by H. T. Night
“Lean over the sink,” she said. “Why is your nose bleeding? Did you get into a fight?”
I pinched my nose and leaned over the sink. I looked at myself in the mirror. Damn! Even their mirror was bigger! The blood flow seemed to be slowing.
“You have a name, bleeder?” the woman asked, wiping my nose for me. She leaned in and wow, she smelled incredible. She smelled like vanilla and I liked vanilla a lot.
“My name is Tommy.”
“Tommy? Is it short for Thomas?”
“No, and that wouldn’t be short. The two names are almost just as long.” I counted the letters in my head.
“Okay, smartass. You never answered me. Is there a reason why you’re bleeding all over me?”
I owed her an explanation; I mean, after all, she had brought me into the women’s bathroom. “I’m a professional mixed martial arts fighter and sometimes my nose just unexpectedly bleeds. It has to do with the fact I’m constantly losing weight.”
“A professional fighter?” her eyes lit up. “Nice. That is about the most interesting thing I’ve heard all day.”
“Is it more interesting than a guy bleeding in front of you, seconds after meeting him?”
“No, that definitely is more interesting. You’re two for two in the intrigue department.”
“What about you, Florence Nightingale? Do you have a name?”
“Yes, I do.” She continued to wipe my face.
“Well...”
“My name is Sasha.”
“Sasha?” I asked.
“Yeah, I know it sounds like a stripper name, but it was the name I was born with. I’m Argentinean and my parents were trying to be more American.”
“Bambi or Bubbles wasn’t on your parents’ radar?”
She laughed. “I guess there are worse stripper names. I should be thankful.”
“I don’t think it sounds like a stripper, more like a villain in Batman.”
“There you go. I could be Catwoman’s twin sister.”
I finally took over and wiped my nose. “Not too many American girls would do the whole hot-nurse routine. So, I do have to give it up to Argentina.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m all American, I was born here. My parents are from Argentina.”
“Well, be sure to thank them for me. They raised an outstanding young lady.”
“Wow, you lay it on thick, don’t you?”
“In any other case, that would be an accurate statement, but in this case, I couldn’t be any more serious.”
“You’re sweet.” And then she finally did it. She gave me the ‘I think you’re hot too’ look.
“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked. It was the least I could do.
“Sure,” she said. “And you’re in luck. The bleeding has stopped.”
“That’s good. It would give a whole new meaning to a Bloody Mary.”
“Now, that’s just gross.”
“Hey, you’re the one who became intimate with my nose, minutes after meeting me.”
Sasha shook her head, laughed and swung open the door. I looked at my nose in the mirror and it was bright red. Nice, I look like Rudolph.
Sasha stepped outside the bathroom and took a seat at one of the many empty tables in the bar. I followed her and yelled out, “Megan, two more shots of Patron.” I decided to look at Sasha to see if tequila was okay.
“Patron sounds good,” Sasha said, “and a beer chaser would be great. I only like imported beer; I’m girlie like that.”
“Okay, green bottle it is.” I shouted one more time to Megan, “Make those two shots and two green bottles.”
“Wow! Fancy, Tommy. She must have cleaned you up real good!” Megan winked at me.
I ignored the comment.
Megan made the drinks and brought them over. Sasha and I talked and laughed for the next couple of hours until Megan yelled out ‘last call.’
Sasha told me she was a waitress at a coffee shop in Brea. She had gone to nursing school, but had to quit, due to lack of funds. We joked and laughed and made fun of just about everything we could think of. She was my kind of chick; she could dish it out and seemed to be up for anything.
The bar closed down and I walked Sasha out to her car. I hadn’t drunk any alcohol since the first shot when we first sat down. I knew I had plenty of time for the alcohol to make its way through me. I could pass a breathalyzer test any day of the week. Sasha, on the other hand, was a buck fifteen at the most, and she followed her shot and beer with about three more beers and two more shots.
“You okay to drive?” I asked
“Oh, is this your big ‘don’t drink and drive’ move, where you convince little old me to sleep over and you’ll give me the bed and you’ll sleep on the couch?”
“Who said I would be the one sleeping on the couch?”
“Oh, confident, are we?”
“Not confident. I just have my dates take the couch. I find it’s the right thing to do once I’m completely done with the seduction aspect of the evening.”
“Seduction? A girl should be so lucky!”
“Honestly, I thought I’d take you to Denny’s for some coffee. I don’t make it a habit to take girls to my place right after I first meet them.”
“Oh, you live with your parents!” Sasha began laughing hysterically. “I knew your charm came with a price.”
“No. I live alone in a two-bedroom apartment by myself. And, I don’t remember my parents. I was raised by my grandparents. My grandma mostly.”
“Aww.” Sasha was extremely buzzed. She began touching my face in a way that wasn’t the least bit sexy. “That explains your Southern charm.”
“Southern charm? Maybe Southern California charm. There is nothing Southern about me.”
