Strike a Match

by Fiona Riley

Abby hugged her back and held up an oversized water bottle. “I come fully prepared.”

  “That’s good. You’re going to want to stay hydrated—it’s going to get hot in there.”

  “That’s what you keep threatening me.” Abby reached out and took her hand first this time, and Sasha warmed to the contact.

  “I’m excited to try this with you. I think you’ll like it. Have you ever done this before?” Sasha guided her through the studio toward the kilns at the back. She stopped to watch Abby take in the surroundings: shelves of colorful glass art lined the small gift-shop designated section of the studio. There were vases, mugs, drinking glasses, figurines, fruit bowls, ornaments, pumpkins, and dishes of all shapes and sizes that were ready for purchase. This studio relied on the sale of their goods to help fund classes for local area kids in the evenings. Sasha loved how they gave back to the community.

  “Glassblowing? No, never.” She released Sasha’s hand to glide her finger along the smooth curve of a waved fruit bowl. “These are gorgeous. The colors are fantastic. This is all handmade?”

  Sasha nodded. Her reaction had been the same the first time she had ventured into this studio five years ago. A lot had changed in that time, she mused.

  “Are we the only ones here?” Abby sounded shocked.

  “We are.” Sasha led her to the station she had set up at the most rear furnace.

  “Is that safe? I mean, shouldn’t there be a professional here?” Although she verbalized concern, Sasha noted that Abby was following her freely. She wondered if Abby was a follow-the-rules kind of good girl. She hadn’t gotten that impression up to this point, but maybe she’d missed something.

  “I’m a firefighter. I work with fire all day long. Who is better suited to captain this date than me?” Sasha nudged her and smiled broadly. “Truth is, I come here a lot. And I’m good friends with the glass artists and owners. They let me have the shop to myself tonight to teach you some glassblowing techniques. Normally there are night classes, but the owner is out of town so it’s their slow period. Long story short—I called in a favor. But I promise it will be safe and fun.”

  “And hot. Don’t forget the hot part.” Abby fanned herself as they stepped closer to the furnace. “That is no joke. You weren’t kidding when you said dress for high heat.”

  Sasha laughed and offered a hair tie to Abby. “You may want this for later.”

  “How hot is that thing?” Abby pulled her long blond hair up into a messy ponytail and Sasha admired the soft, pale skin of Abby’s neck.

  “To get the molten glass consistency it can go up to twenty-four hundred degrees Fahrenheit, but this is around twenty-one hundred since there’s only two of us and we have small stuff to do.”

  “Did you say twenty-one hundred?”

  That was most people’s response.

  “Indeed, I did. I told you, it’s hot stuff.” Sasha took a sip of the water bottle she had sitting on the table by her station. “What do you think—are you ready?”

  Abby looked at her with big eyes. “Ready as I’m ever going to be, I guess.”

  “Okay. First things first. We have to go over a few ground rules. Just some basic stuff to keep us both safe and the building intact. Sound good?”

  Abby’s brow furrowed in focus. “Do I have to take notes?”

  “Only mental ones.”

  Abby pointed to her temple and nodded. “Mentally note taking as we speak.”

  Sasha chuckled. “This is the furnace that we get the molten glass from. We pick it up with a blowpipe, and this”—she pointed to a taller furnace with a circular opening in the front—“this is the glory hole we put it in to—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there because there is no way that is actually called a glory hole and absolutely no way you expect me to stick my blowpipe in that glory hole to make glass art.” Abby crossed her arms in skepticism causing her breasts to swell slightly above the confines of her tight tank top.

  “I promise you it is, and yes, I want you to stick your blowpipe in the glory hole a few times tonight.” The innuendos surrounding this conversation were not lost on Sasha, nor on Abby, if the look on her face was indicative of anything.

  “I don’t believe you.” Abby had a small smile on her face, but she continued to keep her arms crossed. The visual combination was titillating.

  “Check Google. Look up glassblowing. I’m going to put on some music because once the vents go on and it’s pretty noisy in here, the music helps to drown out the industrial fan sound.” Sasha stepped toward the back of the studio and used her smartphone to access her sound cloud and pipe music in through the studio speakers.

