Chapter 12
twelve
God, that wicked smirk of his makes me want to dick punch him so hard right now.
The sound of his chuckle brushes across my skin. “Dick punch, huh?”
Holy shit! Did I actually say that out loud?
A desperate need to end this interaction before things get even more out of hand floods my veins. Flattening my palms against Jax’s chest, I give him a good, hard shove.
Holding his hands up in defense, he backs up a step.
“Look, I know you’ve been fucked over in the past and it’s keeping you from wanting anything serious.
But no matter how hard you try to resist, it’s not going to stop me from wanting you.
I’m gonna picture you just like this when I grip my cock tonight.
Imagining how I’d peel these wet clothes from your body before I make you sit on my face. ”
Before I can take another breath, he’s crowding me up against the wall again.
The dark, wicked gleam in his hooded eyes makes my pussy clench as they blaze into mine, and I can’t for the life of me make myself look away. His teeth graze along his bottom lip before he dips his head, brushing his lips along the curve of my ear. “I’d eat your pussy so damn good.”
He leans away, watching my chest rise and fall with panting breaths before flicking his gaze back up to mine.
“I might come off as a nice guy on the outside, but inside? There’s a monster itching to break free.
A monster who wants to rip that fucking white T-shirt off your fine-as-fuck body and suck on your sexy as hell tits, while I shove my hand in your panties and finger fuck you until you come so fucking hard, screaming my name.
“But know this... The more you push me away, the more I’m going to chase you. The more it makes me want to prove you wrong. It’s not that it’s not gonna happen, sweet cheeks... It’s just a matter of when.”
And with those words, he pushes off the wall with a smirk and walks away.
Stunned and soaking wet, all I can do is stare after Jax as his words echo in my head.
“It’s not that it’s not gonna happen, sweet cheeks... It’s just a matter of when.”
“Fuck.” I press my palms against the wall, the cool tile doing nothing to staunch the heat writhing in my veins.
My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in the divot of my throat. The ghost of his mouth sucking my clit through my clothes has left me aching for more.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath to center myself. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.
And yet here I am with my back against a bathroom wall, nipples hard, my body on fire from just a few hot-as-fuck words and the briefest touch of his mouth.
“Damn it.” My mumbled words echo against the tile, mocking me.
The last thing I should do is go cuckoo for Coco Puffs over Jax’s Lucky Charms, even if he is magically delicious.
Because there’s one thing I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, and it’s that the heart is not indestructible. No matter how strong and resilient you are, it still hurts like a bitch when it’s broken.
Smoothing some stray damp hairs away from my face, I adjust my ponytail.
After mopping up the bathroom floor, and shooting a quick text to Rick about the pipe, I salvage what’s left of my dignity and lock up.
The drive home is a blur. Not only is Jax’s confidence infuriating, it’s ridiculously hot, and I’m not quite sure how to feel about it.
When I get home, I peel off my wet clothes and drop them into the washing machine. Thankfully, a quick shower and a fresh set of clothes helps to clear my head.
In the kitchen, I set about making lunch. As I nibble on a turkey sandwich, I open my laptop to check my emails. There’s one from Rick, confirming they’ll be in first thing Monday morning to fix the water damage beneath the window, and the pipe in the bathroom.
Relief washes over me as I read through the details. The delay isn’t going to be as long as we thought.
I’ve also been working my ass off interviewing potential staff. Three yoga instructors and two personal trainers have already accepted positions, pending final background checks. With Rick’s confirmation, I’m feeling confident we can still hit our target opening date, barring any more disasters.
Scrolling further down my inbox, I see a name that makes my stomach clench.
Taking a deep breath, I open it.
To: Sasha Garrett
From: Ryan Collins
Subject: Lakeside Location-WTF?
Sasha, I just found out you’re opening a Summit Studio in Lakeside without discussing it with me first. This is a direct violation of our partnership agreement.
Section 3.2 clearly states that any new locations must be mutually agreed upon.
I’m consulting with my attorney about our options. Call me ASAP.
Ryan
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I growl at the screen.
Hitting reply, I start typing furiously.
To: Ryan Collins
From: Sasha Garrett
Subject: Check your contract!
Ryan, I included the Lakeside location in the Q3 expansion proposal that was approved by our investors three months ago.
I sent you a copy, which you obviously didn’t bother to read.