“Trust me; I’ve spent a lot of time in the South. You would fit right in. They’re all corn-fed like you.” Sasha then began feeling my muscles. “Damn, you’re pretty muscular. How many hours a day do you work out?” She felt my entire upper body. I eventually stopped her hands before she reached my legs and put them by her side.
“Look, let’s go to Denny’s. You’re drunker than I thought. We’ll hang out there until you can think clearly.”
Sasha had taken out her keys when we first left the bar, but now she was putting them back in her purse. “I guess I could use some coffee. Coffee would sober me up.”
“That’s my Mustang over there.” I pointed across the parking lot at my bad boy.
“Nice, like I said, very Southern. All it’s missing is a Dale Earnhardt for President sticker on the bumper.”
I walked her over to my vehicle. I opened the door and helped her in the passenger side. I shut the door and walked behind the car and watched as Sasha looked at my door and noticed it was locked, she leaned her drunk body over and unlocked my door. One more for Argentina! I loved it when a girl did that. It shows she’s thinking outside herself. Sasha was drunk and she still pulled it off. Bravo!
Chapter Two
We went to the Denny’s off of Harbor Boulevard in Fullerton.
During the entire ride, Sasha touched my arms, well, maybe more like petted them, like they were kittens. The angel on my shoulder was telling me to go to Denny’s and the damn devil was saying, ‘Screw Denny’s, it’s time for some loving.’ The angel eventually won the battle.
We arrived at Denny’s and ordered enough food to feed six people. I was happy to see that Sasha was throwing down her coffee like her shots and I knew she’d be sober in no time.
We continued to talk for a good hour until our conversation led me to ask, “So, Shiners isn’t exactly a hopping, happening place. What brought you to that hole-in-the-wall bar on a holiday?”
“I was bored and hoping to play some darts. That place must be the only bar in the United States that doesn’t have a dart board.”
“Oh, that’s why you left so fast. I actually took it personally.”
“You never even turned around. You didn’t even know I was in the bar!
”
“I knew you were in the bar.” I smirked and took a sip of my soda.
“You’re just the babe-hound, aren’t you?”
“Not really,” I smirked. “The bartender knows what I like.”
“You were given the heads up? I see how it is. You let that poor bartender do all your dirty work.”
“She did say you were her type.”
“Well, it’s nice to be adored,” Sasha said, smiling.
“You don’t strike me as a woman who is hurting for adoration.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised. So, when you came outside to make a text, that was all for show?”
“I did mention earlier on I had a Theater Arts degree,” I winked.
“Nice performance.”
“It’s only fun if there’s an audience.”
“Even if it’s an audience of one?”
“If that audience is you, I’d perform all night,” I said, winking at her.
“All night? That’s impressive coming from a bleeder.”
“Did I mention that my erections are like a locomotive charging through the Midwest, carrying steel as cargo?”
“You might have glossed over that little nugget of info.”
“Well, now you know.”
“I’ll be sure to put that in my penis journal.”
“Are there are a lot of entries?” I asked, smiling.
“These days, not enough.”
“You can also add in your little journal that I have a beautiful penis.”
“It will be duly noted. Can we get off your penis?”
“I wasn’t aware that you had gotten on,” I joked.
“Neither had I!” Sasha slammed the table at her burn. “Ouch! Game, set, match.”
I laughed out loud. “Now that was fun.”
“You have no idea how much fun I can be.”
“All right, tell me. What do you do for fun?”
Sasha liked this question. She sat up and everything. “I’m an actress.”
“Really?”
“Well, I’m trying to be.”
“What kind?” I asked.
“One who talks.”
“Very nice,” I said sarcastically. “What I meant was what kind of actress: TV, movie, stage?”
“Stage and some television.”
“Some television, really?” I was sincerely impressed.
“Yep, so you’re not the only actor here.”
“Oh, I’m not an actor. I received a general Theater Arts degree. It was better than doing math.”
“Well, I’m trying to be an actress.”
“You do look like Audrey Hepburn if she grew her hair long.”
“I’ve been told that before. And I think it’s going to be hard for Audrey Hepburn to grow any kind of hair anymore.”
“Don’t be a downer. I like remembering my Hollywood divas alive.” I took another drink of my soda and decided to ask, “What else do you like to do?”
“I like surfing!”
“Surfing?” Are you kidding?”
“No.”
“Where do you surf?” I asked.
“Everywhere. Malibu, Newport Beach, you name it.”
“Okay, let me get this straight. You’re a beautiful Argentinean woman, who wants to be an actress and loves to surf?”
“That would be me.”
“Damn, it’s like every man’s dream.”
“All those things are superficial, though.”
“I know. That’s why it’s every guy’s dream on paper. The reality is something quite different.”
“The reality of what?”
“The reality of you,” I explained plainly.
“You think you know me after a couple of drinks, and a Moons Over My Hammy? You think you have me all figured out at a Denny’s at 3 a.m.?”
“I think I do.”
“You’re not being serious, are you?” Sasha actually didn’t like the fact I would have the gall to say something like that to her.
I looked at Sasha and grinned. “Okay, let me give it my best shot and if I’m completely wrong, I’ll pay for the meal.”
