More Than Physical (The Physical Series Book Book 2)

by Hill, Sierra

Sasha’s eyes gleamed as she tipped her lips into a smile.

  “Okay, promise not to go postal on me…but we initially hooked-up in Cabo.”

  “WHAT? That was like…eight months ago! You’ve been secretly screwing Jax all this time under our noses?”

  From her peripheral vision, she once again noticed the couple at the table next to them, silently condemning the uproar and obvious interruption to their luncheon. Sasha gave them the finger.

  “No, no, no! It wasn’t like that,” she assured, signaling with her hands the misunderstanding. “Cabo was our first time together and it was supposed to be our last. We agreed to end it there and return things back to their regularly scheduled programming. And that was that…he went his way and I went mine…until you made us start working together on your joint party.”

  Rylie huffed at the remark. “Throw me under the bus, why don’t you.”

  “Whatever, girly. Get over yourself. Anyway, the night of the gala…well, it kind of happened again. And dayum…that man turned me inside out and upside down. Holy shit, the things he can do with his mouth…”

  Rylie held up her hand, waving it in front of Sasha’s face in frantic gesture to stop.

  “Oh my God, no. Please don’t give me any details. Jackson is my friend…I don’t want to picture his mouth doing anything to you, got it?”

  A burst of giddy laughter bubbled up from Sasha’s throat. It’s not like she’d never shared her personal experiences with Rylie in the past, and she’d never been shy about the details. It was understandable, though, that Rylie wouldn’t want the blow-by-blow when it came to her fiancé’s best friend, considering how close they all were.

  “Okay, fine,” Sasha capitulated, grabbing her wallet and credit card to pay the bill the server had just left them. “I’ll spare you the gory details – which, in my book, is the good stuff. But needless to say, the man is very attentive to my needs. And we’ve actually been getting along outside of the fucking. I’ve been having fun with him. In fact, Jackson asked me out on a date tonight.”

  She let the last statement hang out and dangle there for a bit. Just saying it out loud made it feel real. Too real.

  If she were being honest with herself, Sasha was actually a tad nervous about their date later that evening. This would be the first time they’d be out together, doing the normal date thing. The get-to-know-me stage, which was weird in-and-of-itself, because Jackson wasn’t a stranger to her.

  True, they didn’t really know all that much about one another on a personal level. It wasn’t often that Sasha cared enough about wanting to get to know a guy any more than how big his dick was when fully erect, and what position was his favorite.

  Yep. She wasn’t proud of that fact, but that’s how it was. It was different with Jackson. He made her want more than just the superficial and insignificant.

  Perhaps Jackson was an influence on her that she hadn’t expected. He was more than she had expected.

  Gathering up her returned credit card and signing the receipt, they both stood and walked out the restaurant, Sasha following behind her long-legged friend. Sasha always felt dwarfed next to Rylie, who towered over her in her five-foot-eight former volleyball player glory. Even with the three-inch heels Sasha typically wore barely got the top of her head to reach Rylie’s shoulders.

  Regardless of height, Sasha had always felt confident in her own skin. She used that confidence in a manner in which some women used fame or fortune. It got her the things she wanted and needed in life. And lots, and lots, of attention.

  They stepped out into the bright fall sunshine, only a hint of coolness to come hanging in the hot and muggy air. Waiting at the crosswalk, Rylie turned to face Sasha and sighed.

  “Okay, so I’m going to say this only once and I don’t want you to be mad at me.” Her shoulders sagged and her head hung low before she straightened, letting out a long exhale.

  “I’ve grown very fond of Jackson. He’s Mitch’s best friend. Which, by proxy, means he’s now my new best male friend. He’s a really good guy and he’s going to be in my life going forward. And you’re going to be in my life going forward.”

  A small frown etched on Rylie’s beautifully tanned face, her brown eyes saddened.

