“Why?” Ford asked.
“It reminds me of my gran,” I said, and I sucked in air. My gran was the one subject I rarely talked about because I lived in the house she left me. At just the mention of her, I could see her talking to me for hours, telling me she loved me and would always be there.
I was on the verge of tears again.
He pulled over and parked, then took my hand. “You can tell me anything.”
I blinked at him. “You’re pulling over to stop just to listen to me?”
“You’re hurt, and I may need to hold you.”
My heart felt too big for my chest, and I closed my eyes. “You say all the right things. You make me feel like you care.”
“I do, Jasmine. You’re not alone with me.” And that’s exactly what I felt with Ford. Cared for. Important.
“The song reminds me of losing my gran. She was pure love, and losing her was like someone carved out a spot inside me, and I can’t refill it. It can never be fixed. I can’t go a day without feeling her loss, and it’s been a few years. I live in the house she left me, but the pain never leaves.” He undid his seat belt and mine and hugged me.
“Not exactly the mood for a time in a superstore.”
“Pain doesn’t work on a timeframe,” Ford said and kissed my forehead. “You just feel it.”
“You’re so good to me,” I whispered in his ear.
“I want to be,” Ford whispered back, and I thought I heard “always,” but I couldn’t bring myself to ask. “Let me cheer you up, get you a cape, and get you to wear it and nothing else.”
“Was that your plan all along?” I shook my head and laughed.
“Of course,” he said, and we headed in. Before we reached outside the storefront, his phone went off a few times. He checked it and groaned. “Nick. I’m beginning to think he doesn’t know how to do the job at all.”
“He’s a coaster.”
“A what?”
“A guy at work who coasts. No one asks him to do much work, but he always gets promoted.”
“Morgan Financial doesn’t have coasters,” Ford said. “Nick’s just used to Margot and me doing everything.”
“Well, maybe it’s good that he gets to work now.”
“But our work needs someone who’s up for it,” Ford said. “I’ll contact HR to see if they can send out some feelers for a replacement, just in case he is a coaster.”
I frowned. “I told you that in jest, not as a reason to get rid of him.”
“You’re observant, and I don’t think you’d have said it if you hadn’t noticed something. Maybe we can get you to assess everyone.”
I frowned. “No way. I’m not taking away anyone’s livelihood. I’ll go to the shop. You call him back and help him out.”
“You giving me orders, Ms. Bisset?” he said, smiling.
“I am,” I said and hit his butt before ducking into the shop.
I peered through the window and saw him grinning. I waited, not wanting to miss a minute of Ford. Buzz. My phone alerted, and I checked. It was a message from Tam.
Tam: Reference done. Thank you, Dr. Yeats! Off to BC and Harvard to drop off the recommendations!
It was a photo of her picking up my two reference letters from Dr. Yeats.
I sent a picture holding up a Wonder Woman cape.
Jasmine: You’re my superhero.
Tam: Fun! Are you going to get Ford to dress up?
Jasmine: Most definitely.
Tam: You’re torturing the man.
He strolled in, and my pulse skipped a beat. Jesus. Will I ever not go crazy when I see him? We went over to the counter.
Jasmine: Talk to you later.
“I was talking to Tam. She dropped off the reference letter.” My head tilted down. “I was sort of celebrating.”
“You should,” Ford said. He kissed my forehead. “Stop thinking so hard. We’re superheroes today.”
One of the shop managers came over to speak to us. “So, which superheroes do you want to be? Or are you going to create your own?”
“Wonder Woman for her,” Ford said.
“Homelander for him,” I told him.
“He’s evil. I thought you’d go for Captain America,” Ford said in surprise.
“This is a fantasy. I want him for a few hours,” I said as my cheeks heated.
He chuckled. “So you want to use him for sex?”
“The body wants what the body wants.”
