Rock And Scotch Novels & Stories

Sienna took one and immediately started rubbing her hair. "Thanks," she whispered. "Don't mention it," Declan said. He looked at the waiter. "The Macallan. Two glasses. Neat." "I don't usually drink scotch," Sienna said, wrapping the towel around her shoulders. "Today feels like a scotch kind of day," Declan replied. He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. He watched her with a neutral expression, his eyes scanning her face. "So. Who was the lucky guy?"

This scotch was a special fine blend, a collection tickling his sensitive taste buds seeking the most hidden vapors, those fine, almost hidden senses that overshadowed his initial desires. Instantly incited, he had to make the effort to get all the sensation from her, both on the outside where the taste treasure was nestled within the crinkly folds of her entrance, and then forcing his tongue inside, beyond the barrier muscle which opened for him. There he found actual droplets of pure pleasure. Rose moan loudly with pleasure as his tongue found the prize, then moved slowly around to reap what low-hanging fruits was there. Then like a gift, Rose relaxed her muscle even further so his effort

I slapped his hand away forcefully and splashed the mango juice onto his expensive tux. Ivy screamed as she leaped forward and tried to stop me. I did not dodge her. Instead, I gave her a huge slap. “Liam, do you really think I can’t live without you? Now you’re here, disgusting me with mango juice!” I stared at Liam with disgust and hate. Liam looked at his wet tux, and his face fell. He turned around to look at Ivy. “Didn’t I ask you to make orange juice?” Ivy’s cheek was red and swollen. She was crying.

All likely Baccarat. Scotch is his preferred evening cocktail when working late, and I surmise that’s what he sips as he contemplates how he’s going to manage this insane scenario we’ve found ourselves in. This is much too wild for my brain to fully process. I can’t take his money. And I sure as hell can’t have sex with him. But goddamn it… I need the money. And I really, really, reallllly want to have sex with him.

Scarlet playfully rolled her eyes, her laughter echoing in the air. “I’ve only had one glass of champagne, Ryan,” she protested. “So, I’m not drunk. I know exactly what I’m saying.” As the music grew louder, Ryan tilted his head slightly, catching the rhythm with a grin on his face. He temporarily let go of Scarlet’s hand, spinning her around playfully before smoothly pulling her back into his arms. His strong arms wrapped around her waist again, causing Scarlet to let out a startled gasp as they briefly rested on her butt.

Scott shook his head. “I’m suddenly in the mood for a drink.” Scott chucked. “It’s not even three yet.” “Call it a birthday drink and I can drink it whenever I want.” I walked over to the small globe I had in the room’s corner. Pulling it up, the globe opened to reveal six smaller glasses and two bottles of bourbon. I took out one of the bottles and held out the bottle for Scott. “I mean, I can’t very well let my Alpha drink alone on his birthday now, can I?” He smirked and came over, grabbing two of the glasses.

He was clearly lonely, and the company seemed to bolster his spirits. Speaking of spirits… As I was setting the table, Fabian’s eyes lit up. “Oh! I almost forgot. I have something that would go perfectly with our meal.” He led us down to his cellar, where rows of dusty bottles lined the shelves in the walls. With a flourish, he pulled out an aged bottle of scotch. “Moonshine’s finest,” he said proudly as he uncorked the bottle. “We’re known for our barley, you know. Makes some of the best scotch in the world. Here. Try some.” He poured it into three small glasses on top of a nearby barrel.

Bruce said. “Sure. Would you like us to order for you?” Margo asked. “Yeah. I want a steak medium rare with baked potato and whatever vegetable they got,” Bruce answered. “Same for me, but I want my steak medium, please,” Alec said. “Drinks?” Bobbi asked. “Rum and Coke,” Alec said. “I want a Bud,” Bruce said. “They only serve imported beers here,” Bobbi stated. “Oh, gin on the rocks, then,” Bruce said.

Collections of wine, all categories from foreign brandy and whisky to champagnes and red wines. Wayne grabbed a bottle of Johnnie Walker's Black Label and poured himself a hearty glass. He put in a few cubes of ice from the fridge and took a long swig at it. The whisky rushed down his throat, dousing every ounce of desire left. Nothing like a good glass of alcohol to relax you and summon sleep. He heard Rojan descend the steps and come to join him at the bar, he climbed atop one of the bar stools. Wayne gingerly poured another glass for him.