More Than Physical (The Physical Series Book Book 2)

by Hill, Sierra

  Had he not been expected as the guest of honor at the dinner, Jackson would have said “fuck it” and put his best power of persuasion skills to use, talking her out of that dress entirely. But unfortunately, that wouldn’t be happening tonight, much to his dismay.

  As he raked his gaze over her, he noticed Sasha’s normally curly, long hair was fashioned straight and sleek, parting to the side and flowing down over her shoulders, the ends just brushing the tips of her breasts. His first instinct was to push the silken black hair behind her ear and bend down to cover her breast with his mouth. She looked that edible. Unfortunately, he had to restrain himself.

  “Are you just going to stand there and gawk at me all night, or come inside so I can finish getting ready?”

  Jackson blinked, realizing he had been staring and lost in his fantasy, his mouth suddenly very dry. The words she spoke were snarky, but it was clear Sasha didn’t mind his intense perusal. She was the type of woman who relished the fact that she captured the attention of the entire male species. She owned it.

  And he wanted to own her.

  Unable to put voice to what he really wanted to say, Jackson went the altogether, uncultured male route. “Your hair looks different. What did you do?”

  She pursed her lips and gave him a classic “you’re an idiot” look. “Gee, Einstein. Nothing gets past you,” she snickered, picking up her clutch and wrap from the dining room table, ushering him back toward the front door. “Rylie and I went to a spa today and then a salon. I had a Brazilian blow-out.”

  All he heard was the word Brazilian and his eyes headed south between her legs. He might have even salivated.

  Her laughter brought his attention back to her hair.

  “Oh my God, you doofus. Not a Brazilian wax…a blowout. It’s a straightening technique to make curly hair silky straight.” She reached out for his hand, guiding it to her head and encouraging him to feel the texture.

  “See? Doesn’t it feel soft?” she smiled innocently.

  Almost as soft as her pussy.

  Jackson took a step back and cleared his throat, letting his hand drop to his side, when what he really wanted to do was run his fingers through her hair as she knelt in front of him, her hands and lips wrapped around his…

  Fuck, this was going to be a helluva long night if things kept up at this rate.

  “And as for the other Brazilian technique…well, that makes other female parts pretty soft and silky, as well. I may or may not have gotten one of those recently, too.”

  She stopped in front of him, cocking her head to the side, obviously waiting for his reaction. All he could do was nod his head in understanding.

  Trying to gain back some semblance of control, Jackson took the wrap from her hands, turning her around to face the door, placing the lacey material over her shoulders. He let his fingers linger there before gliding them down the length of her arm, caressing her light, olive-colored skin. He smiled when he felt her tremble underneath his touch.

  Leaning down so his mouth touched the shell of her ear, he whispered, “I remember all too well how soft and smooth your female parts are, Sasha,” he emphasized, his lips brushing down her neck. “My mouth, my fingers and my cock remember it, too.”

  Jackson circled his arm around her waist when she nearly stumbled reaching for the doorknob, catching her from careening into the door.

  “Watch yourself, Shorty. I’d hate for you to land on your knees in front of me.”

  He snickered as she wiggled out from his hold with a haughty, high-pitched squeak. Sasha was always game to dish it out, but couldn’t quite handle having it handed back to her. Turnabout was fair play.

  Once inside the car and headed to the hotel, their conversation once again moved into party planning mode.

  “So, have you given any more thought to the theme?” she asked, flipping down the visor to check her lipstick. “I’ve come up dry.”

  Honestly, with the week that he’d had so far, the bachelor party had been the furthest thing from his mind. But one idea had come to him after his trip to New York.

  “Yeah. I’m not quite sure why you’re so gung-ho on having a theme. Why don’t we just rent a small venue, have a live band play some fun music, and get everyone trashed? And maybe throw in some strippers for tradition’s sake.”

  Sasha’s hand came out like a whip to smack him, but he caught it mid-air, grabbing hold of her wrist and bringing it down to lay on his thigh. She squirmed, trying with little result to pull away, but he kept it there with a gentle squeeze. He groaned when she dug in her spiked nails as a warning, but he still didn’t let go.

