She hushes me, “I know, Davis, I know.” That is all I need to hear. Knowing this is different, I see a connection in her eyes and know what we now have is special.
As her spasm overtakes her, I watch her and realize I’m a goner. I’m not falling in love with her. I’m past that point. I fucking love Sasha Peterson.
* * *
Today, I wake up with her arms holding me tight. This is when I begin to mentally freak out. It is our last full day together and I’m not going to want to let her go. This is it. Today, we are going to talk about us and a future. She’s not going to brush it off anymore.
“Morning, cupcake,” I say.
“Morning, Davis. I have an idea for today.”
Before I can say that our day will consist of a long talk, she begins, “I want to stay in bed with you. Watch some old movies and feel your hard body next to mine.”
Fuck me, she’s perfect. When I think I’ve hit the lottery with her, I keep on winning millions upon millions more.
“Sounds like the best day, sugar,” I reply and she throws a pillow at me with the sound of one of my many nicknames I call her.
* * *
After I agree to a fucking Shirley Temple movie and it ends, she turns to me with a grin to say, “Okay, we can watch something that blows up now.”
Sitting up in bed, I move into her personal space, forming my hands in a steeple, as I do when I’m about to embark on a hard task. I pat the area next to me and she plants her ample and sweet ass there. It’s as if she has sensed this coming all day.
“Ginger,” I begin, “I don’t want to let you go tomorrow. So our lives are full, but I’m in need of a career change and I can come see you in LA whenever I’m not in China, until I can find something else.” Lifting her head up, for her to see the determination in my own eyes, I continue, “Sugar, I don’t want our tomorrow to be the last time I hold you in my arms or hear that sassy mouth of yours.”
Looking away from me, she only whispers, “I told you not to fall for me, Davis. You won’t get the picket fence.”
“I don’t want the fucking picket fence, I only want you,” I say, bringing her back to my face and moving her eyes to look into my own.
“I can’t give you anything. There’s too much about me you don’t know.”
I nod because I can say the same to her. “Sasha, babe, look at me,” I order in a stern voice. “You have let your defenses down with me, honey, and I love it. Hell, I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”
At those words, she bolts out of bed, pacing naked. “Jake, I can’t do this. I want more with you and shit, I care for you too, but believe me when I say, I can’t give you ANYTHING!”
Standing, I bring her close to me, where her bare breasts are resting against my chest. “I want you to think about this, Ginger, please. I won’t ask again. No, you tell me and we’ll make it happen.” Tilting her head to mine, I kiss her nose, her sweet button nose, and place her back in bed. “Now, you promised me a movie where people blow things up, right?”
Smiling, she straddles my body when she says, “First, I need you inside of me! And yes, I know this is my one fucking time in charge today,” she says in her fiery way.
“I’m glad you’re figuring this all out, sugar,” I say as she sits down on my cock and I fill her up. Man, I swear her body is made for mine and mine alone.
* * *
The next morning as we wake, we mundanely start to pack our suitcases. She joins me in the shower but we do nothing but hold one another. When I grab her suitcase, she only smiles. “Jake, as much as I want to give you more, I just can’t.” This is the answer I’ve been waiting for and though it sucks, I’ll never regret the time I’ve had with her.
13
Our flight to the Grand Caymans is together. On the ride to the airport, I let Sasha sit up front. It is greedy of me when she thinks I am being a gentleman. From behind, I can take her in as she talks to Mack. I can see how her eyes sparkle every time she speaks of Sydney and Cameron. When she tells Mack, she’ll see him in April, I get an idea. But that’s stupid. This has been a one-time thing, over after we part ways at the airport.
Shaking Mack’s hand, I take both my luggage and Sasha’s inside as I give the two old friends time to say goodbye. The truth is, I only have a couple more hours with her and it will be my turn to say the same thing.
The flight to the Grand Caymans is short and predictable but the second we arrive there, just to say our goodbyes, I feel an awkward air between us.
I could walk her to her gate but what good would that do? Goodbye is just that and this is what we’d agreed to. Looking at me, she doesn’t say a word. I look intently to see if she is close to tears. Who am I kidding, this is Sasha. We talked about a lot of bad shit that happened to her, making her the ice queen she’s proud to be. I know that tears won’t happen but the truth is I’m breaking inside. She told me that first night, I would be the one to get hurt and here we are. She’d been right.
I hold her for a lot longer than I suspected she’d allow me to. She never backs away. Staring down at her, I say, “Well, this is where it all ends.”
“Davis,” she pauses and then doesn’t say a word.
“Ginger, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” Kissing her gently, I turn to leave but I stop just five footsteps away. Standing there a long second, I finally turn around to see Sasha hasn’t moved. Before I can say a word, she runs to me.
“I don’t want to say goodbye. Fuck the rules. Fuck the fact that I told you I didn’t want more than a holiday fling. I care for you, Davis.”
I don’t say a word, I only smile until she punches me. “Fuck, Davis, do you know how hard this is for me?” she asks, still glaring my way. This is my girl, every bit of the sour part of her, but I know she has a much sweeter side of her for me to explore.
