No Strings Attached novel (Clara and Ian)
Chapter 418

As the director shouted "Action," Sasha stepped into the frame. She scanned the room, finding no sign of the man, only the sound of running water from the bathroom.

Striding to the bathroom door, she was about to knock when it swung open. What she saw was the towering figure of the man.

Jackson was built like a Greek god, broad-shouldered and long-legged, with an eight-pack that could rival any fitness model. Wrapped around his waist was a black towel. The contrast of his bronze skin against the dark fabric was a visual feast, an almost irresistible allure.

This was the second time Sasha had seen a man dressed, or rather undressed, like this. The first had been Chase. She couldn't help but internally scoff. "Chase always bragged about how fit he is, but he couldn't compared to Jackson. Jackson's pecs are more defined, and his abs are an eight-pack, not six like Chase's."

And just as she thought of him, Sasha suddenly called in her mind "Stop!" Why was she thinking of that scoundrel man? Wasn't the young hunk before her tempting enough?

According to the script, Sasha was supposed to slip and fall right into Jackson's arms, and her lips should accidentally graze his chest.

They were aiming for that kind of palpable tension, a scene crackling with erotic charge. But the prop master had overdone it with the water on the floor. Therefore, Sasha's fall was more abrupt than planned.

She hadn't even braced herself when she toppled towards Jackson. The intended move wouldn't land her in his arms; she was on a collision course with a face-plant into the floor.

As her face zoomed towards the ground, Jackson swiftly bent over and, with his long arms, caught her mid-fall. However, the motion was so abrupt that the towel around his waist unraveled.

When Chase arrived on the scene, he was greeted by the sight of Jackson in nothing but boxer briefs, holding a slightly shocked Sasha in his arms. Their skin pressed together, and they looked both intimate and impassioned. The mishap had, in fact, intensified the impact of the scene.

The director was about to yell "Cut!" when a shadow darted behind him. Without a word, Chase snatched Sasha from Jackson's embrace. He threw her over his shoulder and stormed out, swearing, "You can act, but you can't get this explicit. We're going home, and you're never doing a scene like this again. Hell, I'll take care of you if I have to."

Everyone on set's eyes bulged at the spectacle. It was clear to all that this must be Sasha's long-hidden boyfriend.

They started ribbing her.

"Sasha, didn't you talk this over with your beau before shooting? That's on you, girl."

"Sasha, your man's a looker! Spill the beans, what does he do? How come we've never seen him before?"

"With looks like that, Sasha, your boyfriend should just join the business. Save him the heartache of watching you from the sidelines."

Facing the banter, Sasha was fuming to the point of explosion. She thrashed wildly on Chase's shoulder. "Chase, put me down this instant!"

"Not until you promise to drop this gig, or at least scrap this scene."

When she realized that the stubborn man intended to carry her off, her anger hit a boiling point, and she bit down on his shoulder. Images of Chase breaking off their engagement and that sudden bite on her lips flooded her mind.

This grudge wasn't forgotten; the time just hadn't been right.

Chase winced as a sharp pain shot through his shoulder and he grimaced, inhaling sharply. "Sasha, you really bite so hard!"

Only then did Sasha let go, panting, "I learned from the best, didn't I? Now put me down or I'll bite again."

Despite the pain, Chase's lips curled into a smile. "Revenge should be precise, shouldn't it? Last time I bit your lips, not your shoulder."

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