No Strings Attached

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.

charge. But the prop master had

land her

towards the ground, Jackson swiftly bent over and, with his long arms, caught her mid-fall. However, the

sight of Jackson in nothing but boxer briefs, holding a slightly shocked Sasha in his

shoulder and stormed out, swearing, "You can act, but you can't get this explicit. We're going home,

It was clear to all that this must be Sasha's long-hidden boyfriend. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh

They started ribbing her.

didn't you talk this over with your beau before shooting? That's on

man's a looker! Spill the beans, what does he do? How come we've

like that, Sasha, your boyfriend should just join the business. Save him the heartache

fuming to the point of explosion. She