“I don’t want to say goodbye to you either, Sasha,” I say, taking the auburn hair and brushing it out of her eyes. “I don’t know how this will work but I want to see you again.”
“I’ve got to go home and take care of some stuff. But give me until tomorrow night. We can spend New Year's Eve together. I’ll fly from LA to Spokane to be with you and from there, we can figure it out. We may have to do the long-distance thing for a couple months, but Davis, I want to be near you.”
Cupping her face, I can only say, “I’ll take what I can get. And yes, we can work on a plan.”
After we make arrangements, we say goodbye for now, it is only for thirty-six hours. In a short amount of time, Sasha will be in my bed as I make love to her, over and over again.
* * *
New Year's Eve arrives and I receive a text from Ginger telling me she’s renting a car.
Me: I’ll pick you up?
Sasha: No, I want to meet you there because the second I fall into your arms, I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.
She has a good point and I know I want to be holed in the house with Sasha for the entire time she’s here. I leave for the store to get all the essentials we need, adding whip cream, champagne, and strawberries to the list.
When I walk into my kitchen from the front door, I almost drop my groceries at the sight of the person sitting at my kitchen table.
“Fuck, if I had my gun, I’d have shot you,” I say, glaring daggers at the woman staring at me.
“Jacob, Jacob, Jacob!” she wails. “I want to talk to you.”
Looking at the clock on my stove, I see the time, “You better make it fucking quick, Sylvie! I’ve got company coming.”
The next words out of her mouth would make or break my day because, with fucking Sylvie, you never know.
“I know, Jacob. Ms. Peterson will not be here for another hour. Just enough time for us to have a little chat. Come sit.” She pats the chair like I’m a five-year-old kid.
“What did you just say, Sylvie?”
“Ms. Peterson, I know about her, hell, I orchestrated this whole thing.” Still holding onto my groceri
es, I let them fall when I have the urge to strangle her fucking chicken neck.
I find the closest stable piece of furniture, which happens to be my kitchen sink, and I hold onto it for dear life. It all comes to me now. How could I be so stupid? The trip she took with Hannah. The last-minute holiday package deal, the fact it was not hard to find out that Sasha visits the place every year. Then I remember the fact that Hannah, the only person I cared about spending the holidays with, was booked. Then—this really hurts—the conversation I walked in on where Mack had been arguing with someone on the phone but no names were mentioned. Hell, Mack—he’s one of us—being used by Sylvie. My hands are shaking and I can’t get that smirk of Sylvie’s out of my mind. If I could, she’s still sitting at my table with that same fucking look on her face.
I’m still at the sink, though I have a good view of Sylvie, but I’m looking down. I can’t face her or I’ll gut her.
“Tell me everything, Sylvie. Who is Sasha to you and why did you send me there to get close to her?” My voice is calm but my body is anything but.
“Sasha Peterson is not her real name. Sure, her first name is Sasha, but her last name is Kruchoffski.” Sylvie doesn’t have to say another word. Kruchoffski is the butterball turkeys in the intelligence community. Stravos Kruchoffski is a man of many talents, or many would say, guilty pleasures. From human trafficking to drugs to you name it, he has his hands in all of it. His sons, Demetrius and Lars, are his little generals, finding ways to keep their dad clean in any way so he gets off scot free. But I know they are all bad news with a capital B.
It hits me how Sasha shared her family with me and how they were on the outs after her mom died, a consequence of her dad and brothers’ actions. I didn’t get it at first but knowing the family, Stravos thought his wife had turned state’s evidence. I also realize why “Brutus” was manhandling her in the airport. He is one of her father’s goons.
“She doesn’t have anything to do with her family,” I say adamantly.
“No, but we need her on our side, to help us, and Jake, she loves you. You can convince her.”
“The hell I will, Sylvie. He killed his own wife. Sasha has tried like hell to get away from them. I had no idea she is Stravos’s daughter but I won’t. I can’t do that to her. Do you understand? She trusts me.”
“What will she think when she finds out your real name is Jason Harrington?”
“Fuck you, Sylvie. You know I didn’t change my name to Jake because I wanted to. It was for Hannah. I changed my name for Hannah so she could live a decent life after the shit our own dad put her through. No one would leave her alone. Fuck, Sylvie, you know this.”
“I do know that, of course I do, you little shit, but Sasha won’t. She will just think you’re yet another operative trying to find their way to her dad.”
“I’m just another operative but I didn’t do this to find a way to her dad. You fucking know that.” It all hits me in this second. “You bitch. That is why you didn’t send me on assignment. You knew I’d never sleep with a person of interest but if I fell for her on my own accord, you would use me to bring her to our side.”
“Yes.” That is all she must say in this very second.
“I won’t do it. And you better get the fuck out of my house.”
“Okay, but here’s the deal, Jacob, you can’t have your cake and eat it, too. Either you bring her in, convince her she must turn on her dad, or you don’t see her. If you think you will continue to get her on the side but not provide us the data we need, your little name change will be leaked to her dad and even you can’t protect her from Stravos.” She’s gone the second those words permeate the air. It is a good thing.
