlude.

Keeping his voice as normal as possible, Jackson responded to the question. “We hung out, had some champagne and I gave her a ride. That’s about it.”

He wasn’t exactly lying. Everything he said was all true. Jackson did give her a
really
good ride.

Mitch cocked his head to the side, assessing the legitimacy of his friend’s statement. Fuck, he was going to get outed. As an attorney, you’d think he’d have a better poker face, but Jackson could tell his friend saw right through him.

“Hmm. So you took her home that night and then went home yourself?”

“Mmm. Hmm.” He nodded, his eyes darting to the desk and then back up. Yeah, he was a terrible liar.

“Huh. That’s interesting,” Mitch paused, the paperweight being tossed from one hand to another before he set it back down on the desk. “Because I saw you leave the hotel on Sunday morning.”

Oh shit. Busted.

“Ah, yeah, well…about that.”

There’s was no way to cover his tracks at this point, so Jackson had to man-up and come clean. He’d been cornered and now had to expose the dirty little secret between he and Sasha. However, just as he opened his mouth to divulge the details, his phone rang.

The caller ID flashed Sasha Lee.

Jackson’s eyes flicked between Mitch and his phone and back again, before picking up the receiver. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this, bro. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Saved by the sassy little devil herself.

It was the longest, dullest, most tedious Monday Sasha had ever experienced in her career to date. Her patient load was half of what it was normally, her one scheduled surgery having been rescheduled due to the patient’s travel plans, and the clinic was quiet as a church. A glance at her desk calendar confirmed it wasn’t a holiday.

Boredom wasn’t a scenario she was normally acquainted with. Over the past ten years, Sasha had always kept herself busy with school, work, friends, family events, lots of shopping and a plethora of parties. Truth be told, she would find any way to avoid being alone, even going so far as to once volunteer for a cat shelter. She hated cats.

Call it your typical extrovert behavior, she had no idea what to do with herself when she was alone. It scared her to be isolated with her own thoughts. It brought back too many bad memories.

Today, however, the thoughts that plagued her since Saturday night were of Jackson. She cursed herself for letting her mind wander back to him. The way his lips felt against her hot skin. How his hands felt digging into her hips, pushing deep inside of her. Taking her to the edge with his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

Her legs clenched unconsciously at the memories of the night she shared in his bed. She groaned over her own stupidity and actions, pulling up a new case study on the pathophysiology of surgical site infections in patients who undergo knee arthroplasty. It was an article written by one of her contemporaries that she’d been meaning to read for weeks.

After reading the same two paragraphs several times, her mind nowhere near comprehending the words spread across the page, she yanked out her phone to check her messages. She’d received a short text Sunday night from Rylie asking her how the rest of her weekend had been, since they didn’t get together for brunch on Sunday, but Sasha responded back with only a quick reply, avoiding any detail. She felt a little guilty, knowing she’d have to make up a lie if Rylie had asked anything about Jackson.

Rylie wasn’t at work yet, having informed Sasha on Friday that she’d be in late due to a meeting she had with the wedding coordinator. She’d apparently finally given in to Mitch’s suggestion for her to enlist professional help.

Sasha let out a muted chuckle thinking of how Rylie probably balked –
loudly
– over having to accept help from anyone other than those in her inner circle. She was a very proud woman and prided herself on handling issues on her own. But even Rylie knew she was in over her head with planning a wedding and finally accepted defeat.

Damn, the wedding date was just around the corner in a matter of weeks. A little over a month from now. Which meant that she and Jax had to come up with a plan, and quick, for the bachelor party. They never finished their discussion on the best venue, or made a decision on what to do.

And if it was one thing she hated, it was letting things hang without resolution. Kind of like the feelings she was developing for Jackson. She either had to put an end to their dalliances and go back to the way things were before they slept with each other, or…well, she needed to nail things down things sooner rather than later. And the same held true for the party-planning.

Glancing at the time, Sasha decided now was as good as time as ever, picking up her phone and locating Jackson’s number in her contact list. Her finger hovered over the Call button and finally hit Send before she could talk herself out of it.

