More Than Physical (The Physical Series Book Book 2)

by Hill, Sierra

  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 bulg
e 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.

  She moved past him in the entryway, his body angling to the side so she could step through with room. As she did, she caught a whiff of his crisp, earthy scent and felt the warm touch of his hand on the small of her back. She shivered as the combination of his touch and smell flooded her with riotous senses.

  Moving into the spacious foyer, Sasha was greeted with a stunning view of his home. The hallway in front of them led to a generous kitchen opening up to an inviting family room with an incredible oversized stone fireplace, a large ornate rug on the floor in front of it. A bright and sunny library was to the left of the kitchen area, where hundreds upon hundreds of books lined the shelves. She smiled at the thought of Jax sitting in his leather chair next to the fireplace, reading a classic such as War and Peace, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, as he absently pushed them back up.

  They entered the kitchen, the granite countertops tidy and clean, as he turned toward the back counter which was set up as a bar.

  “What are you thirsty for, Sash?”

  God, the sound of her abbreviated name rolling off his tongue was hypnotic. He didn’t often use it, so the change was a bit disconcerting.

  “Oh…hmm. How about a vodka tonic?”

  Jackson nodded and turned his back to her, allowing her an uninterrupted moment to stare at his butt. Damn, that man could model for jeans. Perfectly sculpted and round, his ass was made to drive women crazy. And it definitely did it for her. The thought of his naked ass in her hands had her biting her lip and pressing her thighs together tightly.

  Turning her attention elsewhere, lest she get a little too overheated, she noticed he had some music playing in the background. She knew music was something of a hobby for Jax, but wasn’t certain in what sense. This particular song was slow and melodic, somewhat haunting.

  “Who are we listening to?” she asked, heading to a brown leather sofa that sat in front of the fireplace. An image of Jax laid out on the rug, the fire burning low behind him, the light dancing off his naked body, suddenly flashed through her thoughts.

  “I have it on a shuffle play right now. This is a musician called City and Colour. I think this song is called You and Me. It’s an older song, a duet with Pink. I have a very eclectic musical taste.”

  She took a deep intake of breath, the lyrics penetrating her thoughts, as if they were written specifically for her. “You can be flawed but perfect for a person. Someone who will be there for you when you fall apart.” How peculiar it felt to have those words sung, like a page from her own personal diary.

  “Hmm. I like it. It’s beautiful.”

  She was startled when his voice came from behind her, making her jump in surprise at his close proximity.

  “I like beautiful.”

  Jackson handed her the drink, clinking his beer glass with her martini glass.

  “Cheers. Here’s to all things beautiful.” He winked and motioned for her to sit down.

  Suddenly the red floral shift dress that she chose to wear seemed a bit indecent, as she sat back on the soft-cushioned leather couch and looked down to see the short shirt riding high up her thighs. Sasha had always dressed with a daring and bold flare. It was her trademark. She liked expensive, flirtatious and stylish clothes that showed off her assets. And she always used it to her advantage when it came to the opposite sex.

  In this case, it definitely had an effect on Jackson. She glanced over to where he sat at the end of the couch and noticed his eyes hovering over the exposed skin of her legs. The heat alone pooling in his eyes had her shifting further back against the cushions.

  No one would ever suggest that Sasha was shy, not since she was delivered, kicking and screaming, the day of her birth. Nor could anyone ever deem her to be conservative, in any way, shape or form. What she had, she flaunted.

  Sasha was a shameless flirt and took outrageously calculated steps to get what she wanted, even going so far as once corning the young, twenty-something Rabi Levi in synagogue one Sabbath when she was thirteen. Yes, it was highly inappropriate and definitely against the Ten Commandments, but that didn’t stop her then. She wasn’t ashamed for her behavior and it didn’t faze her one bit.

  Granted, her behavior that day was greeted with embarrassing censor and consequences, but she had gotten the reaction she wanted out of the young Rabi that day. And reactions to her boldness were what motivated her – got her blood flowing.

