Mister Know It All by Amélie S. Duncan
JASMINE
Positively easy
“You’re pretty hot for a suit.” God, I said that out loud.
But to be truthful, it was an understatement. But I said it out loud. Oh well. Ford had it all, a thick mane of wavy curls that framed his beautifully sculpted face a company could use to sell wood to a forest. And they’d run out. I could barely breathe or stop my pulse from racing when he looked directly at me, like now. He stood close and dropped to his knees, his hand pulling the strings on my boots.
“Pretty hot for a suit? Hang on to me.”
Sure, I could remove my shoes, but then I’d miss out on Ford’s weird obsession with orderliness and hands-on management.
I giggled and gripped his broad shoulders, kneading them with my hands. “You work out, huh? Whoa. Nice and strong.”
He shook his head. “Glad I meet your approval.”
“Honestly, suits just aren’t in my orbit or even hot men for that matter. The guys around me are more tweeds and Dockers.”
“Your ex was a tweed guy. Did he have a curve pipe too?” he mocked as he finished unlacing them. He pulled out a hidden towel to clean the bottom and put them on the shelf.
“He did but didn’t use it much,” I admitted.
“Christmas trees on your feet,” he mused.
I peered down at my Christmas tree socks. “Yeah, I like them.”
At least I did when I bought them.I hadn’t worn them since Randall came over and spent an hour with me on Christmas after I’d cooked him a roast dinner. Then with a quick fuck, he had to leave to FaceTime with his seventeen-year-old son.
Ford stood, and he lifted my chin to look at him in his deep blue eyes. “You stopped smiling. Are you all right?”
I forced a smile. “I am.”
He frowned. “I’m a good listener if you want to talk.”
I sighed. “Just ex drama. Reminders of ways I’d been a fool for love. But I’m okay.”
“Or you don’t want to talk about it. How about something light for you to drink so you won’t have a hangover?” His tone said I was getting it anyway.
I grinned at him. “I feel like it’s an offer I can’t refuse.”
“You can, but I’d be disappointed,” he said, tickling his fingers under my chin and making me laugh like a silly schoolgirl. “You can go to the aqua massage afterward.”
“I swear you’re spoiling me.”
“I haven’t even started,” he murmured and removed his shoes and soft leather coat, leaving him in his dark dress slacks and black shirt. I was definitely in danger of salivating; he was yummy. He smiled at me when he caught me ogling again, then gestured for me to follow him down the hallway. “Come with me.”
“You sure I can walk? Or do you want to carry me?” I joked, following him into his sleek, modern kitchen. Leaning against the marble island while he opened his refrigerator, I peeked inside and found everything lined up, including the already-made drink he was going to give me.
“Your maid must love to clean your place,” I said. “There’s nothing dirty.”
“No maid. I’m much too picky, and I find cleaning… therapeutic.”
“I’d hate to see what you’d do in my place. I think you’d go insane with the clutter. I mean, why are you alone? Besides your OCD, you’re gorgeous, and you know the difference between Star Trek and Star Wars—”
“Such glowing endorsements,” he said in a monotone voice, placing the glass before me. “I sound like a boring nerd. Drink.”
“Be proud of it,” I said, drinking his remedy made from kale, ginger, and something sour that was gross. I gagged, and he laughed.
“What happened with Cecile?” I asked.
His humor evaporated, and he visibly tensed. “That question came out of nowhere.”
“Oh. Never mind. I just wondered where she is and why her photo is in a drawer,” I said, staring at my glass.
“No, if I want answers, I should expect you to want the same.” His expression turned slack. “She asked for time and space.” His tone was light, but his eyes turned vacant.
I went to him and placed my hands around his waist. The man was so intense, and I was too wobbly to even consider digging deeper into what she asked for time and space meant. “You need a hug.”
He opened his arms and held me close. He had strong, solid muscles, and I could feel the rock-hard indentations beneath his shirt.
“I believe I did need a hug,” he murmured against my hair. “The shake wasn’t too bad, was it?”
The drink tasted like spicy lettuce, but being in his arms felt good. He smelled incredible.
I nodded my head against his chest. “It was all right.”
And perhaps the hug was not just for me. Ford was slow to let me go.
When he did, I quickly picked up my glass and rinsed it.
“Thank you.” He smiled and opened the door of the dishwasher.
“I’m feeling lazy,” I replied and followed him out to the living room.
There, I clasped my hands together and turned around toward him. “Hey, how about putting on some music?”
He picked up one of his remotes and turned on his built-in stereo. Rihanna filled the room.
“God, I love her.” I danced with my hands in the air and spun around in a circle, then did my butt-shaking move, my hands moving down the sides of my body. “Join me.”
He leaned against his couch and folded his arms. A wide grin appeared on his face. “So, we’ve reached the part of the evening when you tease me sexually?”
“Not a tease,” I said, kicking my right leg and flipping my hair over my left shoulder. “A promise, Mr. Lingren. If you were available, you wouldn’t be sorry.”
He chuckled. “I know this is probably the alcohol talking, or can I use the same argument you gave me? Bragging women can make lousy bed partners, Ms. Bisset.”
“You’d enjoy me,” I said and grinned at him. “Somebody will, and soon. I’m going to find some lucky guy or guys over the summer and ‘get my groove back,’ or so the saying goes.” I went into a spin.
When my eyes fell on him again, he was no longer smiling.
“You plan to hook up with some random guy or guys that don’t give a damn about you to get a groove back to own your ex?”
I stopped dancing and narrowed my eyes. What’s Ford’s problem? “You’re making it sound nasty and stupid. There’s nothing wrong with uncomplicated sex with someone who makes me feel sexy.”