Her hand shook with trepidation as she brought the phone up to her ear. This would be the first time she heard his voice since early Sunday morning. She secretly hoped he’d answer using his bedroom voice – the same deep, gravely and very sexy tone he’d used when he was inside her – commanding her to come before he lost it himself.

A flutter of nerves and excitement rippled through her belly, landing in an aching thud between her legs. Just the thought of his voice had her melting, her body responding like it needed its next fix. God, how pathetic was she?

Get over yourself.

He’s nothing special.

You’ve had better.

Liar. Liar. Pants on fire.

“Well, hello there, Shorty. I was wondering if I was going to hear from you, after you stealthily snuck away like a thief in the night yesterday morning.”

And just like that, she was wet. Yep, his voice was the same low and sexy tone that sent all the neurons firing off in her brain, skittering around her body like a pinball, creating crazy jolts of excitement pumping through her blood.

Damn, him
!

She could let this play out in one of two ways: one, shut him down immediately, sidestepping any rehashing of their weekend romp and just get down to the business at hand.

Or two, (which she knew would be much more fun and entertaining, considering the very monotonous day she was already having), she could flirt it up a little. Rile him up just a bit. Stir the pot. Tease the shit out of him. She knew very well that she was capable of worming her way under his skin, getting him so wound up he’d soon be hurling insults at her.

Now that there.
That
was excitement. It made her body tingle just thinking about the explosive nature of their chemistry.

Running her fingers through her dark curls, she shook her head with a secretive smile.

“I assure you, Rowdy. I was in no way quiet when I left your sleeping ass in bed yesterday morning. You were snoring so loud, the people next door thought they were next to the train tracks. You sound like a frigging freight train. My God, you should really get that checked out, if not for health reasons, at least for your future wife’s sanity.”

There was a pause and then some rustling sounds from the other end of the line. “My future wife, huh? Didn’t know we were even at that stage in our relationship yet. But hey, I’m happy to fast track things if you are.”

She heard him snicker, could even visualize the smirk drawn across his face, and wished they were face-to-face so she could smack him upside the head.

“I’m not talking about me, you dumbass. I have no intentions of tying myself down to a man for the rest of my life. I’m too young, sexy and independent for that serious shit.”

“The thought of tying you down is getting me hard. Just so you know.”

Jackson’s words hung out there like wet clothing on a line - heavy and intoxicating - as Sasha had to shift in her chair. Crossing and uncrossing her legs, she felt the heat rising up her chest and neck, the suggestive idea dirty and forbidden, sending tingling vibrations between her legs.

She cleared her throat, voicing her response in a soft, seductive whisper. “So, the boring attorney is into ropes and gags and alike? Seems a bit too rowdy even for
my
Rowdy.”

Before the word even came out of her mouth she tried taking it back, but it was too late. He’d heard the possessiveness, intimating at more in their relationship.

She tried for a quick cover-up over her fumble, but he wasn’t having it.

“I mean, you’re as tame as they come, Jackson.”

“
My
Rowdy? I kind of like that,” he said, elongating the
my
in his statement, drawing it out like a piece of taffy between his lips. “And I hope I can put those accusations of being tame to rest someday very soon. We’ve barely scratched the surface on how wild I can really be. And something about you, Sash, brings out the savage in me.”

Gulp.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Talk is cheap, Koda. Now shut-up and listen. My call to you is business, not personal. We have to finalize the plans for the party this week in order to reserve whatever location we decide on and shore up all the details so we can send out invites.”

Although she couldn’t see him, Sasha could hear the air that he had expelled from his chest, and could sense the change in his tone. She liked that. Liked that he could move so easily from playful to serious, instantly conforming to the situation.

“Couldn’t agree more. Then let’s say seven tonight at my place. I’ll bring the dinner. You bring your ideas and your gorgeous self. I’ll text you my address. See you then.”

Before she could even get out another breath or say good-bye, Jackson hung up on her, leaving with her with a Hell-to-the-no response dangling from her lips. Giving her no further opportunity to decline his invitation. He was probably just chicken and worried she’d say no.

And she probably would’ve had she not suffered through such an excruciating day already. But the thought of spending some time with Jax was actually a little exhilarating. There was something about their interactions that made her blood tingle with excitement.