  Abby shook her head as she put her phone back in her purse when Sasha returned to the workstation. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Told you.” Sasha stepped closer to Abby and leaned in as the vent fans surged louder. “Tell me, Abby. Are you ready for me to put my blowpipe in your glory hole?”

  Abby’s shudder in response told her everything she needed to know and more.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sasha had gravely undersold how hot this date was going to be. Like melt on the sun hot. They were literally standing in front of a furnace twirling a scalding-hot metal pole in something called a glory hole. What was she thinking?

  Sasha took the pole from her hands and spun it quickly along the bench set up to their right. She motioned for Abby to head to the end of the pole and encouraged her to blow as hard as she could into the tiny opening. This was really happening.

  “C’mon, Abby. Show me what you can do.” Sasha appeared to be enjoying every second of this. “Squat down, put your lips on the end of the pole, and blow like you’re trying to inflate a balloon.”

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Abby wasn’t really complaining. She swept a loose hair behind her ear and wiped her forehead. Her makeup had probably melted off her face by now, yet she wasn’t that concerned. This was far and beyond the most interesting and unique date she had ever been on. She was excited to learn something new. Doing it with Sasha was an added bonus.

  Abby blew into the pole and Sasha helped her continue to spin it along the support bars that came off the bench. Just when she thought she was going to pass out from breathlessness, Sasha finally told her to stop and motioned for Abby to follow her over to the flat metal table to the left. Abby took the opportunity to trail behind Sasha and take her in. Sasha was wearing a fitted black tank top that complemented the dark hair she kept off her neck in a ponytail. But what Abby was most appreciative of was the cut of the tank top; Sasha’s strong, muscular shoulders flexed and rolled as she spun the bar while she walked. Abby had been surprised at how heavy the bar was, but Sasha maneuvered it like it was weightless. Abby’s stomach tightened as she let herself imagine all the ways Sasha could show Abby just how strong she really was.

  “Jesus. That is harder than it looks.” Abby huffed and puffed next to Sasha for more than one reason, as Sasha continued to spin the pole slowly, keeping the hot orange glowing ball of glass on the end of the pole in a round shape.

  “It is.” Sasha nodded toward the table. There were eight flat metal blow-like things with different shades of colored powder in each. “Pick your first color. We’re going to use three altogether, so consider that when you choose.”

  Abby was drawn to the purples and blues on the table. She pointed to them and added a lime green to break them up. Sasha refused to tell her what they were making, so she was blindly choosing her colors—she hoped they would work. “How about those three?”

  “Ooh, that’s gonna look great.” Sasha pressed the hot orange glass along the metal table and formed a cylinder. She reached for Abby’s hand and gave her the rod. “Okay, let’s put some color on this.”

  Sasha helped her coat each side of the cylinder with the purple powder before guiding her to the glory hole then back to the furnace to coat the cylinder with fresh glass. They repeated this three times until all of the colors Abby
picked were folded into the glowing cylinder.

  “I know it looks all orange but I promise you the colors are there.” Sasha put a hand on Abby’s low back. She had been particularly affectionate today. Abby wondered if it was to communicate with her over the loudness of the vent. Sasha had been right—the music helped to cancel out some of the droning noise.

  Sasha leaned close, her hand settling on Abby’s hip while Abby spun the pole to keep the shape at the end. Sasha nudged Abby’s foot with her own, guiding her legs apart just a bit as she leaned into Abby’s ear. “Let’s open this up a bit, shall we?”

  Abby wasn’t sure what Sasha’s intention was, but she was definitely open for her. Open and ready. She turned toward Sasha, their faces close. “What are we opening, Sash?”

  Sasha’s eyes were dark, her pupils full, and her lips parted slightly. “Let’s start with the glass and then we’ll see what else we can loosen up along the way.” She made no attempt to put any space between them. Instead, she placed her hands above and below Abby’s on the pole and helped her spin a little faster. She looked over her shoulder, and her collarbone shifted as she raised the pole. Abby didn’t miss the slight glistening of sweat along Sasha’s neck. She resisted the urge to lean in and lick along it. They were so close. It wouldn’t take much effort.