  As if giving into the futility of it, she finally relented, her hand growing lax against the taut muscle of his quad. He liked this side of Sasha, when she finally let go and gave in. It was like winning a race, beating out the most worthy opponent and relishing in the win.

  His finger swept over the back of her hand, tracing the smooth skin with his thumb. Sasha twisted in her seat to face him, and although he kept his eyes on the road, he knew just how beautiful she looked.

  “You would want to go for easy and boring. Figures,” she huffed.

  “I like easy,” he deadpanned, waiting for her reaction. He got it in the form of her claws gripping his thigh hard. “Oww. I also like it rough.”

  He loosened his hold and she removed her hand from his thigh, bringing it back to rest in her own lap, giving a deep sigh of exasperation and defeat.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she conceded, toying with the taffeta of her dress. “I know Rylie wouldn’t want some crazy, over-the-top shindig. Maybe in this case, less is more.”

  Jackson whipped his head to look at her, staring at her in disbelief.

  “Wait. Did you just agree with me?” Jackson smacked the steering wheel with a loud thump. “Holy shit, call Ripley’s Believe It or Not. This is unbelievable and completely unprecedented.”

  “Oh shut it, Rowdy. You’re really not that funny. You think you are, but you’re not.”

  Sasha grabbed her lip gloss from her clutch and lacquered up her lips. He could smell the light hint of berry from where he sat and the Pavlovian response hit him straight in the groin.

  “What?” she asked, turning to him and noticing his hands now white-knuckling the steering wheel. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s the matter.” But his body said otherwise. It remembered the taste of that berry lip gloss. And how he could taste it for days afterwards.

  Jackson lightened his grip, shaking his head to wave off the thoughts tumbling around in his brain.

  “So, can we plan on going more low-key? I have a band in mind that we can probably get. I saw them last week in New York. I can contact their agent and we could just put them up at one of hotels and pay for the gig. That should be easy enough. There…I’ve done my part. The rest is on you.” He bit his lip to hide his smile, knowing she’d flip out with that comment.

  Four. Three. Two. One.

  And there she was, right on cue.

  “Seriously, asshole? I am an extremely busy woman, Jax. A full-time surgeon and clinic owner, if I need remind you. I don’t have time for all the party-planning by myself. This is supposed to be an equal partnership. We agreed.”

  Jackson pulled into a parking spot in the hotel ramp and turned off the engine, the stillness in the car deafening. Unbuckling his seat belt, he leaned over the console, catching Sasha by surprise with his sudden nearness, his face just inches from hers.

  “Yeah, Sash. We agreed all right.” His arm reached across her waist, brushing the soft planes of her legs, unhooking the buckle at her lap. He stared into her deep brown eyes, witnessing the desire flare.

  Jackson’s hands wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her in, capturing her in his hold. He watched as she wet her lips a second before his mouth took possession. It was hot, wet and incendiary. There was no other way to describe the chemical reaction between them. And he felt like he’d explode from the
burn it caused.

  He could have kept kissing her all night, the banquet be damned, because he wanted her that much. But they were also parked in a public location, with people coming and going in every direction, and they were easily visible to anyone who looked in. So Jackson did what was necessary and pulled away, pleased with himself when she let out a sigh of regret.

  “But maybe, Sasha…just maybe, I want to renegotiate the terms of that agreement with you.”

  And from the look in her eyes, she knew exactly what agreement he was referring to.

  Chapter Seven

  Who knew that Mitch Camden and Jackson Koda, partners in Camden Ventures, were such hot shit in the field of green industrialization and building? Apparently everyone in the field, based on the packed auditorium of local and foreign business leaders, who were all there to celebrate the achievements of these two humble and brilliant men.

  Mitch and Jackson were the darlings of the industry – the Matt Damon and Ben Affleck at the 1997 Oscars. And everyone wanted to bask in their creative genius.

