Read Online Sasha (Mixed Drinks #1) by Rae Matthews - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rae Matthews
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around the kitchen cupboards. I grab the five candles I own and a lighter and place them around the room, lighting them as I go. I set one next to my CD player, and thank god that I have backup batteries ready to go. I flip the switch on, and press play.
I thought I would start my CD mix off a little on the slow side, since I don’t figure him for the say ‘go’ and jump into the action type of guy, and to be honest, I could use a little time to mentally prepare myself for this. I hear Replay by Zendaya and know that I remembered to put the right CD in. I move to the kitchen to grab my bottle of wine from the refrigerator. As I start to uncork the bottle, I feel Bash come up behind me and place one arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. He moves my hair to one side, exposing my neck. I can feel his breath on my skin, and my heart races with the knowledge that his lips are dangerously close to my body.
I don’t want to seem too eager to just jump into bed, so I use every ounce of willpower I have not to pivot on my heels and kiss the crap out of him. I remain facing the counter and focus on uncorking the bottle, which has now become a very difficult task. I feel him kissing my neck and the automatic goose bumps that follow his touch. I let out a shiver and want to allow my body to relax into his embrace.
I finally get the bottle uncorked and slowly turn to Bash. I look deeply into his eyes and wait for him to kiss me. He doesn’t disappoint me. Just as I’m about to say something, he moves closer to me and I feel his lips on mine. His gentle embrace reminds me how much I have missed being with someone in this way. He is both tender and passionate all at once, and I just want him to rip my clothes off and beg him to take me right here on the kitchen floor. I wrap my arms around him and he leans me against the counter, kissing me harder. As we come up for air, he takes a small step back.
“Sorry, I have been wanting to do that all night,” he admits shyly.
I smile and say, “That’s ok, I’ve been waiting for you to.
Maybe we should take this, and the wine, over to the couch.”
He responds with an even bigger smile. Bash turns to walk to the couch. I’m a little flustered by my own brazenness, so when I go to grab the glasses and the wine, I knock the cork onto the floor. As I bend down to pick it up, it is in that moment when I hear the worst sound imaginable. The one sound that I cannot escape from. A knock at the door, or the shattering of the wine bottle could have been ignored or taken care of quickly. Anything else would have been preferable to hear over the screaming sound of my jeans ripping. That long, right up the ass crack ripping noise that screams at the world that my sure-thing jeans have just died. Normally, I would just let out a sigh of sorrow for my lost friend, have a moment of silence as I remove them, and lay them out in front of me to examine and verify the wound. Not tonight . Instead, they have chosen their time of death to occur at the most inopportune moment. A moment that I have been waiting and longing for.
I realize that I have just been standing still on the spot in the kitchen, struggling to continue breathing. I remain suspended here in my disbelief, hoping that it didn’t really just happen, but nevertheless knowing that it did, as evidenced by the cool air I feel on my exposed ass. I’m not really sure what to do next. Maybe Bash didn’t hear it. Maybe I can just sit down and when the pants come off, I will just toss them aside so he will never know of my private humiliation.
I finally grab the glasses and the wine, along with my nerve, and move over to the couch. I quickly sit down next to Bash and pour us each a glass. As I set the wine on the coffee table and turn towards Bash, I try to see if there is any indication that he knows. He looks back at me with a big smile on his face. Is it that because he knows that my jeans have decided to take fashion advice
I thought I would start my CD mix off a little on the slow side, since I don’t figure him for the say ‘go’ and jump into the action type of guy, and to be honest, I could use a little time to mentally prepare myself for this. I hear Replay by Zendaya and know that I remembered to put the right CD in. I move to the kitchen to grab my bottle of wine from the refrigerator. As I start to uncork the bottle, I feel Bash come up behind me and place one arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. He moves my hair to one side, exposing my neck. I can feel his breath on my skin, and my heart races with the knowledge that his lips are dangerously close to my body.
I don’t want to seem too eager to just jump into bed, so I use every ounce of willpower I have not to pivot on my heels and kiss the crap out of him. I remain facing the counter and focus on uncorking the bottle, which has now become a very difficult task. I feel him kissing my neck and the automatic goose bumps that follow his touch. I let out a shiver and want to allow my body to relax into his embrace.
I finally get the bottle uncorked and slowly turn to Bash. I look deeply into his eyes and wait for him to kiss me. He doesn’t disappoint me. Just as I’m about to say something, he moves closer to me and I feel his lips on mine. His gentle embrace reminds me how much I have missed being with someone in this way. He is both tender and passionate all at once, and I just want him to rip my clothes off and beg him to take me right here on the kitchen floor. I wrap my arms around him and he leans me against the counter, kissing me harder. As we come up for air, he takes a small step back.
“Sorry, I have been wanting to do that all night,” he admits shyly.
I smile and say, “That’s ok, I’ve been waiting for you to.
Maybe we should take this, and the wine, over to the couch.”
He responds with an even bigger smile. Bash turns to walk to the couch. I’m a little flustered by my own brazenness, so when I go to grab the glasses and the wine, I knock the cork onto the floor. As I bend down to pick it up, it is in that moment when I hear the worst sound imaginable. The one sound that I cannot escape from. A knock at the door, or the shattering of the wine bottle could have been ignored or taken care of quickly. Anything else would have been preferable to hear over the screaming sound of my jeans ripping. That long, right up the ass crack ripping noise that screams at the world that my sure-thing jeans have just died. Normally, I would just let out a sigh of sorrow for my lost friend, have a moment of silence as I remove them, and lay them out in front of me to examine and verify the wound. Not tonight . Instead, they have chosen their time of death to occur at the most inopportune moment. A moment that I have been waiting and longing for.
I realize that I have just been standing still on the spot in the kitchen, struggling to continue breathing. I remain suspended here in my disbelief, hoping that it didn’t really just happen, but nevertheless knowing that it did, as evidenced by the cool air I feel on my exposed ass. I’m not really sure what to do next. Maybe Bash didn’t hear it. Maybe I can just sit down and when the pants come off, I will just toss them aside so he will never know of my private humiliation.
I finally grab the glasses and the wine, along with my nerve, and move over to the couch. I quickly sit down next to Bash and pour us each a glass. As I set the wine on the coffee table and turn towards Bash, I try to see if there is any indication that he knows. He looks back at me with a big smile on his face. Is it that because he knows that my jeans have decided to take fashion advice
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