Sasha (Mixed Drinks #1) (21 page)

Emma and I had begun to spend more and more time hanging out together, and that made Bash happy, so I was happy to do it. Emma really can be a sweet kid when she wants to be. And on the flip side, she can still be a little she-devil when she wants to be. She has continued to prove her commitment to her craft of devilish deeds by moving on from disappearing personal items to playing a few ‘harmless’ pranks on me. First there was the spider being tossed at me over the shower curtain, which sent me into a screaming frenzy, calling for Bash to come kill it, like a crazy person. Then there was the ‘accidental’ spillage of water onto the crotch of my pants, to make it look like I had peed in them while we were in a restaurant with my parents; they found it comical. And my all-time favorite was when she changed some of the numbers in my phone, so I was always calling the wrong number. It took me almost a week to find them all.

As Jean’s health started to visibly deteriorate, Emma had begun to ask me questions when she couldn’t get answers from Bash or Jean. Knowing that they wanted to tell her in their own time about what was really happening, I did my best to change the subject. But they were running out of time, and I was running out of topics.

Jean was starting to sleep more and more, and Emma was spending more and more time at Bash’s house, so that meant that if I wanted to see him, I was there, too. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice waking up to him every morning. I hadn’t been back to my apartment in weeks, other than to grab some more clothes and check on Betty.

Poor Betty, she had felt the strain of my being gone, as my refrigerator was now usually empty. Sometimes I would buy a few things and stick them in there when I could, but I didn’t want to be too obvious that I was really just buying the stuff for her.

When I did drop by, Betty and I would usually chat about a few things, and then I was out the door again, back to Bash’s house. I really wished she would find someone her own age to play with. She hasn’t seemed like her chipper self lately. I guess I didn’t realize how much our short interactions actually affected her. I really should make a point to get home more and hang out with her.

On one Tuesday evening, Jean wanted Emma to spend the night at her house, since she had a little more energy and felt up to it. It was weird not having Emma at Bash’s, and I think I kind of missed her even. Then again, it did give Bash and I a chance to be alone, and maybe have some more hot, steamy sex, rather than the G-rated,
quiet
variety I had grown accustomed to.

I rushed home from the lunch shift that day to shower and get dinner ready to surprise Bash with. I had picked up a pizza, so it wasn’t really a matter of getting dinner
ready
, but I did put it in the oven on warm to keep it nice and toasty. I still needed to shave and get dressed in this naughty little number that I ordered off of the Internet.

After doing my hair and makeup, I attempt to squeeze myself into the tight corset. After about ten minutes of trying, I finally get the thing zipped up. I had no idea that you needed to be a contortionist to get into one of these fuckers. Next up were the stockings attached to some garter straps. Front, no problem. Back,
big problem.
After about twenty minutes of twisting and turning, I was starting to enter into panic mode. I pick up my phone and decide to text Bash.

Sasha: What time are you getting home?

Bash: I’m running late, I stopped at Jesse’s. Maybe an hour or so.

Perfect! I now have enough time to throw on my bathrobe and some winter boots, then jump in the car and race over to Megan’s house. The traffic lights must have known that I was half-naked under my robe, because I hit each and every red light along the way. I finally pull up to her house, jump out of the car and make a mad dash to the door.

I pound on the door, while doing what only can be described as a pee-pee dance. Normally I would just walk in, except the bitch locked the door. Megan finally opens the door, and I push past her.

“Emergency, I need your help!” I demand.

“Dead body?” she asks, laughing and looking me up and down.

“No, I bought this fucking outfit and I can’t get the stocking attached.” I blurt, opening my robe to show her my new lingerie.

“Oh Sasha, you shouldn’t have. I have a boyfriend, maybe you’ve met him?” she says while pointing behind me.

Without thinking, I turn around to see Matt standing there, jaw on the floor, eyes glued to my abnormally large boobs. “Shit!” I screech as I close my robe.

“Regardless, I’m in a hurry. Bash will be home soon, and I want to be waiting for him. I need one of you to clasp these fucking things so I can get home and get laid.” I confess, unashamed to lay it all on the table.

“Wow. Yeah, that would be Megan’s department. I just take the stuff off,” Matt says with a smile and backs away slowly, while still staring at my chest.

“Oh fine, come here. Let me do it,” Megan reluctantly agrees while laughing so hard that tears start trickling down her cheek.

Megan tries to quickly clasp my garters to the stockings. Except it takes her longer than expected to complete the task because she poses for a picture that Matt has decided to take in the process. I shoot him a dirty look and remind Megan that I am in a hurry.

A few minutes later, I’m hooked up and ready to go. I rush out the door, shouting a
thank you
as I run back to my car. I have no idea why lingerie companies make this crap so hard to get into. I mean really, what are you supposed to do, short of calling on your best friend? You can’t really call your boy toy into the room and say,
honey this is your surprise for later, but I need your help right now to get it ready
. Yeah right, like that would work. You would just end up flat on your back on the bed, faster than a speeding bullet.

I pull up in front of Bash’s house and run inside, do a quick makeup check, grab the pizza out of the oven, grab the plates and wine and set up a nice little carpet picnic in the living room, just in time to hear the door opening.

As I throw myself to the floor and roll onto my stomach, I put my legs up behind me and look seductively at Bash. When he finally turns around to see what I have done, his jaw drops then morphs into a surprised smile.

“Dinner or dessert first?” I ask coquettishly.

“Defiantly dessert!” he responds enthusiastically while moving towards me, taking off his shirt.

I stay on my stomach, wanting him to work me over by kissing every inch of my back before I turn over and surrender to him.

