I started to actually feel happy that my jeans betrayed me, because it gave us some time to sit back and relax. Up until said incident, the evening has had so much built up sexual tension; had we continued on that at that rate, we may have just exploded all over each other, making it a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am kind of night. I’m glad the energy changed course, because when it does finally happen, I want to take it all in and remember every touch. However, the bottle of wine is now gone, and I can hear Usher’s U Got it Bad playing, which means Kings of Leon’s Sex on Fire is up next. That knowledge takes my mind back to wanting him to rip off my clothes, since that is what I fantasized about while putting together my playlist. When there is a break in conversation, I start to get up to retrieve another bottle from the fridge, but Bash grabs my hand. I turn back and look at him. “I’ll be right back. I’m just grabbing another bottle for us.” He is stone faced and completely serious when he responds, which seems somewhat out of character for him.