As the majority shareholder I don’t need your permission to open new locations when they’re part of our approved expansion plan.
But please feel free to waste your time and money on attorneys.
Sasha
My finger hovers over the SEND button for a moment before I add:
P.S. Next time try actually reading the documents I send you.
I hit SEND with more force than necessary and slam my laptop closed.
“Asshole,” I huff, shoving up from my seat to pace the kitchen.
Ryan has been trying to push me out for the past year, ever since I refused to sell him my shares after catching him with his pants down—literally—in the supply closet with one of our yoga instructors.
Not only does he constantly try to undermine me, he’s been hinting at the possibility of a buyout.
But I know if I sell my shares to him, I’ll regret it.
Summit Studio is my baby. I came up with the concept, the name, the branding, everything.
He may have put up half the capital, but the soul of Summit Studio has always been mine.
My phone buzzes with a text.
NOIA
Still on for tonight?
I’d almost forgotten we’re supposed to go to The Brew together.
With bells on. Are you coming over first?
She sends a thumbs-up and a wine glass emoji.
Setting my phone down, I try to focus on getting some work done, but Ryan’s email has me too riled up, which tells me I need to blow off some steam.
Grabbing my yoga mat, I head out to the backyard and set up under the shade of a large maple tree.
Moving through my flows helps clear my head. The familiar burn as I transition from warrior pose to triangle to half-moon grounds me, bringing me back to center. By the time I finish with a seated meditation, I’m feeling more like myself again.
As I roll up my mat, I notice movement next door. Jax is out front washing his truck, shirtless. You know, I’m starting to wonder if the guy actually owns any shirts at all.
Muscles flex as he works the soapy sponge over the hood, and I can’t bring myself to look away. The memory of his mouth on me this morning sends a fresh wave of heat through my body. Damn it. Why does he have to be so... everything?
Just as I’m about to head back inside, he looks up. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face, and he jerks his chin in greeting.
Heat floods my cheeks as I hurry inside, cursing myself for getting caught staring. Again.
After another quick shower, I spend the rest of the afternoon catching up on paperwork and finalizing the yoga and aerobics schedule. I’m deep in concentration when my phone rings.
Glancing at the screen, I consider ignoring it, but that would only delay the inevitable.
“What do you want, Ryan?”
“Is that any way to talk to your business partner?” he asks in a smooth, condescending tone. The same one that has always made my skin crawl.
“Cut the crap. What’s this really about?”
He gives me a dramatic sigh. “Look, Sash, I think we both know our business arrangement isn’t working out anymore. We’ve been butting heads forever. It’s getting tiresome.”
“And whose fault is that?” I snap. “You’ve been pushing for me to sell since the moment I caught you with your pants down.”
“Ancient history,” he says, tone dismissive. “I’m calling because I’ve had an offer. A big one,” he adds. “For all of our locations. I’m talking eight figures.”
I nearly drop the phone. “What?”
“Sub Zero Fitness,” he continues with a hefty dose of smug. “They want to buy us out completely. Rebrand the studios and absorb our client base.”
My grip tightens on the phone. “No way.”
“Come on. Think about it. We could both walk away with a lot of money. No more partnership drama. No more fighting over expansion plans.”
“I don’t care about the money. If you want me to buy you out, I’d be happy to check my options. But there is no way in hell I’m selling my shares. Ever.”
“Sash—”
“I said no, and that’s final,” I huff, mentally squaring my shoulders.
“You’re making a huge mistake,” he snarls, voice rising with every word. “This is exactly why we can’t work together anymore, you bitch! You’re so fucking stubborn you can’t see what’s good for—”
I end the call, tossing my phone next to me onto the couch like it’s radioactive, hands shaking with rage.
My phone immediately starts ringing again, but I hit ignore when his name flashes on the screen. I should block his ass. Maybe even contact my lawyers, communicating only through them from now on.
Decision made, I draft another email advising them of the situation and how I want to move forward. Once I’m satisfied with my draft, I send it.
The past twenty-four hours have been one fucked up thing after another, and I could really use a drink.
And with Jax fucking with me every chance he gets, it’s set my libido on edge. I need to get laid. If anything, I need to get drunk and get my flirt on. Having someone else pay me some attention so I can keep my mind off my sexy next-door neighbor?
Sounds like a great plan to me.