“You’re already sexy, Jasmine. Keep dancing.”
I laughed and danced around, and he watched me. The more he watched, the more suggestive my movements became. My hands squeezed my breasts, then I slapped my ass. “I want to feel really sexy, like grabbed and kissed with passion. Ravaged. I’ve never had that.”
He shook his head. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Have you?” I paused and stared over at him.
He placed his arms along the back of the couch. “Yes. I have… If you’re not drunk, you’re a hysterical dancer and a terrible flirt. By the way, I don’t have a swimsuit for you to wear in the aqua massage.”
“I’ll go nude,” I said with a shrug. Then I stopped to move my hands under my skirt to take off my tights. I started taking off my shirt when I remembered I had on my regular cotton five-pack sea-blue undies and a tan underwire bra.
“Does casually undressing in front of me mean you no longer see me as a man, Jasmine?”
I stopped dancing and looked at him. His smile was rueful, but he looked kind of upset. “What do you mean?”
“You strip in front of me like I wouldn’t notice your body, and you passive-aggressively proposition me for sex, or is this a tease?”
I didn’t know where to look, and suddenly, the room felt tighter, and my breathing a bit harder, especially under the weight of his intense gaze.
I lifted my chin. “I was flirting, just like you. You’re not available anyway. You’re on a ‘break,’ so that makes you an ass to offer.” I’d seen the show Friends, and “breaks” were code for hung up on each other.
He smirked. “Maybe I am an asshole. Cecile and I agreed sex is fine but not to fall in love. You’re putting yourself out there, and I’m a man alone, so I’ll take it.”
I narrowed my eyes and folded my arms. “You’re offering yourself out of convenience to fill your time while you wait for Cecile to return? How romantic.”
“You looking for romance or to have sex? Or does this surprise lover now have to romance you into bed? Sounds like he has to put in more time than a casual hookup.”
“Why do you care? Do you even like me?”
“I don’t have to like you to fuck you, Jasmine.” The way he said, “fuck you” made my body clench. I shifted my legs and didn’t dare look at his handsome face. Was he toying with me?
“You have sex with people you don’t like?” I scrunched up my face.
“Yes. I have even loathed some. Not the best bed partners, but I wasn’t out to make them happy, just me,” he said cockily. Was he really a dick, and I hadn’t seen it? My asshole radar must still be broken.
I grimaced. “So, you hated some of your bed partners, and you had sex with them anyway? Did you both know you were using each other?”
“You’re overthinking sex. You’re already squeamish about hate sex and want to talk about romance. Face it, groove sex is not your speed. You won’t have this selfish summer. It’s a theory you dreamed up in your head.”
“I can do it. My chosen guy doesn’t have to like me, per se. I’m looking for my own awakening. We only need to be attracted to each other. Maybe it will take many encounters to get there, who knows? But I can do it.”
He snorted and shook his head. “So, you want to become a slut.”
I furrowed my brows. “A woman claims her own sexuality, and she becomes a slut to you? You’re the slut. You sleep around with people you hate.”
“What does sleep have to do with it? I said fuck, but you can’t even say that. Men can be sluts too. There’s equal opportunity in being a slut.”
I lifted my chin. “I don’t ascribe to that word.”
“Fine, does ‘positively easy’ sound better?” he asked. The snark in his voice rang clear.
I folded my arms. “Pleasure seeker or hedonist will do fine.”
“You can dress the name up however you’d like, you’ve still decided to go for sex only to please yourself, or so you claim. But that’s not you, Jasmine. I bet you couldn’t make it through one sexual encounter without trying hard to please the man. Face it, you’re not the selfish type. You’re a pleaser. An A-plus overachiever coloring within the lines.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is that your psych degree 101 or bullshit analysis? You don’t know what I can do.”
“I know I’m right. And plenty of men will take you up on your offer. But none of them will answer why you were cheated on. You may feel desired for an hour or two, but sex won’t make someone keep you.”
“Whatever, Ford,” I mumbled.
It was all I could think to answer back because a bit of his self-righteous drivel hit home. Randall hadn’t been the first cheater. And that was why it hurt more. Something about me left those I loved feeling unfulfilled. And after every relationship, I tried harder. But I didn’t want to talk about this with Ford.
“I don’t want to talk anymore.”
His face softened. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I folded my arms and stared down at my feet. “I’m not upset.”
Ford came over to stand in front of me and lifted my chin up to the light. “You’re a terrible liar.”
When his hand lingered, my pulse sped up, and I averted my eyes. I didn’t want him reading me. I was tired of being dismissed or unrecognized. “There’s… there’s a lot more to me than you know.”
“Of course, there is so much more to you, Jasmine. I hope you find out, but random hookups aren’t the answer. I said what I did because you annoyed me by treating me like a buddy instead of a man. I want the same things all men want, and I’m just as selfish. You can spend all your days weeding out this perfect encounter, but you’ll still find the same man. And you’ll be left used and depressed or worse, bitter. You won’t get the answers you think.”
“I’m not looking for answers. I’m not out for love and marriage. I’m just done with relationships.”
“I thought I was jaded. I won’t ever stop looking for someone to share my life with. And neither should you.”
Like holding out for a woman who left you?The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t want to say something so cold-blooded when he was raw with pain.
His phone rang, and his warm hands released me. And for some reason, I felt even more alone.
“I should take this call,” he murmured.
I nodded in his direction. “Yeah, okay. I think I’ll go to bed now… alone. I mean, I’m off to bed to sleep only.” Why was I stammering?
This is not me. And Ford is right.
He didn’t answer until I looked over at him.
His smile turned wistful. “Sweet dreams, Ms. Bisset.”