  Jackson had held Sasha’s hand when they entered the lobby, reluctantly dropping it when she motioned toward the ladies room. Sasha was so turned on by the brief, but toe-curling kiss she shared with Jackson in the parking ramp, she had to excuse herself to the restroom the moment they arrived in the reception hall, hoping that a few minutes alone would help her gain some semblance of control.

  “I’ll go check in and see if I can track down Mitch and Rylie,” Jax had said before she walked off. “I’ll meet you at the bar.”

  Unexpectedly, he leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her nose. The action had her belly fluttering with excitement over his sweetness.

  “By the way, you look extraordinarily hot when you’re flushed from my kisses. It makes me wonder just how wet I’d find you right now.”

  Sweet Mother Mary.

  She loved it when he talked to her like that. Dirty. Raw. Wild. And anything but stuffy and boring. Maybe her nickname for him hit the mark far more accurately than she realized.

  Never before had Sasha been at a loss for words. She was in her freaking element with quick one-liner responses and a pro at snarky comebacks. And she was born to flirt. Yet her tongue was literally tied, unable to find anything pithy to say, because Jackson did something to her that no other man could do.

  He was domineering, but not overpowering. He was confident, but not overtly arrogant or cocky. And he said what he meant, and meant what he said. Which meant she was in a whole shitload of trouble if she couldn’t get her body and mind on the same page.

  Rushing down the hallway and into the lux powder room, Sasha used the time alone to get her nerves under control. For the first time in her life, she was actually nervous. What the hell? That was uncharacteristically unlike the normally bold, sassy Sasha Lee. The women who knew what she wanted from a man and never had to work too hard to get it.

  Sasha gazed at her reflection in the mirror, noticing the rosy hue of her cheeks that Jackson had pointed out. If someone didn’t know better, they might think she was glowing because she was happy. Maybe even a little smitten.

  Shit. Fuck. Damn. No way, not going there. Wrong street, wrong address, wrong zip code.

  Reapplying the lip gloss that had worn off from Jackson’s kiss, her fingertips grazed her bottom lip, still swollen from his mouth. Startled when the phone in her clutch vibrated, she dropped her hand and pulled out the phone. It was a text from Jackson.

  Jax: So are you?

  Sasha: Am I what?

  She waited a second after hitting send, watching the bubbles blink on her phone screen.

  Jax: Wet.

  Fuck. Just that one word from him had her thighs tightening and rubbing together to find friction for her pulsing sex. And without the panties she left behind at home, she felt the dampness between her legs, the exact thing he wanted to know about.

  Yes, she was wet. Turned on. Burning up for his touch. Ready to ditch the party and find a nice quiet alcove where she could have her way with him. Agreement be damned.

  The question clawing at her brain was how she wanted to see this thing play out? She could ignore his naughty question, and simply walk back out to him without the slightest indication that his text did anything to her.

  Or, she could be naughty, and ratchet the temp up to an even hotter degree. Play and flirt, and make sure to turn him on so much he’d have blue balls for a week.

  Or, she could just be honest with him and tell the plain, worrisome truth - that she indeed was wet and wanted him to do something about it.

  Another night of hot, dirty sex with Jackson wouldn’t be the end of the world. It didn’t mean she’d lose herself in him. It wouldn’t cause a massive tear in her heart or make her lose her mind in the way she feared. Right? He was only a man. A friend-of-a-friend. A casual acquaintance that she’d fucked one night long ago. He was simply her date for the evening. A wickedly hot, single, smart, handsome, sexy man.

  And the God’s honest truth was that Jackson was a little bit dangerous. And she craved that danger.

  Sasha: Slippery wet. No panties. I might have to touch myself.

  She smiled after she hit send, walking out the beautifully ornate doors of the ladies lounge and back into the lobby. Her eyes surveyed the crowd as she walked back into the room until they landed on Jackson, standing in the middle of a small group, slack-jawed with the phone held in a tight grip. He looked tense. And very, very hard.

