Mister Know It All by Amélie S. Duncan

JASMINE

I won’t care in thirty years

The alarms caught me off guard. Who puts an alarm on a greenhouse in a penthouse? New Yorkers, I suppose. I could lie to myself that I didn’t inspect Ford’s body when he dropped the towel or that I told him right away that it had fallen. But I didn’t. My eyes feasted. And he was a full-course dinner.I mean, sweet Jesus. His body was like something an artist would wish to carve in stone. Every muscle defined, from his smooth chest to his tapered waist and seven-pack abs down to his legs. He had a small trail of hair below his navel down to his cock. A shower, and what a show.

My only excuse was that I have a photographic memory. But in my defense, Ford must’ve felt his towel slip off. He strutted his tight ass boldly over to the alarm box in front of me.

Had he wanted me to see him naked?

The move was awfully forward, incredibly scintillating, and now robbed me of sleep.

Instead of being a gentleman, Ford used the moment to point out my reaction as immature. What was I supposed to do? Jump on him? Ridiculous. And completely unbelievable from a man on a “break” that shuts down at the mere mention of his missing girlfriend. His eyes darted around, and his head dropped forward like he wanted to avoid looking at the spot on the grass. Perhaps he’s still in love with her. Yet he offered to have sex with me. He said he didn’t even have to like me to do it. I wouldn’t want to be with someone who didn’t at least like me. And I’d never have sex with a man who was still in love with someone else. Break or not, it meant I’d be involved in helping him kind of cheat. Besides, I didn’t even know if I liked Ford.

Okay, that was a lie. Ford was great to hang around with, though bossy and fussy. He seemed to be a good listener and had a dry wit I liked. And of course, I couldn’t leave out how incredibly attractive he was.

I screamed into my pillow. What was I doing?

I was supposed to be starting my own selfish summer, living it up, going through a sexual awakening. But instead, I obsessed over the first man I came across. And he was still obsessed over his ex. Was I that attention-starved?

I hadn’t even considered I’d be the one standing in the way of my own pleasure. Would I end up wasting every future sexual encounter proving I could sexually please men or get them to please me? That had been the one thing I found most annoying in every relationship I had. Not a single man had asked what I wanted in bed. And if I asked, they’d get all indignant as though I’d insulted them.

How do women get past big egos and get what they want?

I went to my laptop and typed this out to ponder. This may be the beginning of my experiment. But now it was 1:30 a.m., and I needed to sleep. The bed was comfortable, but I ended up unable to shut my mind off. I gave up and called Tam at five, right before she’d go for our early morning run. She answered on the first ring.

“I saw Ford naked, and he offered to hate fuck me while he waits for his ex to return,” I blurted.

“Slow down and tell me everything,” Tam said, and I told her everything up to the greenhouse.

“Do you have a photo of him? I need to see if his attitude is worth it,” she said.

I checked my phone and found one he sent me of me with him in the helmet. I stared at his smile, and my pulse went faster. He was really gorgeous. I sent it to Tam.

“Hello, lover. I see why you can’t sleep. He’s an Adonis geek who offered you uncomplicated break sex? He sounds like your own personal wet dream. Bless Soraya. Please, let me send her a description of what I’m looking for so she can hook me up.”

“I doubt Soraya set me up. She wasn’t expecting me. Ford is Graham’s cousin, and he offered to let me stay overnight, not make an indecent proposal. He went rogue, I’m sure of it.”

“A sad, old dude offering money for a hookup because he has to buy sex is an indecent proposal. But I understand what you mean. His break thing sounds complicated and messy. Just go out and see what’s out there. You’re just out of a relationship yourself.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” I hadn’t even thought of Randall, and that surprised me. He’d been everything I geared my life around, and I didn’t miss him. Bitterness maybe? I had thought I loved him.

“How are you doing?” I asked.

“MCAT test and labs. Otherwise, the usual. I’m going out with Wendy and Uri to a new nightclub. I’ll tell them you said hello.”

“Tell them I miss them. Talk to you soon.”

I hung up the phone and made a new plan: masturbate, sleep, and forget about Ford in the morning. After all, coming to NYC wasn’t even about a hookup until my conversation with Tam. I was here to find myself, and that wasn’t all about sex. It was about me . . . and seeing if I could love myself again.