  Yet, Jackson’s wolfish-stare, which was currently caressing her body, as if he were actually physically touching her, evoked a bright blush to ribbon across her cheeks. His sensual perusal of her and his penetrating stare, made her feel like a shy, little virgin. The lamb to his wolf. The prey to the predator.

  Sasha swallowed the lump in her throat, adjusting her position by crossing her legs.

  “I can see what you’re thinking, Jax. But I’m not going to fuck you again.”

  She issued the warning, mostly to remind herself that their affair could go no further. She couldn’t get involved with a man like Jackson. She had to nip this thing in the bud right now, before it got too out of hand.

  His lips quirked up into a self-assured smile. One that said he knew her better than she knew herself. He was calling her bluff.

  “Oh really? I think I’ve heard that from you before. And yet here you are. And unfortunately for you, or perhaps fortunately, you can’t resist my charms.”

  The gall of him.

  “Arrogant much? And I think you have things a little backwards, my dear man,” she said, leaning forward and pinning him with her stare. “I think it’s you who can’t resist me. I’m just that good. You’re addicted to me already. You want more of me, and knowing you can’t have me is a turn on. Admit it.”

  She jabbed her finger into his chest to prove her point but was suddenly jerked forward when he grabbed her finger. Jackson wrapped his long, sleek fingers around it and brought it to his mouth, his lips parting as he slid it in. He took a long pull, sucking it hard - reminiscent of the attention he lavished between her legs not so long before. Just the thought of his mouth on her had her aching and wet.

  Why was this man so hard to resist? Why was the act of him sucking on her finger such a turn-on?

  Normally she was the one making the advances, doling out the foreplay with men, getting them amped up with her sexual come-ons. Yet here was this incredibly sensual man who seemed to know exactly what to do to throw her off her game. Jackson pushed the boundaries and knew how to take back control, gaining the upper hand without blinking an eye.

  Sasha closed her eyes briefly to regain her composure, pulling her hand free from his grasp, her finger still wet and warm from his mouth. She moved back an inch to incorporate some much needed distance. It was too easy to lose herself when she was this close to Jax. The chemistry and pheromones too strong to battle.

  Sasha didn’t even like the man – at least she hadn’t wanted to like him. She wanted to go back to their incessant arguing, their bickering and verbal jabs at one another keeping the flood of desire at bay.
That was much easier than giving into his sexual prowess once again.

  “I don’t mind admitting it to you at all, Sasha,” Jackson conceded, scooting closer to her on the sofa, eliminating the space she’d valiantly tried to establish. “There is something I find absolutely irresistible about you. It’d be easy for me to say it’s just your beauty, or your sassy attitude. But that’s not all there is to you, is there?”

  His muscular thigh brushed against her leg, the effect a rippling heat that penetrated through her skin down to her marrow. Had she ever felt anything this intense with any other man?

  “You try to hide yourself, Sasha. I can see it when you don’t think anyone’s looking. Underneath that snarky façade of yours. Behind the flirty, Devil-may-care persona, you have a deep soul. And although you try to project something different, I know it’s there. And one way or another, I’m going to find out the real you.”

  Jackson’s hand reached out to stroke the underside of her jaw, but she turned her face away, avoiding his gaze and his comments.

  A sharp pain in her chest discharged, the crack unearthing a slew of long-hidden emotions that she wasn’t willing to acknowledge.

  Not if she could help it.

  Because her heart, and her secret, were never going to be shared again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The following week went by in a blur, with a trip to Baltimore and D.C. added to Jackson’s already too busy work schedule. He’d barely had time to come up for air, working fifteen hours a day on some upcoming projects for Camden Ventures. Yet, somehow every time he had a free moment, his thoughts would drift back to Sasha and her visit the previous week.

  Jackson hadn’t seen or spoken to her since she left his house that night, but they’d corresponded through a few email exchanges and texts. Mostly about the final plans for the upcoming party, with a few flirty, dirty texts thrown in the mix that had an immediate effect on his dick the minute he read them.