Ford didn’t even bat an eye and took the costume into the dressing room. He came out and posed with his hands on his hips. His muscular body filled out the tight red and blue bodysuit oh so well. The shopkeeper turned on a fan, and the USA flag cape billowed behind him. My ovaries exploded.
He gave me a stern look that weakened my knees. “I’m Homelander, and I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.”
Shifting my legs, I flicked my gaze to my breasts and cocked a brow.
“You’ve got a dirty streak.” He gave me a wicked smile and grabbed my waist, pulling me into the dressing room. I held on to the clothing hook as he yanked down my top and bra, then covered my breast with his mouth and drew hard, sending a shot of pleasure and pain through my body.
Fuck. I gazed at his mouth and leaned in, willing him to do more.
Ford suckled, and my eyes went back in my head.
“Oh, Homelander,” I moaned.
Ford laughed.
“You’re breaking character, Ford.”
He swirled his tongue around my nipples, then sucked. I moaned louder.
“No sex in the dressing rooms!” a shopkeeper called out.
“We’re…we’re buying the costume,” I said breathless.
Ford laughed and kissed me hard on the lips. “To be continued later. Now your turn.”
We both went into the dressing room and tried on a bunch of different outfits. I looked around and wondered why we were the only ones in the shop at this hour.
“I rented the place for us,” Ford said.
“You did?” I exclaimed. “That’s so unbelievable. I can’t believe you did that for me.”
He kissed my lips. “It’s for me too. Now go on and get changed. I’ve got fantasies too.”
The shop manager brought out Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Catwoman. Ford took photos while I pretended to take off and fly.
When I ran out in my Wonder Woman costume, he took photos of me. His expression turned carnal. “Yeah. I’d like two of those.”
“Two?” I asked.
“I may be a bit eager to take that off you when we get back,” he said. And I didn’t get even a hint of humor. Ford always made me feel like the only woman in the room and beautiful.
“Add one special outing to the calendar for me,” Ford said. “Then you’ll see what it’s like to do whatever I want.”
I couldn’t wait.
He picked me up and carried me over his shoulder out of the shop.
“We haven’t changed,” I pointed out, but Ford kept going.
We walked out of the superhero store in our Wonder Woman and Homelander costumes. Some people stopped and stared, and cameras were out. I was too happy to care, but I wondered about Ford. He didn’t change or even try to rush us to the car, though he placed me on my feet and held my hand as we walked the many blocks back to where we parked. What had gotten into this man? I couldn’t wait to find out. He turned his head to me, and our gazes collided and held. In there was everything we shared, all our secrets, our pain, our laughter. Us.
“You want to mark the moment?” he asked, smiling.
I already had.
JASMINE
After capes, there is no embarrassment
It took a couple more weeks before I finally got Ford to agree to go to a karaoke bar in the East Village. The Bar didn’t look like much from the outside, a retail shop glass front with dark velvet curtain windows blocking the outside view. However, once inside, it opened up to a mini-theater with rows of multicolored wooden tables and
chairs before a stage. The karaoke had already started, and the hall was filled with a guy singing a throaty falsetto of Adele’s “Skyfall” in a sequin-checkered suit.
Ford had led us from the door to the L-shaped bar for drinks, and even in the soft lights, his gorgeous profile was hard to miss, and tonight was no different. He’d gone casual again as he’d done a few times recently when we went out together, dressed in a fitted shirt and painted-on dark denim jeans that showed off his sexy ass.
He leaned close to the bar and ran a hand back through his thick blond hair, flexing his bicep. That was enough to get the blue-haired swim-suited Bettie Page lookalike behind the bar’s attention. In fact, there were quite a few Bettie Page lookalikes around the bar. This Bettie at the bar leaned forward on her tits and purred, “What would you have, gorgeous?”
“A cosmopolitan for her and a sparkling water for me,” Ford ordered in a polite tone.
“Sparkles for the sparkle,” she said. Her eyes shifted between us, then gave him a wink and an air kiss before leaving to make our drinks. She was confident she’d be able to take him from me.
