by Hill, Sierra
More Than Physical
Book Two
The Physical Series
By
Sierra Hill
Copyright © 2015 Sierra Hill
Published by Ten28 Publishing
Cover Art:
Cover Design: RBA, Romantic Book Affairs
Stock Photo: DepositPhotos
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Find Sierra on the web:
http://www.sierrahillbooks.com
www.twitter.com/sierrahillbooks
www.facebook.com/sierrahillbooks
ISBN: 0692550356
ISBN-13: 978-0692550359
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Prologue
Eight Months Earlier
The empty bottle of tequila lay tipped on its side, hanging precariously off the edge of the small wicker table. Sasha stared at it, her vision blurring as if she were adjusting it through a kids kaleidoscope toy. Her head ached, the bright morning light sending blinding pain through her retinas as she blinked through the haze of the hangover to end all mother-effing hangovers.
She’d woken up slowly, painstakingly aware of the delicious soreness between her legs and the burning embers of sensation along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. The whole night replayed in her dreams, scene by scene, a movie captured in the frames of the film. The filthiest, dirtiest, most forbidden encounter of her life.
Before last night, Sasha had experienced more than her fair share of one-night-stand encounters - thank you very much – but none of them held a candle to this memorable one.
Slowly rolling to her side, the room seemed to shift and move like she was on the weathered deck of a fishing boat instead of the cushioned comfort of the rented condo bed. Sasha groaned and closed her eyes again, willing the queasiness to vamoose. Adios. No mas. Gingerly moving to her back, her hips shot off the bed, as a yelp escaped her extremely parched mouth.
Reaching underneath the sheets, her hands running along the crisp linen, she felt the harsh texture of what felt like a bucket full of beach sand. The irritant wedged between her ass cheeks, scraping the soft flesh of her backside, encrusted to the backs of her legs which were sticky from sweat, ocean water and sex.
Before she could conjure up any explanation of the how or why’s of this uncomfortable dilemma, a deep, husky voice filled the space next to her. One that both grated on her like the sand on her belly, and also had her body heating up like oil on a hot griddle.
“Kind of makes you question the whole allure of beach sex, doesn’t it?” His chuckle was low and laced with intimate knowledge.
Holy shit. This couldn’t be happening.
The panic spread immediately, coursing through her veins like a tidal wave of thick, black sludge. Slowly bringing everything in her brain and body to a screeching halt. Please keep your hands inside the ride until you come to a complete stop.
Prying her eyes open, and with a speed of Apollo Ono in an ice rink, she turned her head to face the direction in which the voice came from. Her worst fear had been confirmed. It wasn’t a dream or her mind playing tricks on her. Because propped up on his side, his naked and tanned torso on perfect display, was Jackson Koda. He lay next to her with a look of unapologetic smugness, his head resting on a bulging bicep.
Oh dear god, how did she let this happen? Whose brilliant idea was it to go dancing last night and order a full bottle of tequila to bring with them down to the beach? Where they took turns with the “have you ever” game and sipped from the bottle until the warm ocean waves inspired them to whip off their clothes and skinny dip in the Sea of Cortez. Together. By moonlight. Their naked bodies slippery and wet, glistening with drops of the Pacific Ocean.
And dammit, tequila made her one very horny hoochy-mama.
“I’m not gonna lie, Shorty. You’re looking a little worse for wear this morning,” he smirked, knowing full well it would get under her skin. His hand slowly rose and lifted a piece of her matted and kinked hair, tugging something from her dark curls. Her head instinctively jerked back in violent disgust. His eyes left her face and looked down at the offending article in his hand. “I’m not sure what this is, but I’m guessing it escaped with you from the beach.”
Swatting his hand away, she looked down to see a dried chunk of sand that had apparently gotten lodged in her wet hair last night. Great. Very attractive.
Uncertainly plagued her. She had no idea what to say or how to act. Normally, she avoided this whole next-morning scenario because she never allowed herself to spend the entire night with a man. As in never ever. It was too much of an awkward scene in the morning light. And awkward was the current name of the game.
“Uh…” Shit, she couldn’t even get out any intelligible words, her entire brain collapsing at the weight of realization. A wet blanket of unbelievable denial.
Jackson dared to laugh at her stammering stupidity. What a prick! He knew this would make her uncomfortable, and he reveled in her shock. He should be thanking his lucky stars that she wasn’t kicking him in the nuts right now.
Actually, that wasn’t such a bad idea. It might get him out of her bed faster and allow her to forget this whole thing ever happened.
“Shut the hell up, Rowdy. Don’t make this any worse than it already is,” she grimaced, pulling up the top sheet to her chin, and yanking it around her body as she stood to get out of the bed. “You need to-”
The words died on her lips as she turned back to look at him, her breath catching and sputtering out.