“Oh, you’re paying for the meal, nevertheless, but please enlighten me.”
I took the last sip of my drink and sat up straighter for my opening statement. “You’re very pretty. So, you probably don’t get asked out much. When you do, it’s either by a rich guy who’s old enough to be your father or a guy who thinks he is the most beautiful person in every room, not you. Both turn you off, so that’s why you settle for the bad boy. I fit the bad-boy image, so that’s why you have spent the last 3 hours and 17 minutes with me. You like the bad boy because you like to think you can tame him. But, you also secretly love the fact that he’s unpredictable and might not call you for a couple of days at any given time. But, that gets old and eventually, you move on and that is why you have had hundreds of one-month relationships over the years. With bad boys.”
Sasha smiled and I knew I had hit some truth about her, so I continued, “You’re an actress because you like to escape. You could never be a prostitute or a nun in real life, but you like the idea of becoming whatever you won’t, with any given script. You like the idea of escaping in little intervals but you’re far too interested in your own life to do it for any long period of time.”
Sasha nearly came out of her skin on that one. I continued, “You surf because it’s the one thing you know for damn sure you can’t control, so you don’t even try. You ride each wave and get turned on by its power and unpredictability. The more you fall off a board and climb back on, the more it gives you a sense of accomplishment and survival. Both are things that you desire daily. You thrive on these two things: power and unpredictability. How am I doing?”
“Go on,” she said.
Now Sasha was looking at me like she had seen a ghost, so I knew I was reading her better than any psychic friends network employee ever could. “You’re alone at the moment, but you have ten guys you can call that would leave a girlfriend, a wife, or any other person they were involved with to have one more night with you. That’s because not only are you gorgeous, you are very passionate in the bedroom, and like to take on all kinds of roles. You’re afraid to truly let go, out of your fear of real intimacy, emotional intimacy, I mean. But secretly, you’re waiting for that one guy who completely ‘gets’ you and that’s the moment you have longed for. That’s the moment that you know in your heart that when you finally find him, you’re ready to completely let go.”
Sasha continued to stare at me and slowly shook her head in disbelief, so I decided to finish her off. “At this very moment, you are intrigued by my insight and candor, but yet you’re still afraid that this is ‘my game’ and I’m trying to back-door you to get you into bed. Part of you doesn’t give a shit, but the real true part of you, the one that cries at weddings and Kleenex commercials, is praying that I’m being sincere. All I can tell you is that I am… being sincere, that is. And I think you’re about the sexiest woman I have ever seen. I say this not as a line, just as a statement of fact. I couldn’t care less if you believe me or not, because I know what I’ve said has ministered to your soul. So, Sasha, girl I met for the first time tonight, how did I do?”
Sasha stood up from her chair. “Check, please!”
Chapter Three
Sasha grabbed my hand and dragged me outside the double doors of Denny’s.
She marched me out to the back parking lot that was parallel to Harbor Boulevard. Sasha, still leading me by my hand, threw me up against my black Mustang and shoved her tongue down my throat. She pushed me up against the driver’s-side door of my Mustang and grabbed my neck so I would be at eye level with her. I spread my legs wide which I usually have to do to kiss a woman without having to lower my neck. In this case, my head was eye level to hers, but nonetheless, she hung on my neck like it was a monkey bar. She continued to jam her face into mine and kissed me with an intensity I hadn’t ever quite experienced. She kissed me passionately
with a lot of tongue and even a moan or two. I had to admit it was hotter than shit and my body definitely let her know how much this was turning, me on. I wasn’t one to wear underwear. So, I was at full attention in my 501’s. Sasha pressed harder against me kissing my lips, my neck, and my face.
“Take me home,” she said.
“What about your car?”
“I’ll take care of it in the morning. I don’t really want to peel myself off of you right now.”
I opened my door and Sasha ran around my car and jumped in. I drove to my apartment in record time. The angel on my shoulder had gone to bed early and the devil was out in force. The entire way to my house, Sasha licked my fingers and kissed my right arm. Can you say, ‘slam dunk?’
We arrived at my apartment off of Gypsum Canyon. I parked in my assigned spot, and the two of us nearly sprinted to my door. I took out my keys and opened my door. I didn’t have much furniture in my two-bedroom apartment, but at this point, all I needed was a sofa and TV in the living room and a California King in the bedroom.
We made our way through my bare hallway and nearly busted through my bedroom door. I threw it open and we both fell on my bed simultaneously.
She continued to kiss me, and I was taken aback by her aggressiveness. Usually, I let a woman just have her way if she came at me like this, but Sasha was different. I kind of liked her. I never had a woman match wits with me like she had tonight. I couldn’t deny the fact I was craving her body more than anything else in my entire life
I kissed her back with the same intensity and hers was off the charts. But I liked to be in control, so I pinned her down and rolled on top of her. I kissed her neck, then her aggression let up a tad and I decided to stop. That’s right! I stopped and just stared at her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m taking you in.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you.”
“I like you, too. Don’t stop.”
“I see that we both know where this is going.”
