Wasabi Heat
“Her condo‟s short porch forced Zen to stand a breath behind her. Not that she minded his closeness, she didn‟t. With every breath, she inhaled his scent, something masculine with hints of sushi. She liked sushi and she liked him.
The wind began to play with her stray locks of hair. She tucked them behind her ears and blew out the nervousness. It rained around them, but the tiny square porch only gave so much protection.
Finally! The door opened and she turned the knob. The rush of vanilla and j...uniper rushed forward and she grinned, almost as an involuntary impulse. She dropped her Coach® purse on the entranceway mahogany bureau.
“This is it. My casa,” Nadia said. Sharing her home with Zen filled her with both anxiety and pleasure. She wanted to know what he thought, but she also fretted about what he would think about her Japanese décor.
She turned on one of the Japanese paper lanterns.
“Wow,” Zen said. He appeared to take in everything. “This—this is fantastic. I love the doors.”MoreLess
The wind began to play with her stray locks of hair. She tucked them behind her ears and blew out the nervousness. It rained around them, but the tiny square porch only gave so much protection.
Finally! The door opened and she turned the knob. The rush of vanilla and j...uniper rushed forward and she grinned, almost as an involuntary impulse. She dropped her Coach® purse on the entranceway mahogany bureau.
“This is it. My casa,” Nadia said. Sharing her home with Zen filled her with both anxiety and pleasure. She wanted to know what he thought, but she also fretted about what he would think about her Japanese décor.
She turned on one of the Japanese paper lanterns.
“Wow,” Zen said. He appeared to take in everything. “This—this is fantastic. I love the doors.”MoreLess
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