Sylvie, true to her word, won’t rat me out to her dad if I leave Sasha be. But telling her I’m a CIA operative that happened to seduce her and wants her to turn her father in will destroy her.
I get a text from Sasha.
Sasha: Davis, I’m on my way.
I don’t respond nor do I have much time. Turning off all the lights, I take a pen and a piece of paper. I scribble on it, attach it to my door with some tape and leave, in my car.
Parking just a half a block from my home, I wait as my chest constricts in the most physical pain I can imagine.
Ten minutes go by and a non-descript sedan pulls along the front sidewalk. She hops out of the car, with just her purse. Fuck, she’s so excited to see me; she keeps her luggage in the car. Oh, she’s so beautiful. I wait for her to get to my front porch and she knocks, not seeing my note at first. Then, she takes the note off the door and sits down on one of my chairs on the porch to read it. I see her hands come up to her face and her head falls and I assume she’s crying.
In five minutes, she walks to her car and leaves.
Though I wrote it quickly, I know it by heart.
Ginger,
This is a mistake. I’m sorry I’m taking the coward’s way out. Please forgive me.
Davis.
Jake and Sasha’s story continues in The Sweetest Package, releasing Valentine’s Day 2018.
Mack and Anna get their story, too!
Need to know more about Jake and Hannah’s parents? You will in Hannah’s story. Coming April of 2018.
Note to My Readers
This is a completely different book compared the three books I have put out in the past! I would call this a true Erotic Novella where as my other books vary from sweet to a little spicy. When I started this book with the idea of Jake Davis, I followed my reader’s requests for Jake’s story. I had thought I may pen down his own book eventually but with his sexy body in two scenes, trying to be a friend to Justine when she needed it the most, I guess he found a way into my readers’ hearts!
However, I was just as surprised by the way this story took on a very naughty nature when the character of Sasha was born in my head. I had one beta reader who was shocked that I created such a story where this brash and crude woman was created from my own thoughts. I am still surprised, too! While I did my final read through for this story, I cringed at spots, not that I am embarrassed by my words, but that my readers may be shocked that the same person who gave you all Julia from The Last Breath, has given you Sasha!
I hope you all enjoy this sexy little novella! Don’t worry; the second part of Jake and Sasha’s story will be here in time for Valentine’s Day!
~Leigh
What I Have Learned
When I knew this Christmas story would take place in a warm weather destination, I instantly thought of the Caymans. Naturally assuming Jake’s story would be on the Grand Caymans, I liked the idea of Sasha and Jake being at a more remote location. As I studied where to actually place them, I fell in love with Little Cayman and it soon became the backdrop to The Holiday Package. Like Jake, the iguana population on Little Cayman too surprised me. I knew once I found this little fact, I would certainly be using it in my story.
Unfiltered
Justine and Nick’s Story
Justine
If I close my eyes, my children’s empty rooms taunt me. In a split second, motherhood has been stripped from my soul. Before I have a chance to explode at my ex-husband, he opens his mouth, and my desire to seize the fire poker and rip out his eye sockets is real.
“Justine, you’re controlling! If I don’t get our kids away from you, you’ll crush them. Your approach is pushing them away. Rose came home today crying because you called her a floozy. And did I understand you right? You called Kai a pothead?”
“Funny how they’re suddenly our fucking kids, when for the last eight years, they’ve been my sole responsibility.” By the time I finish my sentence, I’m screaming.
The vase near my hand beckons me to throw it at my ex-husband’s head; my hands clench against the urge to smash it against his arrogant face. My breath quickens to short gasps. Beads of sweat race down my face, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
In the midst of our showdown, his smug smile leaves me with a desire to slap h
im.
“You can fight me on this, but you won’t win, not now. They’re sixteen and seventeen, and their preferences will sway a judge’s decision!” he yells.
Fear grips me that he may be right. “And when did you graduate from law school?” I ask sardonically as the blood rushes through my head. Fury swells in my gut and anger clutches my chest. I feel as empty as my bank account was the day I left Rafe. How dare he threaten me like this? “And yes, I called Rose a floozy. She’s sleeping with Jones to get attention. Maybe she needs your fucking attention since all your effort has been focused on your new family, instead of the one we started almost eighteen years ago.”
“Oh, this again.” Rafe unloads arrogance in the way only the president could pardon Richard Nixon. “I know, I know, Justine. You use my family as a reason for hating me more and more every time you dump on me.”
I hate Rafe Hernandez, but I also love him in a way I can never articulate. It might have something to do with the two children who want to disown me in this moment.
They own me, though the emptiness they’ve left in my heart mocks me.
“Abuse is not just physical harm, you know,” he retorts.
His vicious accusations prompt me to grab the vase and pitch it just left of his head. My aim is good, and if I’d wanted, I would have hit the son of a bitch.
“You were an ass when we were married, but now, there’s nothing I can say.” I spin around as a single tear falls from my eye. I don’t need him thinking I’ve turned soft through the years. My voice is now raspy from all the screaming.
“Again, this is really mature, Justine!” His arrogance is gone. In a split second, in my anger, I walk toward him. Like the wimp he is, he scurries away from me. He seems almost scared.
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