Good Lord, that man was hotter than sin. Her lady parts began to sing the Hallelujah chorus as she let her eyes peruse down the length of his body – starting at his bare chest, down to his narrow waist and toned abs, past his navel, and then over the wisp of dark blond hair of his happy trail, leading finally to his…oh my.
He was hard. He was naked. He was smiling at her with the naughtiest grin that practically begged her to kiss it right off his gorgeous face. Christ on a Ritz cracker – why did this man have to be so irritatingly handsome? Couldn’t he just get the hint and leave, allowing her to keep her dignity in tact?
“Geez, Shorty. Had I known before that my naked body would stun you speechless, I would have done it long before now. That must be a first for you.”
Jackson snickered, rising to a sitting position, his hands bracing behind him on the
mattress, the hills and valleys of his abdomen doing some sort of rippling dance. Sasha’s head began to spin with dizziness.
Ugh. This man drove her crazy! What could she have possibly been thinking last night falling into bed with him? It had disaster written all over it and they knew it.
They’d disliked one another instantly, since the night they met three months earlier, at a charity event when her best friend, Rylie, went missing. They tried to get along for the sake of their mutual best friends, but Sasha and Jackson were oil and water. Opposite numbers in a math equation that always came up to zero.
They couldn’t help their equally mutual distain, calling each other names, and regularly taunting one another with put-downs and snide remarks. Avoiding each other was difficult, due to the fact that their individual best friends were now engaged, which automatically led to regular foursome dinners and outings.
But not once had anything like this ever happened between them. They were too different, completely opposite in both personality and lifestyles. And lest she not forget the fact that she was not attracted to the man whatsoever. He was a boring corporate lawyer, for goodness sake. He read the Wall Street Journal and went to tediously dull attorney conferences, probably getting his rocks off to contracts and legal case law. Snooze-city in her book. Plus, Jackson had an air of superiority that rubbed her the wrong way. Like he was too good for her and would only tolerate being in her presence because he was being forced to do so.
But the man on display in front of her at the moment was anything but unattractive, boring or contemptuous. His gorgeously tousled light-brown hair, just a shade darker than the beach sand scattered through the bed sheets, brought back an image of her fingers sifting through the soft strands the night before, as his mouth took possession between her legs and brought her the most fulfilling orgasm in recent years.
Knock it off, horny girl.
Oh God, she was going to be sick. Her stomach rolled and pitched, like the waves outside her oceanfront condo. There was no way this could be happening. She was not going to embarrass herself in front of Jax. She had to find a way to get him the hell out of her room before all hell broke loose.
“Listen, Rowdy. Last night-”
“Was incredible,” he interrupted, his hand unconsciously rubbing the skin just below his belly button. If she wasn’t feeling so piqued, that move would have turned her on, sending her straddling him in a blinding second.
But instead, the bile in her throat threatened to make its escape as she threw a hand up to her mouth to stop its progress.
Shaking her head violently, she continued. “Uh, no, that’s not what I was going to say.” Sasha took a breath, inhaling the humid sea air breezing through the open villa windows.
“Jax, it’s obvious we got carried away last night – tequila can do that. But it was all a mistake, and one that I don’t plan on making again. So, if you don’t mind, let’s chalk it up to one crazy tequila-soaked night and move on. We can forget it ever happened. It’ll be like Vegas. Except what happened in Cabo, stays in Cabo. So, get your naked ass dressed and out of my room before we have to explain this to Mitch and Rylie.”
She felt proud of the fact that she kept her voice calm and remained in control of her stomach contents as she laid out the truth to Jackson. Surely he would jump on her little speech and invitation. At least they could agree on one thing.
Instead, Jackson had the nerve to lay back down on his back, swinging his arms up behind so his head was cradled in his hands, a smirk slashed across his handsome face.
“Yeah, about that, Shorty…I choose to agree to disagree with you. I don’t think I could ever forget the things we did together last night. The feel of you coming against my tongue and my cock is definitely unforgettable. And that little gasp you made when I put my pinky-”
“Enough. Shut the hell up,” she said, before he could finish his sentence. She did not want to remember all the wickedly hot things he did to her, with or without his pinky. Wishing instead for a drug to wipe away all memories of last night.
Sasha stood there fuming, her indignation growing, despite the fact that his dirty words sent a flood of arousal to her core. Because yeah, it was pretty damn amazing. Jackson may be a tame and stuffy corporate attorney out of the bedroom – which was why she had given him the name of Rowdy in the first place, because he was so far from it. But in bed, this man was anything but humdrum. He was a procurer of orgasms. A sexual mechanic who knew how to tune up her engine. A carpenter who used his tools to make her scream.
