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One Shots

Blind Date



For about the tenth time during this one phone call, Jasmine insisted, “Carly, just no. I’m not going on a blind date with a fucking hockey player.”

“Do you know how many women would kill to be in your position? Like, they would literally kill you to take your place.”

Jasmine sighed and tried to see it that way, to no avail. “Well, they don’t need to bother, they can take my place if they’d like.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“I am not. Just…tell me who it is and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

“I told you, I can’t tell you. That was his one rule for us setting him up with a date, you can’t know who he is.”

“Why? Because I might Google him and find out something I shouldn't? No thanks.”

“Or maybe he just wants to make sure we don’t fix him up with a fortune hunting skank who’s just after him for his name and status. I’ve already said too much telling you he’s a hockey player.” Carly and Jasmine both sighed and Carly went on, “Please? Will you please just do this for me? You’re new to the city, so let the man take you out, have a few drinks, if you find him unbearable, you can leave after a few hours. Please? I’ll owe you one.”

Jasmine set down the wine glass she had been holding and thought about she would be doing tomorrow night if she said no. Probably re-watching Pride and Prejudice with a container of take-out on her lap. She had only been in New York for six months and had spent most of it at the office or in her apartment. Maybe it would be good to get out, hit the town with a guy and see where it went.

“If I do this, I need a new dress. I’ll meet you at Bergdorf's at noon tomorrow on my lunch break. Don’t be late.”

Carly was shouting her thanks when Jasmine hung up on her, still thinking this was a terrible idea that was probably going to be nothing but a pain in her ass.

The next evening, uptown, Derick Brassard stood in front of his mirror running a fabric brush over his suit. Mats Zuccarello sat on an ottoman in his walk-in closet and Derick asked him, “Who’s this girl again?”

“Jasmine Mitchell, book editor, born in Oklahoma, graduated from Bryn Mawr, looking to do graduate work at Columbia.”

Derick allowed himself to be impressed; at the girl is smart, he thought, unlike the usual vapid, but beautiful women he usually end up hanging around with. Pulling out a drawer, he picked a watch and worked it onto his wrist. “And how do you know her?”

“She’s a friend of a friend…of a friend.” Derick surveyed him with a disapproving look. “Hey, you want a girl in New York who’s never heard of you, this is how I had to find her. She just moved to the city a few months ago and is not a hockey fan.”

“I suppose this was the only way. Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

A short while later, Mats and Derick arrived at the New York Public Library’s flagship central location on 42nd. While Mats entered with his girlfriend, Derick waited on the stairs for his date. He did not want to be on a blind date and he certainly didn’t want to be at this benefit. Unfortunately, he had no choice in the latter, which meant he needed a date and that meant beggars can’t be choosers. He needed a date, Mats had found him one, he would deal with whatever came. He just hoped the woman was able to hold a decent conversation and make this a decent evening.

He checked his watch. She was late, which was annoying him to no end. They had agreed to meet by the left lion statue at 8:00 p.m. and it was now 8:05. He was about ready to abandon his post when a cab pulled up a women emerged looking positively glorious and who served to distract him from his discontent.

She was tall, made even more so by simple silver heels that went well with her black cocktail dress. It was a warm spring night and she wore no coat, letting the off the shoulder style shine without restraint. The fabric was slinky, the hem falling a few inches above her knee, but it wasn’t the dress that had him staring, it was her penetrating eyes, high cheekbones and her beautiful dark hair, piled high on her head in a sleek bun that might have looked stuck up had there not been a pencil shoved into it. She looked well put together, but with an air of disinterest that was erotically alluring. And now she was walking right towards him.

“Hi. Are you by chance waiting for a date?”

He needed to thanks Mats, and his friend, and the friend of that friend. He closed his gaping mouth and answered, “Jasmine?”

“Indeed. Um…” She laughed sweetly. “Sorry, Carly didn’t even tell me your name.”

“Derick Brassard,” he offered.

He realized too late he should shake her hand, but he held out his hand to her now. However, when her fingertips touched his palm he griped her fingers and brought her hand to his mouth, pressing his lips against the skin of her knuckles gently. When he met her eyes, they were wide with surprise, but not displeasure.

“I realize we’ve only just met, but please allow me to be forward and say that you look absolutely ravishing this evening.”

Jasmine’s mouth was suddenly dry and she felt that despite the abundance of oxygen around her there was still not enough to fill her lungs appropriately. She wondered why a man this beautiful and obviously charming had to resort to being set up on blind dates by his friends. Then again, maybe she should just count her blessings because she just hit the jackpot of dates, blind or otherwise.