  Sasha knew where this conversation was heading. She understood her friend’s concern, and frankly, she’d probably be the same way if the tables were turned. In most cases, it was inevitable. After a few dates, if Sasha felt things were growing too serious, or the guy was getting too wrapped up in her, she’d pull away. End things as quickly as they began. It did no one any good to let hearts get involved. Complications had to be eradicated.

  “Rylie, I get it…you don’t have to say it.”

  “No, listen to me. I love you,” Rylie stated, dropping her hands to Sasha’s shoulders and squeezing gently. “You’re my best friend. But I know your MO when it comes to men. You’re a heart breaker. It’s what you do. You like the chase, but once you’re caught, it’s over. And for the life of me, I don’t understand it. Maybe someday you’ll explain your reluctance to let a guy in…but I don’t want this thing between you and Jax to go too far where he winds up hurt. I’m sorry to say it, but you have a tendency to be cruel, Sash. But Jax doesn’t deserve that. He’s a really good man. And honestly…I think you two would actually be great together. Kind of balance each other out, bring out the best in one another.”

  Rylie dropped her hands and grabbed hold of Sasha’s arm, linking hers at the elbow as they crossed the street together to the parked car.

  Unlocking her red Mercedes Coupe with the click of her button, Sasha glanced across the roof when Rylie spoke again.

  “Just don’t fuck with him, okay? Because if you do, I’ll have to kick your ass. And you know I’d win because you’re a wuss.”

  The smile on her friend’s face said it all. She wanted Sasha to find something special and wanted her to take a chance with Jackson. As long as it didn’t cost too much…like their friendship.

  Slipping into the driver’s seat, she started the engine, quickly buckling herself in and merging into traffic.

  “I promise I won’t hurt him,” she said, meaning it with all her heart. “But he might hurt me.”

  The last part was barely a whisper.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was eight-fifteen when they walked into the restaurant and found Madroni’s packed to the brim. Hordes of couples, along with several small groups, all milling around in the bar, others waiting for tables to open up in the main dining room.

  Glad for once that he had used his connections to get this last-minute reservation, Jackson placed his hand on the small of Sasha’s back, leading her forward through the mass of people until they reached the hostess station. There, two young women in short black dresses, hovered over the reservation book, talking quietly and efficiently to one another. The beautiful blonde gracefully lifted her head, her blue eyes smiling brightly as her mouth curved into a broad smile.

  “Good evening and welcome to Madroni’s. Do you have a reservation this evening?”

  Jackson returned the smile and nodded his head. “Yes. It’s under Koda for two.”

  The hostess returned her attention to the reservation book, skimming through the list of names, giving Jackson time to admire Sasha, who was standing uncharacteristically quiet next to him. She was slight and petite, the ivory crepe sleeveless dress she wore contrasting beautifully against her luminescent olive skin. Her shoulders and graceful back were on display in the keyhole racerback dress, making him yearn to gently skim the smooth skin with his fingers and his tongue.

  Later.

  A few stray ringlets of silky raven hair fell in coiled waterfalls against the tops of her shoulders, the rest of her hair pinned in a complicated up-do, highlighting her sleek neck. One that he couldn’t wait to devour with his mouth while his hands unpinned the hair, watching as it cascaded sensually down her back.

  And her legs…good Lord, her toned and shapely legs looked
a mile long, the asymmetrical hem of the short dress barely reaching mid-thigh, accentuated by the four-inch black stiletto booties that adorned her feet. And it wouldn’t be Sasha if she didn’t top off her ensemble with ornate dangling earrings in gold and silver, a long pendant that rested between the center of her breasts and chunky bracelets on both wrists.

  In a word, she looked gorgeous. And he’d yet to tell her.

  “Mr. Koda, yes. Right this way, sir. We have your table ready.”

  As they moved through the crowded room following after the lithe hostess, Jackson trailed closely behind Sasha, not once taking his eyes off her. His hand once again had a mind of its own and rested protectively on the exposed skin of her shoulders. His thumb caressed the warm flesh as he bent his head so that his lips were at her ear. The scent of her skin and air – a heady mixture of floral and fruit – went straight to his groin.