He complies and hovers over me, starting by kissing my neck and moving down my spine. When he gets to the corset and starts to move the zipper down, I stop him. I spent too much freaking time getting into this thing for him to take it off in five point three seconds.
I’m gonna enjoy this thing as much as I can.

I quickly grab his hand and move it away, telling him, “Oh no. You’re not getting in here that easy,” adding a devilish smile. He nods and moves to caress my inner thigh, knowing that it would get me hot and wet immediately. I let out a moan and move my pelvis upward. Bash always knows how to get me going.

Bash is taking his time, kissing and touching every inch of me, as he moves his hands down to the promised land. As he moves the black, lacy, cotton fabric aside, I feel his thumb graze over my panting pussy, and I take a deep breath in, hoping that he will be in me next.

I open my eyes to see him now sitting up, unbuckling his pants. Our eyes are locked; those gorgeous, golden brown eyes have trapped mine, and I can’t look away. He slides his pants down his legs, and I can see that he is rock hard and defiantly ready to rock my world.

He kneels back down, hovering over me. He moves the fabric to the side once again, and now uses his thumb to softly massage everywhere that counts. I let out several groans, waiting and wanting him to penetrate me.

I close my eyes and tilt my head back. Finally, it happens. He thrusts into me, filling me completely. As he thrust into me again, I start to get a funny feeling in my stomach. I realize a second later what it is, and close my eyes in the hopes I can make it go away.

I was concentrating so hard that I don’t pay any attention when Bash grabs my legs and bends my knees, moving them inward, toward my torso.

The noise that follows makes me feel like a bomb has just been dropped, and the sound is echoing through the empty house, as if we were in a cave.

I can’t believe I just ripped one during sex
. That’s right. I farted, passed gas, stepped on the duck, blew the wind out of my ass. Whatever other way there is to say it, I did it. If I wasn’t so mortified that it just happened during sex, I might have given myself a high five for its pressure release and deep baritones. The only thing I can think of now is,
thank god it doesn’t stink
.

Bash was a trooper, though. He skipped a few beats, but didn’t say a word and just kept trying to get me to come.
Yeah, there’s no way that is happening now
. I’m so embarrassed. I guess I shouldn’t have had those hot wings for lunch and then ran around like a crazy person in this skin-tight, sexy little outfit.

Bash did some of his best moves on me, hoping to bring me to ecstasy, but after what had happened, I could not relax. I was practically paralyzed in fear of an aftershock. I ended up faking an orgasm just so he would finish, and I could try to get away from the constant instant replay going on inside my head. When he’s done, I stand up and head for the bathroom. Neither one of us says a word, but he does kiss me as I start to get up.

I felt bad for being deceptive about my orgasm. He was trying so hard, but I knew it was a lost cause on me after that god-awful interruption of mine. I seriously do not want to go back out there. Instead, I want to get out of this fucking outfit, crawl into a hole, and stay there for next decade or so.
That should do it
. But I know I can’t hide in here forever, I have to face him sooner rather or later, and it would probably take me an hour to get out of this thing alone.

As I walk back into the living room, now covered in my robe, I see Bash sitting on the floor, eating a slice of pizza and sipping a glass of wine.
Oh, how do I even begin to apologize?
I have no idea what I would say or do if it was him who passed gas during sex. Sitting on the couch, watching a movie is one thing. During sex is a whole beast.

“Bash, I uh… Um, hmm, well…” I mumble like an idiot.

“Everything ok? You’re babbling.” he says in a casual tone, as if nothing happened.

“Uh well, did you want to talk about what happened?” I ask, now more confused than embarrassed.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, looking at his pizza before taking another bite. He’s still acting clueless.

“Um, well, you know.” I say, still not sure how to proceed.

“You mean when the earth shook and the pillars of heaven nearly came crashing down on us? No, we never need to mention that again.
Ever
.” He emphasizes with a chuckle, and resumes eating his pizza.

I smile and nod in agreement. Bash then changes the subject to why he was late getting home. Jesse had called him at work and asked him to stop by after, because he had something he needed to tell Bash, face to face.

“What did he say?” I ask.

“He accepted a detective position yesterday afternoon, and will move to Minneapolis in a month,” he tells me.

“Well, good for Jesse. However, it’s really sad that he has to move.”

“But Minneapolis isn’t that far, and I figure that once he gets settled, we can drive up to visit. It’s not like he is moving to China,” he says, laughing.

“Yeah I know, but he is your best friend. It’s just sad that he won’t be five minutes away anymore,” I respond.

“He will be having way more fun up there, anyway. Third shift on the Minneapolis police force has got to be more entertaining than here.”

I’m sad for Bash, but at the same time, I’m really happy for Jesse. He really is a good police officer, and his talents really are wasted here. I bet he will make a great detective. He is really good at catching lies.

THE NEXT MORNING, WE WAKE up at 7:30am to the sound of Bash’s phone ringing. Bash tries to ignore it and goes back to sleep, but whoever it is keeps calling, over and over again. He finally reaches over and looks at the caller ID.
Emma
.

“Emma, is everything ok?” he asks, obviously concerned by the repeated calls.

I can’t hear what she is saying, only tones that sound like she is panicking.

“Slow down, Emma. Tell me what’s going on.” Bash says, trying to remain calm.

I jump out of bed and attempt to try and get out of the corset I never took off last night.

“Ok, I’m going to call 911. You stay by Grandma. We are on the way,” he says, throwing the sheets aside and rushing to get dressed.

“Emma, I can’t stay on the phone with you and call 911. Here, talk to Sasha, and I will use her phone to call them,” he says and tosses me the phone.

“Emma?” I say tentatively.

“Yes, please hurry. Grandma is coughing, and there is blood.” Emma says, sobbing on her end of the phone.