No, no, no. N to the motherfucking O.
Steeling herself against the onslaught of those images, Sasha straightened and willed her eyes to go back to his ocean-blue gaze.
“I guess it’s nice to know I had that effect on you, Rowdy. But that is neither here nor there,” she waved her hand in the air, the sheet still fisted tightly in her other closed palm. “I’m telling you right now, this will never happen between us again. I’m not looking for anything more from you except for you to act like an adult and move on. So, let’s shake on it and agree to keep this our secret.”
Sasha shoved her hand out in front of her, proffering it to her naked bed partner.
Turning to his side, Jackson cocked his head, lips pursed as if he were weighing out the terms of this agreement and looking to persuade her otherwise. His deep blue eyes flashed challenge before they shadowed with resignation and acceptance. He sat up once again and reached for her hand, pulling her down so they were face-to-face, her mouth just inches from his full lips.
“Fine, Sash. Have it your way,” he reluctantly conceded, his thumb strumming over the top of her hand.
“I’ll play along with your little game, but I’ll never forget last night. So just know this...” He turned her hand over, palm facing up, tracing along the lines in her hand. She tried to pull her hand away, but he resisted.
“Every time I see you going forward, Sasha, I’m going to remember everything about last night. And don’t think for one second that I won’t try my damnedest to get you back into my bed. You have my word on it.”
He yanked her forward so she lost her balance and fell into a kneeling position on the bed, his lips capturing hers in a demanding and persuasive kiss, his tongue slipping past her lips and awakening the desire she’d tried to tamp down.
Sasha’s head spun and her stomach churned, as she pushed against his chest to right herself, finding her footing on the side of the bed. He released her then as she clamored to a standing position, her chest rising and falling in rapid beats.
Jackson eased back against the headboard, his grin telling her everything she needed to know.
Jackson Koda was not going to play fair.
Chapter One
“You are absolutely stunning, and I fucking hate you.”
Sasha stuck out her tongue, and then smiled in awe as her best friend pirouetted on the small platform in front of her. They’d been in the dressing room for less than thirty minutes when Rylie picked out and tried on the wedding gown she currently wore.
Goddammit, she was not going to cry. Nope, not going to happen. Stay strong. Stay focused. Stay calm.
Shit, don’t cry.
“Oh my God, Rylie. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful,” Sasha swiped away an errant tear. “Or so feminine, for that matter.”
Rylie stood facing the three-way mirror and flipped her off, smirking at her best friend’s remark.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but I can turn on my feminine wiles when the occasion warrants. Plus, you’ve badgered me for years to try and look like a girl. I figured I’d try and give it a go at least this once.”
Rylie smoothed down the satiny material of the A-line, form-fitting strapless gown. She looked back into the mirror, shifting from side to side, her long, dark pony tail swaying back and forth in the same manner. “It is rather pretty, isn’t it?”
Sasha stepped up to join Rylie on the platform, watching her friend’s fa
ce in the mirror as she placed her hands on Rylie’s shoulders, where she leaned in to rest her head. Rylie was a good six inches taller than Sasha without heels, but with the bridal shoes she was wearing, Rylie now appeared like a giant next to her. Which made her stifle a giggle at the nickname of Shorty that Jackson bestowed upon her.
“I know this is so cliché, but you are going to be the most beautiful bride ever. I’m so happy for you, Ry. And truth be told, a little freaked out that you’re going to do this.”
Stepping down off the platform, Sasha turned to extend her hand to Rylie, giving her the balance she needed to follow her down.
“I know…it does feel a little surreal. I never thought I’d be the first one to the altar between the three of us. I somehow imagined Mark would be the first to go. He’s such a sentimental twerp.”
Nodding in understanding, Sasha smiled at the reference to their little trio of friendship - Sasha, Rylie and their friend Mark, who had all met during med school. Sasha and Mark were studying to become orthopedic surgeons while Rylie worked toward her Master’s in physical therapy.
By most standards, Mark and Sasha were your typical medical professional sluts. They both appreciated the opposite sex and enjoyed the company as often as they could get it. But when their lives revolved around studying, graduating and becoming a doctor, they had no time for serious relationships.
Those hook-up apps that are so commonly used today? The ones that allow you to find someone local, get to know them via chat, and then meet to bang each other’s brains out? Yeah, those apps were invented for people like Mark and Sasha. And they were okay with that. It worked. Unless you were Sasha’s mother, who desperately wanted her only daughter to find a doctor son-in-law, preferably Jewish.
Rylie was the anomaly. Tough, athletic, born into a blue-collar household and raised by her father and brother. She was a late-bloomer when it came to dating and men. But once she found the right man who could challenge her, the game was on.