  “You look sexy as fuck tonight, Sash. And I’m seriously debating whether I want to waste time eating dinner in this stuffy place or just bring you back to my house where I can fuck you senseless.”

  He felt her body shudder lightly as she turned her head to give him a wanton smile.

  “You’re going to need your strength and stamina for that, Rowdy. It’s best you have your main course before I give you your dessert.”

  Reaching the cozy booth in the back of the restaurant, a spot he had specifically requested, Jackson gestured for Sasha to sit, as he rounded the other side. The booth was a small U-shape, the table covered by a gold and white table cloth, three pillar candles in the center of the table. The soft lighting of the wall sconces created a romantic and sensual effect, exactly what he was hoping for.

  The hostess handed them with their menus and the wine list, leaving them to peruse the enticing selections. He was just about to ask her what kind of wine she wanted when she interrupted his thoughts, her voice quiet and almost timid.

  “Why did you bring me here tonight, Jax?”

  Thrown off kilter by her serious tone, he set down the wine list across his plate and cocked his head. The booth allowed little space between them and he had to turn his body to look her in the eyes. What he saw there was something akin to uncertainty and accusation.

  “I don’t know what you mean. It’s a nice restaurant – one of the best in the city,” he began, looking around at the opulence and general aesthetics of the place. “I think you deserve to be taken out someplace classy on our first date.”

  Jackson swung his arm behind the booth cushion, his arm barely making contact with her shoulders. Sasha didn’t move away, but stiffened slightly.

  She shook her head, returning his stare. “No. I mean the date with me. I’m kind of a sure thing, don’t you think? We already know we’re good at fucking each another…why bother with this charade of a date? Why not just have a booty call and call it good?”

  Jackson was rarely at a loss for words. Owning an arsenal of verbal skills was a necessity in his profession, for God’s sake. He always knew what to say and how to respond in a tricky situation. Negotiate a deal. Argue a point. Reverse an opinion. Make a rebuttal.

  But he was flabbergasted by Sasha’s declaration of who he was and what he wanted. And yet, it was obviously on him for not clearly indicating how he felt about her. Did she think he was just playing games? That this was a charade to him?

  Of course she hit the nail on the head that he wanted to sleep with her again, that was for certain. But he also wanted to get to know her better, find out what made her tick. Learn the truth about Sasha Lee behind the façade.

  “Christ, Sash. I didn’t realize you had such a low opinion of me.”

  Jackson wrapped his fingers behind the back of her neck, pulling her with a gentle force toward his face. His lips were mere inches from her full, lush mouth. So close he got a whiff of the berry-scented lip gloss that made him want to suck on her bottom lip until he licked them clean.

  Pressing his forehead against hers, his other hand softly stroking her cheek, her deep brown eyes doing their best to avoid his gaze.

  “Look at me, Sasha. So you can really see me. So I can see you.”

  She did as he asked, their eyes meeting and the intensity of her penetrating stare nearly breaking him apart. He knew, right then, that this woman could eventually destroy him. And he didn’t even care. It was inevitable that he was going to fall for her. The only question was whether she’d allow herself to fall with him.

  “I want this” – he said, motioning between their bodies – “to happen. You. And. Me. I want to see where it might lead, but I need you to take a chance. I see what you want others to see – that you’re wild and carefree, emotionally unattached. Independent and strong. And that’s fine. I admire those qualities in you. But I also know there is something deeper. Something, that for some reason, you choose to close off to others. I want you to share it with me. Maybe not right now…but at some point. I’m going to be the man you not only want, Sasha. But also the man you need.”

  Sasha rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Jesus, Jackson. I thought all I wanted tonight was a nice wine, a juicy steak and some fooling around. I didn’t realize you were on the menu.”

  He snorted, deciding it wouldn’t do any good to push her further into territory she didn’t want to go, so he let her off the hook. He wouldn’t pressure her for more now, but he also wouldn’t let her push him away. She was a feisty one, and without a doubt he knew that if she felt backed into a corner, those claws would come out. She might even bite.