  For those around them, completely unaware of the sexting that was taking place, it was probable his bulge would go unnoticed. But to her trained eye, which was keenly aware of the sexual tension brewing, she immediately spotted the thick ridge outlined in his tailored Prada tuxedo. And it sent a thrill of excitement down her spine, and a shot of perverted pleasure, rocketing through her core.

  Jackson hadn’t noticed her walking toward him, and blinked in surprise when she spoke, her voice low and sensual.

  “You really are a glutton for punishment, aren’t you? It’s a shame you have no way of taking care of that,” she commiserated, nodding down to his straining erection. “And you’ll be up on stage in less than thirty minutes.”

  She tsked, wagging her finger in front of his face, giving him a one shoulder shrug before tracing her open mouth with her thumb and index finger. She enjoyed the way his face registered hungry need when he realized what she was implying.

  He let out a mixed cough and groan, his voice raspy and thick when he spoke. “You are a doctor with medical expertise, are you not? You must have some medical advice on how to manage a problem of this magnitude, before I make a spectacle of myself in front of all my cohorts.”

  Sasha tapped her chin with her finger, loving the flirtatious game they were playing. She enjoyed knowing he wanted something from her that only she could give. And she really, really wanted to give.

  “Well, I may have an antidote for the unwanted effects of your particular predicament. But it would require some exposure, which wouldn’t be advisable in our current location.” Her head turned left and right, indicating the crowds of people gathering.

  She felt his gaze burning through her, the need and heat palpable between them. Sasha felt like they were a trapped couple of teenagers with nowhere to go to do the dirty deed. Heading back to his parked car would be uncomfortable. A bathroom stall in a swanky hotel, filled with people he was familiar with, was completely scandalous. And it was unlikely they’d find an unlocked supply closet without getting caught.

  Jackson slid his hands into his front pocket, fiddling with something, as she quirked her eyebrows inquisitively. It turned her on to think maybe he was touching himself like some sort of exhibitionist. But his hand quickly reappeared, with a key card in his grip.

  “If you’ll follow me, Doctor. Your operating table is on the twelfth floor.”

  Damn, she didn’t see that one coming.

  ****

  “We have to be quick. But don’t think for a minu
te that I won’t get you there with me.”

  Jackson barely recognized his own voice as he pushed his hotel room door open, immediately pressing Sasha against the wall the minute they were alone in the dark, quiet room.

  He had no expectations that his night would turn out this way – he had hoped and fantasized, but never expected anything to come of it. Jackson had actually forgotten about the hotel room he’d been awarded until he checked in at the reception desk. They handed him his nametag, honoree packet and the hotel room key all at the same time.

  And now he was thanking his lucky stars for the extra gratuity that the award bestowed. He had waited for this moment with Sasha for over eight months. He dreamt about the feel of her in his arms and the taste of her skin every night since the agreement they made in Cabo.

  Fuck the agreement.

  He wanted her. She wanted him. That was all that mattered at the moment.

  Sasha’s body arched into him, his fingers fanning her cheeks, devouring her lips, tongues melding into one another.

  “Just touch me, Jackson. I’m so close already.”

  Her words. The noises she made when he kissed her drove him wild. There was nothing that he wanted more than to savor her, spend time touching every part of her beautiful body, but he knew they were short on time. He had to be inside her like yesterday.

  Reaching down to the low hem of her dress, Jackson skimmed the long, light-weight material up her silky thigh, past her hips, bunching it in his fist at her waist. He took a slight step back, glancing down as his gaze perused her nakedness.

  He sucked in a breath when he revealed the truth. She really was bare. No panties. And a Brazilian. Fuck. So hot.

  “Sasha, you are fucking wicked,” he said with reverence, as she gave him a smile of approval.

  Jackson’s knuckles brushed over the soft, dewy flesh between her legs. Their simultaneous groans met in the quiet space between them, their heated breaths mingling in the electrifying air.

  Sliding his fingers down through her silky wetness, her body practically convulsed under his touch. She was so responsive. So unafraid to take what she needed and to give as much in return. His cock jerked in response and hardened even further, his restraint all but gone.