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The first and last time Jenny drank bourbon ended in a night on her cold bathroom tile. But she liked the way that it tasted when she kissed Gibbs. He laughed as she twisted her face into disgusted expressions when she drank. But each taste became easier until it finally went down effortlessly.
That night their kisses could have tasted more like bourbon than before, but she didn’t notice. She could only think about the fact that she’d never felt more comfortable around him. She still woke up on the bathroom tile, but it was an acquired taste, after all.