  Sasha maneuvered Abby and the pole back toward the workbench, staying very close, her body brushing against Abby’s, distracting her in all the best ways. She let Sasha lead, eager to have the opportunity to watch Sasha’s physical prowess.

  What happened next was sort of a blur. There was more spinning and blowing, the two of them working together while Sasha used wet newspapers and tongs of some sort to shape and pull the cylinder into a longer tube. Sasha had Abby stand above it and blow downward as she spun the pole even faster causing the glass to thin and fan out. She used the wet wooden tools on the bench to press and pull on the hot orange glass until it started to take the shape of a—

  “Bowl. You’re making a bowl?” Abby had helped the entire time and yet she still didn’t believe this had come out of that little glowing ball.

  “You are making a bowl. I’m just helping.” Sasha dipped the tongs in cold water and motioned for Abby to don the gloves on the workbench. “Put those on and form a cup with your hands. I’m going to disconnect the glass from the rod and we’re going to finish the shaping process.”

  Abby slipped on the gloves and watched as Sasha separated the glass from the rod with a series of taps on the metal and a pinching motion with some giant tweezers. The bowl dropped from the rod into Abby’s hands so quickly that she almost dropped it. Sasha’s hand steadied the underside of her glove to keep the glass from hitting the ground.

  “That was close.” Abby exhaled and blew a loose hair off her forehead.

  “I got you, babe.” Sasha winked. “Lean back a little—this is going to be very, very warm.” She pulled out a small blowtorch and heated the bottom of the bowl, smoothing the surface with a wet wooden spoon.

  She was right. The heat from the torch felt smothering when combined with the blazing furnace and the sight of Sasha’s sexy arm muscles pulsating. Abby thought she might combust.

  Sasha grabbed another set of gloves and took the bowl from Abby’s hands, placing it into a large closet-looking thing and sealing it tight. She was back at Abby’s side in a flash, her hands on Abby’s hips, a look of concern on her face. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” That was a lie. She wasn’t fine. Quite the contrary, she felt a little light-headed. She swayed on the spot and Sasha’s hands were all over her.

  “Let’s get you cooled off.” Sasha half walked, half carried her over to a cushioned bench on the other side of the room, as far away from the furnaces as possible. Abby had a glass of cold water in her hand before she even realized what was happening. When had she gotten so thirsty? “Drink that, and lean back a little.”

  She greedily gulped the water, finishing it quickly. Sasha replaced the empty glass with a new ice-cold one as she settled next to Abby. She brushed hair off Abby’s forehead, her fingers pausing at Abby’s neck before she stroked the skin.

  Abby closed her eyes, savoring the coolness of the water on her tongue and the gentle pressure of Sasha’s touch on her skin.

  “Your pulse is a little fast.” Sasha’s fingers continued their dance along her neck. Abby blinked her eyes open to find Sasha watching her closely.

  “I feel fine.” She did. Well, now she did. “I think I just got a little overheated.”

  Sasha didn’t say anything at first. She just continued watching her, pressing her wrist to Abby’s forehead briefly before she rubbed her thumb along Abby’s cheek. “And now? Do you still feel hot?”

  That was a complicated question: Sasha’s attention and clear concern were making her hot, but the turned-on kinda hot not walking-on-the-sun kinda hot like a few minutes ago. Sasha’s lips were parted slightly. She looked thirsty. “I’m fine. Really.” She offered the remainder of the cold water to Sasha. “You should have some, too.”

  Sasha hesitated before she accepted it, finishing the glass with ease. She had a little droplet of water under her bottom lip. Abby reached for it to wipe it away when she had a better idea.

  “You’ve got a little water under your lip.” Abby leaned forward, bringing her face closer to Sasha’s.

  “Yeah?” Sasha’s eyes were on Abby’s lips when she spoke. “Do you find it distracting?”

  Abby smiled at the reference to their exchange from the other day. “I do, actually.”

  Sasha was so close to her now, her head slightly angled to the side, her lips close enough to…“Maybe you should do something about that, then.”

