Whiskey Tender Book Review の小説・ストーリー

Liam’s POV The whiskey tasted like ash. It truly should not have. The single malt was thirty years old. My dad only drank these kinds of drinks on special occasions, like when he signed treaties or won a pack. It should have tasted like smoke, wood, and accomplishment. Instead, it tasted like mud. I glanced at the clear glass and the golden liquid that was spinning inside it. My hand was shaking. It was just a shake. I could not stop the mild vibration in my fingers no matter how tightly I gripped my fist.

Then he did something crazy, erotic, and utterly kinky. He reached over to the side table, grabbed his half-melted whiskey glass, and slowly poured the cold amber liquid down the length of my spine. The icy whiskey ran in rivulets over my heated skin, dripping between my spread cheeks and over my sensitive holes. The shocking temperature contrast made me gasp and shiver violently.

But, well, we shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. “You are probably nervous about tomorrow.” “Probably.” She leaned back, watching me. Our gazes locked, and I felt spellbound by those beautiful eyes of hers. “Want some?” I knew I should say no to her offer. I hadn’t drunk in years, due to how being intoxicated made me do crazy things. But how could I say no to those beautiful eyes of hers? “Sure.” My doubt was confirmed as she poured me a glass of whiskey from the bottle. Our fingers met when she passed the drink to me, and I suddenly felt giddy. Like a thirteen-year-old who just had his first crush.

Adam’s P.O.V Bittersweet. The taste of alcohol has become bittersweet. It’s the only liquid I could stand at the moment. Ever since Her. I couldn’t afford to think about her or what happened. Hence the need to take my fourth glass of whiskey. It almost has no effect on me at this point, it’s lost it’s potency in my body. It doesn’t make me forget what happened to her, it just made me numb. I embraced that feeling. Staring at the pile of documents in front of me, I keep on sipping my glass of whiskey. A pile of vision less business proposals stared at me. I tossed them aside, lacking the time to glance through them.

She could feel the peaceful aura that enveloped the little house, inviting her in. In the center of the living room was a lavish fireplace, with a roaring fire that illuminated the entire room. "We'll get the dinner ready for you—" the man began but he was quickly cut off by Kevin who shook his head in refusal. "You can leave!" Kevin commanded sternly, striding towards the bar in the corner. Bottles of the finest wines lined the shelves, their labels proudly displayed. Glinting in the light were crystal glasses, adding an air of sophistication and refinement. His vast collection of bottles, all carefully chosen, reflected his passion for exquisite drinks quite boldly.

I'd never compromise my values, never sacrifice my principles on the altar of family loyalty. *** A splash of Laphroaig Cairdeas Triple Wood, aged in American oak, PX sherry, and Port casks, poured into a crystal tumbler. I raise the glass to my lips, savoring the rich, smoky flavor as it rolls over my tongue. It's a fitting nightcap. As I settle into bed, closing my eyes against the weary world outside, I let the warmth of the whiskey seep into my veins, let it carry me away to a place where there are no problems, no secrets, no battles to be won.

Livia Washington’s Point of View Cold. Dim. People’s grizzle. Three light colors simultaneously wandered around the club where I was. My taste has gone bitter. My face became grumpy as I drank the last shot of my whiskey. “You’ve drunk almost one bottle of whiskey, Livia. Stop it,” Janice; a close and trusted friend of mine said. I rolled my eyes in the air. Instead of having a one-shot glass, I got the bottle and sipped it directly. Whiskey is a hard liquor a certain person can’t drink moderately especially when her tolerance for alcohol is low. Just like me.

I waved off and stood up heading for the minibar. I look over my shoulder to see her staring at the exit as if she is contemplating running away or praying someone walks in. "You can't drink Whiskey right?" I asked pouring whiskey into two glasses. "No sir" She replied. "It's a shame I would have been happy to show you my favorite liquor, there is just something about whiskey that keeps me coming for more, this particular one has an impeccable taste" I sipped from one cup and the liquor burned as it traveled down my throat warming my insides.

It was noon by the time the two of them were settled in with their drinks and pizza. Kieran had poured her a cup of White peach and Rosemary vodka, no ice. It was a new flavor of grey goose and he knew she would want to try it. Kieran handed her the cup waiting for her reaction to the new flavor. His eyes stared at her intensely as he took a gulp of his Jack Daniel’s whiskey. It was Tennessee Fire his favorite one. A hint of spiciness but went down smooth. He held his cup at his lips as she took her first drink. The way her eyes looked awe-struck then closed in appreciation. She looked to him as beautiful as she did when they first met at a frat party.

I laughed softly as I made my way to the bar. I leaned against the bar like it had personally offended me,squinting at the cocktail menu. “Three tequila shots,please. Wait no. Two. I mean—three. I don’t want to seem weak. Or maybe. Oh I know. Do you have whiskey?” I paused, narrowing my eyes on the list again. “I feel like Whiskey girls don’t get cheated on.” The bartender gave me a look that said you good,sweetheart? but before he could say anything,a deep voice slid in beside me,smooth,rich and dangerous.”