It wouldn’t be so bad having to meet him where he lived, getting the chance to check out his home, where he spent his downtime, and maybe even getting one more bite of the proverbial apple before they went their separate ways, returning to being pseudo-friends.

Sure, why not? What harm could there be in one final hurrah?

****

Jackson’s home was much larger and more elegant than she had expected from a thirty-something bachelor. Yes he was a wealthy man from his business venture with Mitch, but she’d assumed incorrectly that he was living the single life in a condo near Cambridge or closer to Downtown. Instead, he lived in a quiet neighborhood in Wellesley, not too far from Mitch, who was in the neighboring town of Newton. Where her best friend would soon be living once she and Mitch were married.

Sasha would definitely miss the sleep-overs she and Rylie would have at Sasha’s Beacon Hill brownstone. Before Rylie had met and started dating Mitch, the best friends spent many movie and margarita nights hanging out, dishing on life, and just being confidantes. Although their friendship was still strong, Sasha felt the faint sting of the loss of not having her friend available to her whenever she needed her.

Yeah, she was a selfish bitch
.

She knew it. But dammit, she’d come to rely on Rylie’s unique brand of friendship over the years. Rylie and Mark were her closest friends on the planet and they both knew how to effectively deal with Sasha’s often moody behavior and over-the-top misadventures with the opposite sex. Rylie never judged (or rarely, at least), and could sift through the manic mood swings that so often plagued Sasha’s life.

As an only child, Sasha’s well-to-do parents catered to her sometimes bizarre and bratty behavior, spoiling her to the point where she’d learned to act out in order to get what she wanted, when she wanted it. The problem with that lenient parental approach was that Sasha had a rough time dealing with reality once she hit young adulthood, most notably in college when in her first serious relationship.

Andrew was her first and last love. He started out treating her like a queen, probably for the same reason her parents did – until he could no longer keep up with the impossible task. Simply put, he’d gotten tired of trying to placate and meeting her high expectations.

And, unfortunately for her, the point of their demise was that Andrew just didn’t love her enough to want to try anymore. That was the final blow to her heart, which caused her to spin out of control, spiraling down to the deepest, darkest pit she’d ever known.

The memory had her recalling exactly why she was the way she was, and the reason for her unattached lifestyle. And now standing outside Jackson’s front door, it was a good reminder of how she needed to play things with him. Keep it light, carefree, without getting too close, and without developing any feelings.

Just as she was about to ring the doorbell on the massive, Spanish-style arched doors of his Colonial home, the door flew open, offering her an up-close and personal view of Jackson standing in the center of the entry, looking good enough to eat. The lazy, sexy smile that adorned his face suggested he knew that very thing.

Trying to collect herself from the onslaught of lust that was exploding like fireworks from her head to her toes, Sasha took a step back to gain some distance. Just standing in his presence, soaking up his masculinity, had her dizzy.

The man in front of her was delicious. He wore a light blue T-shirt that stretched tight across his broad shoulders and chest, the soft cotton of the material accentuating his muscular frame, showing off his strong biceps and tan arms.

Scanning a little further south, she saw he had his shirt tucked in to the waist of his relaxed-fit jeans, tapering in at his lean hips, but snug enough in the groin region to see the distinct bulge that she was intimately acquainted with.

Ah, she knew that shape well. She’d touched it. Licked it. Tasted it. Her mouth automatically watered just thinking of it again.

But the sexiest part of all? Jax was barefoot and wearing a pair of tortoise shell glasses framing his face, now filled in with a light dusting of a five-o’clock shadow. His short, light-brown hair was still slightly damp, indicative of a shower he must’ve taken prior to her arrival.

Sasha blinked at the sound of his laughter, the amusement evident in his tone.

“You’re looking a little shell-shocked, Sasha. Why don’t you come in and I’ll get you something to drink.”

Jerking her head back up so their eyes met, she noticed how the color of his deep blues seemed to lighten when he smiled. Why hadn’t she noticed this before? Perhaps because he was always so serious with her, or in a heated argument. Or, like this past weekend, his lust-filled gazes were deeper than the depths of the ocean.