  He groaned inwardly thinking about what her teeth could do to him.

  “Well then, let’s get that nice bottle of Petite Syrah on the menu and order up some sumptuous steak. And save the fooling around til after dinner.”

  Jackson gave her a quick peck on the lips and a crafty wink and went about the business of ordering.

  ****

  What the hell is wrong with you?

  She didn’t know if it was the bottle of wine they drank, the heavy conversation from earlier, or just the pure molten male heat emanating from Jackson’s body – whatever it was was clearly doing a number on her, making her own flesh rage with the intensity of a four-alarm fire.

  Sasha excused herself to use the ladies room after they’d finished off their main course. She yanked out a clump of paper towel and ran it under the faucet, dabbing the wet cloth across her forehead and cheeks. She stared at the mirror above the sink, her eyes scanning the pink of her flushed cheekbones – the pink that Jackson had put there with his sexy compliments and from the orgasm he’d just given her under the table.

  Sasha considered herself adventurous when it came to sex and was very open to new sexual experiences. But never had she done anything of the sexual nature in public – unless, of course, you counted that club in Amsterdam after she graduated from medical school. That night was pretty insane – but she was young and her inhibitions had definitely been lowered that night.

  Her excuse now? Pure need and lust. Sasha gripped the edge of the bathroom vanity and closed her eyes, replaying the extremely naughty foreplay that had just gone down as soon as the waitress left with their dinner orders.

  They’d been talking about their families. Well, actually, she’d been sharing details about her parents and how her mother’s social life and high-society status meant that her mother had certain expectations for Sasha in the way of a love life. As in, quit fucking around and find a husband before she became an old maid. Her words, not her mother’s.

  Jackson had been listening attentively to her childhood stories and the reason she’d changed her professional name from the Italian Leonetti to an abbreviated version of Lee. It would have been difficult to make a name for herself in the Boston medical community when her father, Dr. Christopher Leonetti, was a famed neurosurgeon. Living in his shadow, or even worse, getting recognition for being Dr. Leonetti’s progeny, was not how Sasha wanted to build her career.

  She was proud of her heritage, but she wante
d to make it on her own – without the assistance of her father’s name or presence.

  Somewhere along the way, as she was recounting a story about her father’s notorious cousins, the criminal side of the Leonetti family, Jackson began stroking her leg just at the hem of her dress. His fingers danced across the warm skin of her thighs, gently prying them open as he slid them further north, continuing their ascent toward her center.

  His breath was warm, a combination of red wine and spearmint, spreading across her cheek as he bent his head low, his light scruff rubbing against her chin. He whispered in her ear.

  “I want to make you come, Sasha– right here, right now. But you need to keep talking so no one knows what we’re up to, yeah?”

  She gave him a small nod, loving the feel of his lips brushing against her sensitive neck. Her panties were already damp and the ache between her legs quickly growing in her need for him.

  Trying to be coherent when you’re overcome by desire and lust? Not as easy as it seems. Under normal circumstances, Sasha had no problem successfully talking about any subject – whether politics, medical speak, thoughts on the growing concerns over global warming, peace in the middle east. She was a brilliant conversationalist.

  But now? Under the influence of Jackson’s very deft fingers which were gently circling just over her silk panties? Her ability to speak articulately had literally vanished.

  Sasha’s legs instinctively opened wider as his finger hooked under the silky panel of her underwear. She had to bite down on a gasp when he slid through her folds and entered her in one swift motion. Chewing on her lower lip, Sasha willed herself to keep quiet, as her mind and heart raced in time with his finger, which plunged in and out in a slow and methodical pace.

  All she wanted to do was rock against him, to feel the friction where she needed it. As if he knew what she was thinking, his voice came out gravely and commanding.

  “Say something, Sasha. Anything. Just…keep talking, otherwise you’ll call attention to yourself.”

  He added a second finger and she let out a gasp, not caring at that point that anyone might overhear them. “Fuck, you’re so wet. I want to taste you so bad right now.”