by Hill, Sierra
Yet, even though Sasha gave freely of her body to him, she closed up like a clam the minute the fucking was over and the clothes were back on. As if an invisible shield went up around her, deflecting all of his advances in establishing something more. Something deeper.
Jackson had always been good at solving problems and putting together puzzles. He enjoyed challenges. The strategy it took and the patience that had to be employed in order to identify the right solutions to the equation were exactly what he loved to do in his professional career. And truth be told, he’d never had to use those same skills when dealing with a woman. They had all been pretty standard “what you see is what you get”.
But Sasha? She was an enigma. It was as if there were missing pieces of that puzzle that were so well hidden –locked away in a deep, dark place– so that no one could ever truly get a glimpse at the full picture of who she really was. Did she do that on purpose? Was she scared to get too close to others?
Jackson finished mopping up the liquid from his desk and handed back the towel to Casey, who was still looking a bit befuddled and slightly nervous. The poor sweet girl had never really been exposed to this side of him before. Jackson had always prided himself on being a good boss. Patient. Kind. Generous. And he felt guilty as shit for taking out his frustration on her.
Reaching out to lightly grasp her wrist, her head shifting to look up at him as he said, “Casey, I apologize for snapping at you just now. I didn’t mean it.”
Her small smile and trembling lips continued to drive the knife in his gut, the worry etched over her apple-face. God, he was such a dickhead to make this young woman nervous around him.
“It…it’s okay, Mr. Koda,” she muttered softly. “I’m sorry that you’re having a bad day. Do you want me to order you some lunch from that Thai restaurant you love so much? Maybe that will help improve your…I mean, make things better.”
Jackson nearly threw his head back in laughter, but seeing as how Casey stood there looking like a doe-eyed Cindy Lou from Whoville, he held it in and nodded his head.
“Yeah, that would be really nice. Thank you, Casey. And please make sure to get whatever you want, too. In the meantime, do you know where I can find the Phillips and Dodd contract files? I thought they were here somewhere, but I can’t seem to locate them.”
She moved around to the other side of his desk, efficiently flipping through a stack of legal briefs that she’d likely piled there earlier that morning, stopping to pull one out when she landed on it.
“Here you go. I added the tabs where you had me make the corrections last Friday. It’s all there for your review.”
“You’re a superstar, Casey,” he said, giving her a broad smile to ease his guilty mind and with hope that she’d forgive him. “Thanks for putting up with me and taking such good care of things around here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
His smile nearly faltered when he turned his head to look at Casey. He expected to see a shy smile from the compliment he’d given her and maybe a bright blush across her sweet apple face. Instead, what he found was that she had taken a step closer, her hand landing on top of his, which was still clutching the file, her fingers seductively skimming over his knuckles.
“I’d do anything for you, Mr. Koda. Anything.” She purred, her perky breasts brushing the side of his arm, pushing against the tight confines of her sweater. Jackson swallowed and blinked as the flick of her tongue along her bottom lip sent alarm bells blaring in his head.
Jackson dislodged his hand from her, slowly – ever so slowly - like she was a Cobra poised to strike.
“Uh…well, thanks again, Casey. That’ll be all.”
What the actual fuck?
When the hell did this happen? Casey had worked for him over six months and never once had she shown any sexual interest in him – or at least he didn’t think she had. Maybe he had been oblivious to it until now. Perhaps he just had sex on the brain after this weekend with Sasha and he was misinterpreting Casey’s behavior.
He tracked Casey’s half-lidded violet eyes as they raked over his body, her fingertip rubbing a spot at her collarbone, her chest rising and falling with every breath. His dick perked up involuntarily when she moved the fingertip down further, exposing the creamy flesh of her breasts under her parted blouse.
Willing his dick to stand down with images of Fatal Attraction running through his brain, he pressed himself further into the back of his chair, still catching the light apple scent of her shampoo.
Ah shit. Nope, he was definitely not equipped to handle a schoolgirl-like crush from his twenty-two year old assistant.
As young and pretty as she was, and he had noted to himself on several occasions in the past that she did hold a sweet appeal, Jackson was not going to touch that with a ten-foot pole. You don’t shit where you eat. Or fuck your administrative assistants. Or do anything that could get your ass sued in a second by a potentially destructive office relationship.
Mitch chose that exact moment to come barreling through Jackson’s office door, his cell phone pinned to his ear as his eyes scanned what was happening before him. His friend’s face registered shock, and then curiosity, before returning to his usual indiscernible expression. Jackson knew what it looked like. Casey was practically in the process of giving him a lap dance.
Jackson couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, shrugging his shoulders in his defense.
You and me both, bro.
Seeing Mitch in the doorway, Casey must have come to her senses and jumped back, allowing Jackson an opportunity to exhale the breath he’d been holding. Wanting to save Casey from any further embarrassment, he thanked her again, waving the file in her direction as she slinked toward the door with her head down, briefly saying good-bye to Mitch as she passed him, shutting the door behind her as she walked out.
Mitch ended his call and sat down, the look on his face a mixture of surprise, censure and disapproval.
“What the fuck, man? Casey? Since when?”
Jackson sat back into his chair and closed his eyes, one hand scrubbing down his face, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Since never,” he huffed emphatically. “I have no idea what that was about. One minute she’s handing me a file I was searching for and the next thing I know she’s like a cat in heat and rubbing up against me like I’m catnip. Fuck me.”
Mitch tapped his chin with his phone, seemingly contemplating the situation, his eyes assessing Jackson in a discerning glare.
Giving a half-hearted chuckle, he said, “Apparently that’s exactly what she wants to do, man. But it’s good to know you’re smart enough not to fuck around in the office.”
When Jackson gave him a scowl and the middle finger, Mitch just laughed and continued.
“Hell man, I know you wouldn’t. Don’t get your titties in a twist. But shit, you’re single. Apparently handsome by some standards,” he joked, rolling his eyes and curling his lip into a smirk. “Of course a young hottie like Casey would be interested. She sees you every day and you treat her well. Why wouldn’t she develop a crush on you?”
“Because I have never given her any indication that I was interested, is why. Fuck you very much.”
Mitch crossed a leg, picking invisible lint from his well-tailored pant leg, considering the situation. “Perhaps you need to prove that a little more adamantly by getting a social life and start actively dating someone. Maybe if you weren’t so available, she’d get the hint.”
Jackson thought back over the weekend, spending alone time with Sasha. He didn’t want to keep the secret rendezvous from his best friend, but was well aware of Sasha’s need to keep their affair undercover. He didn’t like it, but respected it.
“I have a fucking social life, you douche. And I date.”
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 fr
iend 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.
Chapter Twelve
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 h
elp.
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.”