But Ford wrapped his arms around me from the back and squeezed my waist.
“I only have eyes for you,” he said and kissed the top of my head, and I turned in his arms to face him. He didn’t have to reassure me. His attention never strayed. He made me feel like I was the only one in existence, and he captivated me just as much. When our gazes fused, we both forgot about everything else.
“Make your request for songs here,” Bondage Bettie lookalike at the end of the bar called out.
“What are you going to sing?” I said.
“I don’t sing. I agreed to come. That’s enough,” he said with a glint in his eye.
I put my hands on my hips. “Nope. That wasn’t the agreement. You said we go out together, we do things together.”
Ford surprisingly relented and got the Bettie Page to lean over and let him whisper his choice.
He grinned. “It’s a surprise.”
“So is mine then,” I said, then made a secret selection too.
“Probably Rhianna,” he said and touched my face, lifting it higher so I could meet his eyes. He could read my face so well. His gaze bore in, and there was a warmth that made my heart race.
“Maybe,” I whispered.
His hand lingered, spreading to cup the side of my face. “I’m sorry I had to fly away again. I missed you.”
I swallowed and lowered my eyelids, not trusting my voice not to shake, and decided not to speak. I missed Ford when he traveled, though I did appreciate phone calls and text messages. It wasn’t nearly as great as going to sleep and waking up in his arms, though.
Margot’s absence had put a lot of pressure on his art and design team. He’d already taken the lead on most work, but it seemed he’d been doing more work than the rest. So when he took off, he ended up having to do twice as much to keep things running. I’d complained to Graham, but I already knew HR was scouting to expand the team. They just hadn’t found the right person yet.
“Let’s have fun tonight,” Ford said and kissed my lips.
We didn’t talk about my return to Boston for my last semester next month. I’d extended my time to the first week in September and had already preregistered for my final courses. So much had changed in such a short time. What I could have and what I wanted had changed too.
“Come back to me, Jasmine,” Ford said and kissed me again.
“Your water and virgin drink are ready,” Betty Page called to us loudly, breaking the moment. We collected the drinks, and I followed him to take a seat at an empty table.
We sat down with our drinks and listened to a group sing Spice Girls and Proclaimers and a very soulful Joni Mitchell before I heard my name.
“Next up, Jasmine.”
I drank the rest of my cosmo, but I didn’t need the liquid courage. Rarely did I miss a chance to shine if presented with one.
Bouncing on my feet, I did a running hop on the stage and twirled in a circle just as the notes from Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten” started.
Singing wasn’t my strong point, but karaoke was more about lively entertainment, and I had that. The crowd knew the words and sang the hit along with me. During my woeful running man shuffle and twerk, I looked over at Ford. He took pictures but laughed hard enough to hold his side. Of course, I saved my best dance moves for the end. I spin-kicked, jump-kicked, and slid down to the splits.
The crowd was on their feet cheering and holding up the table candles like I was a rock star. Without a doubt, I rocked.
I swaggered off the stage, and Ford stood up.
I jumped into his arms, and he kissed my lips hard.
“You’re a lot more flexible than you’ve shown me so far.”
“I’ve got to keep you guessing, Mr. Lingren. Hatha Yoga-crazed parents.”
“Bless your parents.”
“You watched me, and sex is the only thing that came to mind?”
“You’re also adorably insane, Jasmine. I loved it.”
“I thought you’d be embarrassed,” I said. “Where are your warnings of memes?”
“After capes, there is no embarrassment,” he said and kissed me.
I’d also been scared of filming tourists, but tonight I didn’t care. I marked the moment, I lived my life the way I wanted to, and it made me feel free. Happy.
After my epic performance, a woman took the stage and slaughtered Rhianna’s “Only Girl,” but I couldn’t help but remember dancing to her music with Ford that first night. How easy things were even then when we were together. How I got off on how he watched me. I didn’t know what I wanted back then, but he’d been right: a selfish summer fling would’ve left me feeling alone, maybe even bitter. What I’d had instead was a handsome man who adored me just as I am.
