trigger of them all.
Sasha rubbed her stress-strained eyes, pulling her attention away from the paperwork on her desk. Letting her mind drift back, she thought about the past weekend with Jackson. Their brief, but oh-so-hot, exchange in the guestroom of Mitch and Rylie’s house.
There was something about that man that turned her on like nobody’s business. He was so stuffy and serious most of the time, but she’d been witness to his lighter side, too. He could joke and laugh, teasing her mercilessly, and he certainly knew how to get under her skin with his antagonistic humor. And his hot and dirty words.
And there was no denying that Jackson Koda was one very attractive man. He was a living, breathing, walking, talking sex god. And damn if she didn’t know it from firsthand experience.
Sure, he was a very good looking man. Tall and lean, trim from playing basketball, squash, or whatever other elite sports uppity lawyers played during their lunch hours, but incredibly fit none-the-less. Jackson’s golden-brown hair was worn short and neat, cropped close on the sides and in the back, with soft tufts covering the top. Long enough to sift her fingers through it and grip onto when he was between her legs.
That night in Cabo, on the beach, was the hottest sex she’d ever had. And lord knows, she’d had a lot over the years. Yes, she was unapologetic about the thrill-seeking habit she enjoyed of getting men into her bed. If some considered that slutty behavior, so be it. She called it a coping mechanism, and it had worked quite well for her by preventing her from latching on to any one man or falling head-over-heels for someone that would ruin her.
And there was no doubt in her mind that Jackson could intentionally, or unintentionally, be that one.
The loud sigh just inside her office doors brought her back from her thoughts. Rylie stood in her doorway looking downtrodden and exhausted.
“Well shit, girly. Either your boss is working you too hard or your sexy fiancé is working you too hard in bed every night. So which is it? And since I’m your boss, you better say it’s the latter.”
Rylie plopped down on the big comfy couch that was pushed against the wall in Sasha’s clinic office. She was a bit surprised to see Rylie looking so dead on her feet. The woman was in phenomenal shape and had more stamina than anyone she knew. Her brain sparked with an inkling of possibility.
Clapping her hands together gleefully, Sasha jumped up and down in excitement in her chair.
“Oh my God, woman. Are you preggers? Is that why you’ve been so tired lately? Holy shit, is this going to turn out to be a shotgun wedding? Do we need to fast track things so you can fit into your dress?”
Rylie’s eyes grew wide with shock and her hands moved like lightning, smacking Sasha against her head in a flash of mock anger.
“Bite your tongue! Don’t even think that,” she cried out in an ear-splitting shriek. “You know damn well that I’m not interested in having babies yet.”
Sasha grabbed on to the pluralized noun she’d let slip. “Babies? As in more than one? So you and Mitch have already talked about how many kids you want together? Damn, girl, your children are going to be so fucking gorgeous.”
She sighed, envisioning beautiful little versions of dark-haired children running around, all little mini-me’s of Mitch and Rylie.
“And you know I can’t wait to be an auntie. Hopefully you’ll have a girl first. I can take her shopping and play dress up with her, introducing her to the styles of Tory Birch, and Michael Kors.”
With an exasperated grimace, Rylie slid back into the leather couch and closed her eyes.
“Don’t make me have to kick your ass. I may not have the energy right now, but I will get you at some point. I don’t even know why we’re talking about this right now. This has nothing to do with a baby or being pregnant, which I’m not, for the record,” she reinforced emphatically. “I’m
Sasha rubbed her stress-strained eyes, pulling her attention away from the paperwork on her desk. Letting her mind drift back, she thought about the past weekend with Jackson. Their brief, but oh-so-hot, exchange in the guestroom of Mitch and Rylie’s house.
There was something about that man that turned her on like nobody’s business. He was so stuffy and serious most of the time, but she’d been witness to his lighter side, too. He could joke and laugh, teasing her mercilessly, and he certainly knew how to get under her skin with his antagonistic humor. And his hot and dirty words.
And there was no denying that Jackson Koda was one very attractive man. He was a living, breathing, walking, talking sex god. And damn if she didn’t know it from firsthand experience.
Sure, he was a very good looking man. Tall and lean, trim from playing basketball, squash, or whatever other elite sports uppity lawyers played during their lunch hours, but incredibly fit none-the-less. Jackson’s golden-brown hair was worn short and neat, cropped close on the sides and in the back, with soft tufts covering the top. Long enough to sift her fingers through it and grip onto when he was between her legs.
That night in Cabo, on the beach, was the hottest sex she’d ever had. And lord knows, she’d had a lot over the years. Yes, she was unapologetic about the thrill-seeking habit she enjoyed of getting men into her bed. If some considered that slutty behavior, so be it. She called it a coping mechanism, and it had worked quite well for her by preventing her from latching on to any one man or falling head-over-heels for someone that would ruin her.
And there was no doubt in her mind that Jackson could intentionally, or unintentionally, be that one.
The loud sigh just inside her office doors brought her back from her thoughts. Rylie stood in her doorway looking downtrodden and exhausted.
“Well shit, girly. Either your boss is working you too hard or your sexy fiancé is working you too hard in bed every night. So which is it? And since I’m your boss, you better say it’s the latter.”
Rylie plopped down on the big comfy couch that was pushed against the wall in Sasha’s clinic office. She was a bit surprised to see Rylie looking so dead on her feet. The woman was in phenomenal shape and had more stamina than anyone she knew. Her brain sparked with an inkling of possibility.
Clapping her hands together gleefully, Sasha jumped up and down in excitement in her chair.
“Oh my God, woman. Are you preggers? Is that why you’ve been so tired lately? Holy shit, is this going to turn out to be a shotgun wedding? Do we need to fast track things so you can fit into your dress?”
Rylie’s eyes grew wide with shock and her hands moved like lightning, smacking Sasha against her head in a flash of mock anger.
“Bite your tongue! Don’t even think that,” she cried out in an ear-splitting shriek. “You know damn well that I’m not interested in having babies yet.”
Sasha grabbed on to the pluralized noun she’d let slip. “Babies? As in more than one? So you and Mitch have already talked about how many kids you want together? Damn, girl, your children are going to be so fucking gorgeous.”
She sighed, envisioning beautiful little versions of dark-haired children running around, all little mini-me’s of Mitch and Rylie.
“And you know I can’t wait to be an auntie. Hopefully you’ll have a girl first. I can take her shopping and play dress up with her, introducing her to the styles of Tory Birch, and Michael Kors.”
With an exasperated grimace, Rylie slid back into the leather couch and closed her eyes.
“Don’t make me have to kick your ass. I may not have the energy right now, but I will get you at some point. I don’t even know why we’re talking about this right now. This has nothing to do with a baby or being pregnant, which I’m not, for the record,” she reinforced emphatically. “I’m
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