I showered when I woke up at eleven and changed into a black scoop-neck shirt and cargo pants. I braided my hair in two braids down my back, then packed my bags. I was stripping the bed down just as Ford appeared at the door. He was in a tailored gray linen suit with a white shirt and black tie, his hair parted on the side and combed neatly in place. The only thing that wasn’t immaculate was the stubble on his square jaw. He was trendy, stylish, and devastatingly handsome. “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you too. I thought you’d like to change the bed . . .”

“I’ll take care of it,” he muttered.

“Yeah, you’re probably particular. We should get going. Soraya said you’re dropping me off?”

“I was hoping you’d have brunch with me first,” he said.

I waved my hand and picked up my purse. “Thank you for your offer, but I’m not really hungry. Last night was magnificent. Sorry I talked too much and set off your alarm. You were a gracious host, but yeah, let’s go.”

Ford didn’t move. He eyed me like he was studying me, and I fiddled with the zipper on my bag, unable to keep my hands steady. Something about him just made me feel anxious.

“I enjoyed having you over. I don’t have many visitors who enjoy sci-fi and would be happy with eating burgers and me working. As for the rest, you have nothing to be sorry about.”

He took my suitcase, and I carried my bag down the stairs.

On my way to the front door, I passed the dining room and a feast: eggs, quiche, waffles, bagels, muffins, sliced meats, and vegetables. I knew without him telling me that he’d gone out of his way to make this special. Perhaps I wasn’t the only one vulnerable. This man’s thoughtfulness kept surprising me.

Ford was right behind me, silent.

“Now, I feel bad. You’ve been amazing to me. Thank you so much for this. On second thought, I’ll stay for brunch.”

His gaze was soft on me, and his lips curved upward. “Thank you.”

I let him take my bags, move them by the front door, then took the chair next to where he sat at the large oak table. Once I started eating, I realized I was hungry. I put everything on my plate. All except what looked like a deconstructed pizza that I feared had more kale. Of course, that was the one thing Ford noticed.

He held up a slice to my lips. “Don’t limit yourself. Try it, please.”

“Only because you begged.” I took a small bite, then tried to hide the smile I had. It’s delicious. “It’s okay.”

His expression morphed into a smug grin. “I thought so.”

He leaned over and moved my braid over my right shoulder, then stared back admiringly.

“Pretty,” he said.

I grinned as my heart skipped a beat. “So, what are your plans at work today?”

“Phones, files, meetings,” he said. “My friend Martin may stop by. Did you and Soraya make plans?”

“Not formally. I’ll catch up on Soraya’s life as a mommy,” I said. “Maybe a girly day if she’s up for it, or I’ll go out on my own for a mani-pedi. Something I haven’t done since my exam crunch time.”

From there, we chatted about other things to see and do in the city, what shows he thought I might like, and of course, geek talk. Where do I find a man like him?

After we were both full, I helped him clear and load the dishwasher, then followed him out to the front door. I noticed a gift bag next to my suitcase. “What’s this?”

“I made fun of your patchouli oil. I saw I hurt you, and this is my apology.” He gave me a wolfish smile.

I opened the bag and found a beautiful bottle of designer cologne. “Buying perfume is awfully personal.”

“I know. I’d prefer something more custom-made for you, but this is a scent for a beautiful woman.” He took the bottle and sprayed my wrist. It had an earthy scent like the patchouli but a richer, warm bouquet.

I inhaled deeply and smiled. Ford had good taste. “It smells like heaven, Ford. You’re too much. It’s lovely. Thank you and thank you for letting me stay over.”

He lifted my wrist and brought it to his nose and inhaled.

My skin tingled on contact. I couldn’t deny I felt something when Ford touched me.

“Jasmine.” He whispered my name against my skin, and my pulse sped up.

“You can call me Jaz,” I whispered back.

“I prefer Jasmine. A delicate, fragrant flower; it suits you.”

I tilted my head down to hide the pleasure I felt. His compliment set my pulse to race and made my body yearn. I was hopeless.

He lightly stroked his palm across my warm cheek. “You’re innocent.”

“I’m not. I’m no virgin, Ford.”

“That’s not what I mean. You’re not jaded. You’re still sweet. Whoever you choose to have this fling with should be worthy of you. What I’m saying is, you can talk to me.”

“But you said you didn’t want a friend,” I whispered.

“I don’t,” he whispered back.

My hand lifted to his arm. “Ford . . .”

“Yes, Jasmine?”

What did I want to say?

Truly, the day with him had been a magical bubble. He’d been a great host, and while we clashed on a few things, I didn’t want to forget one minute of the time we spent together.

