Fresh off the set, Sasha's makeup was still camera-ready, and her lips were painted a vibrant shade of Marilyn red.
The color had smeared all around the straw of her bubble tea, which Dr. Chase, a man typically obsessive about cleanliness, seemed to ignore as he accidentally kissed the crimson mark on the straw. Then he took several more sips, nodding with satisfaction. "Not bad, not bad at all. Behave, and I'll treat you to another one next time."
After his comment, he ruffled Sasha's hair as if she were a mischievous kitten, causing her to bite her lip in silent frustration.
"Chase, you drank my bubble tea!" she accused.
With a quirk on his brow, he shot back, "I bought it for you. Can't I have a sip? You really are an ungrateful little thing."
Sasha, exasperated by his feigned ignorance, grabbed a napkin and furiously wiped the straw. "Did you even brush your teeth before guzzling down my drink? Your breath must be foul. How am I supposed to enjoy it now?"
Hearing her complaint, Chase, who had just straightened up, leaned in close again, his eyes—those damn seductive windows to his soul—fixating on her. "Brushed 'em right before I left. Want to check?"
As he spoke, his lips inched closer to Sasha's.
She panicked and blocked his mouth with her hand. "Chase, if you dare kiss me, I swear I'll end you right here!"
His warm lips brushed against the palm of her hand; a low chuckle reached her ears.
"I'm just trying to make a point. Who said anything about a kiss? Though, if you're interested, bump up my salary, and I might consider it."
"Get lost!"
With a forceful slap to the back of his hand, she felt a sting of sweet retaliation.
Chase drew a sharp breath, a mischievous smile on his face. "With that fiery temper, a kiss would probably take years off my life. No thanks."
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