“Our next singer tonight is Ford.”
Ford stood, and the Bettie let out a catcall. “Oh, yes. Ford. Please bring your fine ass to the stage.”
He took the microphone, and my heart hammered against my ribs. Ford didn’t sing in the car or shower. I hadn’t heard him sing at all yet, so I was on the edge of my seat as “All of Me” by John Legend began to play, and Ford started singing to me. An ambitious song to pull off, but Ford’s tenor was pitch-perfect. I always loved this song. It was a song about true love and acceptance.
“All your perfect imperfections . . .”
My eyes filled, and my vision went blurry. My hand shook as I touched my trembling lips. I never heard love before, but my heart felt it in his song as he sang to me. How Ford saw all of me and didn’t try to change me.
My heart cracked open, and I knew I was in love with him. I had been afraid of love or to even say what I felt because I feared he wouldn’t love me back. But I couldn’t stop my heart. I loved Ford, all of him. His fussy, nerdy, and bossy side. His sex god and tender side. All of them held me all night and whispered his dreams and carried mine.
Love happened fast. Love happened.
He came back and cupped my face, wiping my tears with his thumbs. He took my lips, and I kissed him back.
“Can we go?” I wanted sex, but what I wanted more was to be alone with him.
“Not yet. We still have a song,” Ford said.
“We?” I asked.
“Ford and Jasmine come back on the stage.”
The first notes of “Love Is All Around” By Wet Wet Wet started playing.
My eyes watered. “I can’t sing this.”
“You can,” Ford said. “You love this song. I saw it on the list of your favorite songs on your blog.”
Ford started singing. “I feel it in my fingers . . .”
My eyes watered. “I can’t sing this . . .”
I looked at him, and his eyes shone. “I love you, Jasmine.”
“Ford, right now?” I sobbed.
He wrapped me up in his arms and let me bury my face in his chest while he sang the rest of the song to me. I felt his love
surround me. He showed me.
I feel your love, Ford. I love you.
Ford tucked me into his side and walked me off the stage and out of the bar.
“I want to watch you touch me, petal.”
We returned to Ford’s house and went straight to his bed.
My hands hungrily explored his muscles that felt like smooth stone underhand. His cock was long with a thick girth. His strong thigh and legs had soft, light hair. Even his feet looked good. There wasn’t a part of him that didn’t turn me on.
His scent, a combination of his cologne and natural masculine sweat.
For the most part, he laid back and watched my reaction to my discoveries, though he interrupted a few times by putting his hand between my thighs.
“No fair. I’m not done,” I whined. And then moaned when I became caught up in the feel of his hands as he fingered me.
Honestly, I had been taking my time, memorizing him and this surreal time and space I’d fallen into with him, an extraordinary man who made my heart pound and flutter at the same time.
Ford took my wrists and lifted them above my head, then straddled me. Pinning me on my back, he said, “Stay on your back.”
“But I want to watch you.”
His eyes filled with lust, and I shuddered as he caressed my bare mound. “I like the waxing, but I also liked your hair. We’ll get her to leave a small strip next time.”
“You care about that? That’s a bit obsessive.”
“I care about all of you,” he said and kissed the top of my mound. I shuddered and raised my head to look at him. He met my eye with a joyous smile that seeped into my heart. “Every part of you is mine and precious.”
My chin trembled, and I lay back. He claimed me as his own, and he thought of me as precious. A deep longing inside me burst. Will anyone ever treat me as good as Ford treats me? See me as good as he does? I didn’t want to leave him.
“Jasmine, what’s wrong? Please tell me.” He moved me so that we were facing each other.
“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay or come back, not just for work. I want us to see each other.”
Mister Know It All: A Hero Club Novel Page 24