A minute passed and I still couldn’t speak. But Ford stood there watching me. Attentive and patient, yes, but there was something else in the way he gazed at me. I’d had men look that way before, but never had a man made me short of breath or caused goose bumps to break across my skin without even touching me.

“What do you want?” he asked in a soft tone.

“I . . . I want to mark this moment with you. I want this time etched in my memory.”

I ran my tongue over my lips, and his eyes fused to them. I shifted my legs under his heavy stare as his features filled with lust. My breathing went short. My mind wondered about how amazing he’d be as a lover, and how I wished I could lose my conscience and find out.

He took my face in his large hands, moving down my neck and shoulders, and I lost myself under the feel of his touch. My heart beat wildly in my chest, and I didn’t dare to breathe in case I broke the trance. I lifted my trembling arms and placed them on his broad shoulders. He slid his hands down the sides of my body and gripped my waist, pulling me hard against the front of his. A moan left my lips, and I squirmed in his grasp. My skin felt on fire, and he watched, his eyes never straying from mine. His moves were deliberate. Strong. Bold. I never felt so fevered, so desperate for a man to touch me. And he gave me more. His lips crashed against mine. His tongue tantalized as it stroked against my own, sending shivers of desire across my skin.

“Like that, Jasmine?” he muttered, sucking on my bottom lip.

“Oh, yes. I did. Yes, kiss me, please.”

The sheer strength of his grip on my body and the command of his lips as they caressed mine awakened a passion in me like no other. My body moved at will, arching, pressing into him, growing hot under his touch. Oh, Ford. Yes.

Reaching under my shirt, he yanked up my bra to free my breasts, then pinched my already taut nipples.

I cried out into his mouth as pain and pleasure whirled inside me. He kissed me harder, groaning as our tongues tangled, and rubbed his palm over my sensitive breast. I shuddered as a deep ache grew between my thighs. Shock and excitement flooded my brain. This man could make me come. And if we don’t stop now, I may not have the strength to say no.

I tensed, pushing on his chest. We broke apart, panting.

His hands released my breasts and moved to my waist to keep me upright as I staggered back against the closed door, wobbling on my feet, the aftermath of our contact still burning. My nipples and lips were swollen from his touch, and an unquenched ache throbbed between my thighs. I took deep breaths to even my pulse as my trembling hands moved to set my bra and shirt back in place. When I was sure I regained control, my eyes went to him. Was he as affected as I was?

Ford’s penetrating, blue-eyed gaze was firm as his lips spread into an impish grin. Still incredibly gorgeous and confident as ever.

“That will mark the moment for you.” His tone was low and held amusement.

Was he toying with me?

“That was . . .” Amazing, OMG. “So out of order.”

My response wiped the cocky grin right off his face.

His jaw ticked. “You reached for me. You wanted me to kiss you.”

“That wasn’t a kiss. You mauled me.” I stared down at my sore nipples that were still visible through my shirt.

“And you enjoyed it.”

I averted my eyes. “I most certainly did not. You caught me off guard.”

“I’ll prove it to you.” He picked up his camera and took a close-up photo of my face and showed me. My skin was flushed, my pupils dilated, my lips slightly parted. To be honest, I didn’t need proof. I was undone, and he hadn’t broken a sweat.

“That’s the way you should look at your lover. Like you want him bad and can’t get enough. If not, he’s undeserving of you.”

I furrowed my brows. “So, you kissed me to teach me? Bullshit. You kissed me because you wanted to. As for myself, I suffered a brief lapse in judgment.”

Ford came closer and placed his hands on the back of the door, caging me in. He pressed his muscular body against the front of mine. He could feel the tremble in my body, the swell of my breasts, the breath I struggled to take.

“I liked how you reached for me, and you’ll come to me again. But next time, I won’t make things easy. That way, you won’t get a chip on your shoulder afterward because you’re frustrated.”

I gave him a light shove, and he immediately backed away. But I could see the delight in his face. The cocky bastard knew I was hot for him.

I cleared my throat and squared my shoulders. “You keep on dreaming. God, you’re not even available, and you…we kissed. Now I feel seedy.” I pressed my hands to my chest.

“Seedy summer. Has a ring to it?” He laughed and, without an ounce of shame, opened the door.

I huffed and stormed out.

Seedy summer? No. There is no ring to it. He’s hung up on his missing girlfriend. End of.