Jax and the best sex ever dancing in her head.
Jax .
She could hardly wrap her brain around it. She, Becca Mancini, had actually had sex—the dirty, erotic kind—with Jackson Hart. It was everything she’d imagined it would be. It was also stupid. Like, unholy-demons-had-invaded-her-body-and-made-her-sin-in-the-naughtiest-of-waysstupid. What had she been thinking? He was the only man who’d ever broken her heart, and she’d gone right ahead and served her body up to him on a silver platter. The moment he’d mentioned doing it again, she’d panicked. Big time. She still felt bad about throwing him out naked, but he’d warned her—told her right up front that she was playing with fire. And like a hormonal teenagerwith no regard for the future, she’d rushed right in without a second thought for the messy consequences.
Well, no more. Sex with Jax had cleansed her system. They’d acted on their physical attraction and it was time to move on. No harm, no foul. No more third degree burns that would take years to heal.
She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead. Why was it so freaking hot?Must be the flames on the set, because it sure as hell wasn’t thoughts of Jax raising her body temperature.
Becca shook her head to clear her thoughts. He had no business being here today. She needed to remain focused. After all, it was only the biggest shoot of her life. It had to go well. She couldn’t afford any screw-ups. The FDNY had taken a big risk entrusting an unknown with the annualfundraiser, and she would not let them down. Hell, she wouldn’t let herself down. She had this. Because if she didn’t? Well, her parents’ offer to move home was always open, as they were too happy to remind her every Sunday at dinner. But she wouldn’t take them up on it. She was determined to stand on her own two feet, which was exactly why she’d gotten her own apartment in the first place. Ifshe had to work a day job until she got her photography business off the ground, so be it.
Keeping her attention focused on Mr. July, she snapped another half dozen shots as he flexed his ridiculous eight-pack and slung a coiled hose over his shoulder. The damn thing probably weighed close to a hundred pounds and he was slinging it around like it was nothing.
It was totally badass.
From her position on the warehouse floor, she was getting a great angle on him, the light hitting his slick muscles just right. “All right, Vic. Enough with the serious stuff,” she said, climbing to her feet and dusting off the front of her oversize I Love Wild Things T-shirt. It was a futile effort. The warehouse was perfect for the shoot, allowing them to bring in charged hoses, trucks,and even flames in a controlled setting, but it was filthy and she was going to be a hot mess when it was over. “Give me a smile. A real one.”
It was Vic’s first shoot, and he’d been so nervous in the beginning, but she had some good shots of him once he’d relaxed. It hadn’t taken long to figure out the guys weren’t exactly on the job for the fame and fanfare. Sure, they’d take off theirshirts and strut around for a good cause, but they tended to be camera shy. It was her job to make them feel as comfortable as possible. After all, the fans wanted to see them in their natural element, and while these guys liked to carry on and have a good time, they were all business on the job. Their lives depended on it.
Vic, bless his heart, tried to smile, but it came off like a grimace.Time for a different approach. She just hoped the FDNY didn’t sue her for sexual harassment.
“Hey, Vic. Is it true firefighters go in when it’s extremely hot and don’t pull out until it’s dripping wet?”
The god-awful pickup line earned her a real smile. He even tipped his head back, a hearty laugh rolling up from his belly. Perfect. It was the shot she needed.
“Yeah, so don’tprime the pump unless you want to squirt a little water,” he shot back, shaking his
Jax .
She could hardly wrap her brain around it. She, Becca Mancini, had actually had sex—the dirty, erotic kind—with Jackson Hart. It was everything she’d imagined it would be. It was also stupid. Like, unholy-demons-had-invaded-her-body-and-made-her-sin-in-the-naughtiest-of-waysstupid. What had she been thinking? He was the only man who’d ever broken her heart, and she’d gone right ahead and served her body up to him on a silver platter. The moment he’d mentioned doing it again, she’d panicked. Big time. She still felt bad about throwing him out naked, but he’d warned her—told her right up front that she was playing with fire. And like a hormonal teenagerwith no regard for the future, she’d rushed right in without a second thought for the messy consequences.
Well, no more. Sex with Jax had cleansed her system. They’d acted on their physical attraction and it was time to move on. No harm, no foul. No more third degree burns that would take years to heal.
She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead. Why was it so freaking hot?Must be the flames on the set, because it sure as hell wasn’t thoughts of Jax raising her body temperature.
Becca shook her head to clear her thoughts. He had no business being here today. She needed to remain focused. After all, it was only the biggest shoot of her life. It had to go well. She couldn’t afford any screw-ups. The FDNY had taken a big risk entrusting an unknown with the annualfundraiser, and she would not let them down. Hell, she wouldn’t let herself down. She had this. Because if she didn’t? Well, her parents’ offer to move home was always open, as they were too happy to remind her every Sunday at dinner. But she wouldn’t take them up on it. She was determined to stand on her own two feet, which was exactly why she’d gotten her own apartment in the first place. Ifshe had to work a day job until she got her photography business off the ground, so be it.
Keeping her attention focused on Mr. July, she snapped another half dozen shots as he flexed his ridiculous eight-pack and slung a coiled hose over his shoulder. The damn thing probably weighed close to a hundred pounds and he was slinging it around like it was nothing.
It was totally badass.
From her position on the warehouse floor, she was getting a great angle on him, the light hitting his slick muscles just right. “All right, Vic. Enough with the serious stuff,” she said, climbing to her feet and dusting off the front of her oversize I Love Wild Things T-shirt. It was a futile effort. The warehouse was perfect for the shoot, allowing them to bring in charged hoses, trucks,and even flames in a controlled setting, but it was filthy and she was going to be a hot mess when it was over. “Give me a smile. A real one.”
It was Vic’s first shoot, and he’d been so nervous in the beginning, but she had some good shots of him once he’d relaxed. It hadn’t taken long to figure out the guys weren’t exactly on the job for the fame and fanfare. Sure, they’d take off theirshirts and strut around for a good cause, but they tended to be camera shy. It was her job to make them feel as comfortable as possible. After all, the fans wanted to see them in their natural element, and while these guys liked to carry on and have a good time, they were all business on the job. Their lives depended on it.
Vic, bless his heart, tried to smile, but it came off like a grimace.Time for a different approach. She just hoped the FDNY didn’t sue her for sexual harassment.
“Hey, Vic. Is it true firefighters go in when it’s extremely hot and don’t pull out until it’s dripping wet?”
The god-awful pickup line earned her a real smile. He even tipped his head back, a hearty laugh rolling up from his belly. Perfect. It was the shot she needed.
“Yeah, so don’tprime the pump unless you want to squirt a little water,” he shot back, shaking his
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