The man suddenly lurched to his feet, swaying slightly as he stood. His designer suit was rumpled, and a faint whiff of expensive cologne mixed with the sour smell of booze hit Jackson's nostrils. "Look, buddy," the man slurred, jabbing a finger into Jackson's chest. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but I feel generous tonight. So tell me, what's your game? Do you want me to find this Veronica chick for you? Rough her up a bit? Or maybe you want me to give her a good, hard fuck? Is that it? You like watching, do ya?" Jackson recoiled, disgust twisting his features. The man didn't seem to notice, continuing his drunken monologue. "I could do it, you know. I'm a man of many talents." He winked, swaying dangerously. "I could make her scream so loud, they'd hear it in the next county. I'd bend her over, spank that tight little ass until it's red as a tomato, then-" "Jesus Christ, shut up!" Jackson snapped, his face burning with a mix of embarrassment and a

Jackson winced as the doctor dabbed at his bullet wound, her delicate touch somehow both soothing and electrifying. He noticed how her lab coat hugged her curves in all the right places. "So," the doctor said, her voice low and sultry, "is Olivia your girlfriend?" His eyes snapped up from where they'd been admiring the doctor's... bedside manner. "What? Oh, no. Just a friend." "Interesting. And how exactly did you end up with a bullet in your shoulder, Mr...?" "Jackson," he supplied, trying not to squirm as her fingers brushed against his skin. "And it's a funny story, actually. Well, not funny, 'haha,' more funny, 'Oh shit, I'm bleeding.'" She arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "Right, I was at this pub with Olivia, and we ran into this guy who... well, let's just say he's not my biggest fan. See, he cheated on my girlfriend about nine years back, and I dumped her when I found out." The doctor's eyes widened. "And he shot you for that

Jackson stepped out of the examination room, his mind still reeling from his encounter with Dr. Claire and already looking forward to his follow-up appointment. He barely registered his surroundings until a familiar voice snapped him back to reality. "Jackson! Are you alright?" Olivia rushed towards him, her face etched with concern. He blinked, suddenly remembering that Olivia had been waiting for him this whole time. Guilt mingled with the lingering arousal from his kiss with Claire. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Just a flesh wound, as they say." "It will take a few days to cure," she said, concerned. "Come on, I'll drop you off at your home." He nodded, his mind still fuzzy from the pain meds and the unexpected make-out session with Dr. Claire. He followed Olivia out of the hospital, his feet feeling like they were made of lead. Olivia slid into the driver's seat. He eased himself into the passenger side, trying not to jostle his injured shoulder. As they pulled out of the parking lo

Jackson flopped back onto the couch, adjusting himself in his pants. The memory of Olivia's soft curves pressed against him wasn't helping his current predicament. "You know," Quantum Quill's voice chimed in his head, "if you're that worked up, I could always give you another task involving—" "No thanks," he said. "I've had enough 'tasks' for one day. Besides, I'm not some horny teenager who can't control himself." QQ snickered. "Could've fooled me. But suit yourself. There's a smokin' hot yoga instructor on the sixth floor who'd be more than happy to help you... stretch." "Seriously? You're worse than a frat boy at the last call. I've got more important things to worry about than chasing tail." "Like what? Your perfectly healed gunshot wound?" He grimaced. "No, like the psycho who shot me in the first place. Who the hell was that guy? And where's Veronica? I need answers, not more women to complicate things." QQ's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "All in good time, darling

Chloe led him to an empty mat near the front of the class, her hips swaying hypnotically. He tried to keep his eyes focused on the back of her head, but they kept drifting south. "Alright, class," Chloe called out, clapping her hands. "Let's start with some basic stretches. Jackson here is new, so we'll take it nice and easy." The other students, primarily women with a few men scattered throughout, nodded in agreement. He felt their curious gazes on him and shifted uncomfortably. "First, let's try a simple forward fold," Chloe instructed. She demonstrated bending at the waist and touching her toes with effortless grace. Her leggings stretched tight across her rear, leaving little to the imagination. He gulped and attempted to mimic her pose. He barely made it halfway before his hamstrings screamed in protest. "Need some help?" Chloe's voice came from behind him. Before he could respond, he felt her hands on his lower back, gently guiding him deeper into the stretch. Her touch was