  That was all the invitation Abby needed to close the distance between them. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d wanted to kiss someone as badly as this. Sasha met her passion immediately, her tongue tracing patterns along Abby’s lips, teasing and licking until Abby couldn’t stop the moan from tumbling out of her mouth. Before she knew it, Sasha was taking over. The kiss was escaping her—her head was spinning. She reached out and gripped Sasha’s shoulders to steady herself.

  Sasha pulled back, and that look of concern from earlier was back. “Are you okay? Is this too much?”

  “Yes.” Abby was trying to catch her breath. Since when did kissing make her so breathless? Oh, about since Samantha’s wedding.

  “Yes, this is too much? Or…?” Sasha was holding her close, but not close enough for Abby’s liking.

  “Yes, I’m okay. No, this is not too much.” She pulled Sasha back to her and kissed her hard. Sasha’s hand was in her hair, her thumb teasing at Abby’s jaw, imploring her to open her mouth wider. She complied and was rewarded with Sasha’s tongue on her own, her other hand gripping Abby’s ribs, and she wanted to be rid of her shirt now. She wanted to feel Sasha’s hand on the naked skin of her torso. She pulled up her shirt while Sasha continued to massage her tongue. It was a struggle to maintain enough focus to do both, but luckily Sasha caught on, and before she knew it, she was out of her shirt and Sasha was sucking on her neck. She felt herself getting wetter by the second. Sasha was so sexy it was overwhelming. “More. Sasha, I need more.”

  Sasha leaned into her, guiding her back onto the cushions of the bench, and Abby felt her insides tighten. She had thought about this often, the moment when Sasha would top her, how badly she had wanted to feel Sasha over her, around her, in her. She was climbing too quickly. She needed to slow down but her body moved against Sasha’s at an almost frantic pace.

  Sasha’s hand moved to her thigh. She stroked the skin above her knee and dipped inward before sliding back out. She was teasing her. “As much fun as I’ve had on this date, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about taking this skirt off you the minute you walked in.” Her hand moved up higher on Abby’s thigh, disappearing under the hem of the skirt to tickle the soft, supple skin there.

  Abby moaned again, grabbing at Sasha’s tank
top and pulling her on top of her, trapping Sasha’s hand between her thighs. “Tell me more about that, Sash. Did you like my outfit tonight?”

  Sasha purred in response, her lips by Abby’s ear as her fingers continued to tease and dance along Abby’s thigh, moving higher and higher, her skirt flipped up against the sweat-slick skin of her waist. “Why do you think I had you squat and bend over so much tonight? I’m not about to let legs like those and an ass like that”—Sasha squeezed Abby’s ass and pulled her tight against her—“go to waste.”

  “Fuck.” Abby sucked her bottom lip into her mouth when Sasha discarded her tank top and lowered her body on top of her, Sasha’s strong shoulder flexing as she held her chest up enough to reconnect their lips, silencing Abby’s panting with her mouth. Sasha’s skin was scorching against her own, their sweat mixing in the most deliciously sticky way.

  Abby spread her legs, accommodating Sasha’s hips to rest between her own. Sasha massaged up her side, palming at the lace of her bra while her mouth continued to do terrible things to Abby’s jaw and pulse point. And suddenly Abby was there again, right at that line where if she didn’t slow, she would come hard and fast, and this was the hardest decision she had ever made in her life. To fuck or not to fuck?

  Sasha’s polite teasing came to an end when her fingers brushed across the flimsy front of Abby’s thong. Abby surged upward, crying out as her clit twitched under Sasha’s exploratory touch. “Sasha.”

  “More?” Sasha’s breath was short and fast across her lips. “Are you ready for more, Abby?” Her fingers pressed inward and Abby couldn’t remember another time when she had gotten so wet, so fast.

  “Yes, Sasha, please.” She wasn’t above begging. Her body was buzzing with all kinds of sensations and she needed relief, now. “Fuck me.”

  “You are so fucking hot.” Sasha slipped under her panties and stroked her wetness and Abby thought she saw Jesus.

  “Oh, oh, my…yes. Sasha. Yes.” Sasha’s fingers entered her and Abby clenched around them as they slid in and out of her with a practiced ease that Abby was so very, very grateful for. “Don’t stop. Harder.”