When she realized she was staring at him like a fool, she pulled her hand back gently and tried to swallow. “Thank you. You look wonderful as well. I was just thinking about why a man like you needed to…well…”

He smiled and supplied, “Stoop to accepting blind dates?” After she nodded, he offered her his arm, which she hooked a hand around and then he led her up the stairs. “I play hockey for the Rangers and we’re required to attend a certain number of benefits and events around the city. This is one of my mandatory evenings out. Things like this necessitate a date and since I’m not seeing anyone…I asked Mats to help find me a lady to keep me company.”

“That makes sense.”

“And you? How does a beautiful woman like you end up on a mystery date with only a day's notice?”

Jasmine shrugged. “I haven’t seen much of the city since I moved here. I guess I was bored…curious about who I might meet.”

When he opened the door, he let her pass but whispered his question as she did so. “Are you disappointed?”

Jasmine turned to face him now in the lobby, her breath catching as she tried to respond. Goddamn, he was just so gorgeous and she could get lost in those eyes. “No. Not in the slightest.”

“Good. Just one thing before we go up.”

“Yeah?”

“You know you have a pencil in your hair?”

Jasmine knew her cheeks warmed involuntarily as she fumbled towards her bun to pull out the offending object. “Fuck. Oops, I mean…”

“No, you meant fuck. It’s alright, I’m a grown up, I can take it.”

She chuckled slightly at his joke and stuffed the pencil in her clutch. “I’m sorry. I came from work, got dressed in my office without a mirror, and I must have forgotten about it.”

Christ, if this was how the woman looked after mindlessly dressing in her office after work, he couldn’t imagine how mind blowing she might appear if she had the time to work at it. Better than that, he imagined how she would look with no effort, no clothes or makeup, her hair wild and spread across his pillow. Maybe a little, or make that a lot of sweat dripping along her bare skin as he…

Derick snapped free of the imagine when he saw Jasmine smirking at him. “Now I must apologize, I suppose. My mind tends to wander. Shall we?”

He offered his arm once more and she took it as they went upstairs where the sound of live orchestral music and inane chatter was rising in volume to meet them as they went.

“You don’t enjoy these sorts of things, do you?”

Was he that obvious about it? Who cares if he was, she was smiling at him and the sight had his whole body thrumming with excitement. “Not really. But it’s the nature of the beast, play for a New York team and you gotta play the New York games, that means a ton of bullshit, faking interest during a lot of boring evenings.”

“Hmm, I feel the same way about book release parties. Give me a comfy chair and a manuscript and a pencil any day of the week. That’s how I like getting to know books and authors, not dolled up and making polite conversation that doesn’t mean anything.”

Entering the main mingling area, he slid his hand down her arm until he clasped her hand in his. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me. Especially now that I know this isn’t your cup of tea, I appreciate your company even more.”

Jasmine, for a moment, worried about her palm being sweating, but then noticed his was as well, so she forsook that thought for another: this man was positively incredible and making her feel things in places she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “You are quite welcome. We can suffer together and perhaps it’ll turn out to be less painful than we both imagined.”

His tone dropped when he smiled and said, “I can only imagine experiencing pleasure in your company, never pain.”

Jasmine took a deep breath and told him, “And I’m pretty sure you’re the devilishly handsome and dangerously charming New York City man my mother warned me about before I moved here.”

Derick chuckled and led her into the fray. “Be sure and tell your mother I said thank you for the compliments, but for now…I need a drink. And then I need to hear all about you.”

At his behest, Jasmine told him everything he wanted to know. He wasn’t sure he was going to retain any of the information, but he would happily hear it all again, some other time. It wasn’t his fault, really it wasn’t. He was just perpetually distracted by her lips, the way she licked them after every delicate sip of her Cosmopolitan. And there was her voice, sweet as honey, but also firm and confidence, as if she could command the attention of any room in New York. On top of all that was her eyes, bright green as he could see now in the light of the library and sparkling with wit and amusement.

To say he was mesmerized by her is an understatement, but it wasn’t until she managed to get one over on a snooty woman that he realized he had to have her, and soon.

They were doing what he was supposed to do, making polite, boring chitchat with a few other couples when the conversation turned to Jasmine and her work as a book editor.

The snob in question, a middle aged, stuck up housewife said, “You must not read much in your free time, considering you do it all day for work.”

Jasmine’s response was kind, at first. “Actually, I still read all the time, far too late into the night most days.”

“Hmm, and tell me, what sort of books do you enjoy? You look like a murder mystery girl if I may say so.”

The way the statement was made, it was very clearly intended as an insult. They were at a benefit for one of the largest libraries in the world where book snobbery was to be expected and murder mystery fans were considered the lowest common denominator.

Jasmine smiled and said, “Nothing against a good mystery, but actually, I prefer the Russians.”

Again, the woman's tone was offered as a challenge. “Yes, well, everyone has read Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, child’s play really.”

Jasmine waved this comment off with her hand, “Oh, yes, I read them before I even started college, but now I enjoy more modern Russian authors, Mikhail Bulgakov for example.”

The woman sneered, “Never heard of him.”

Jasmine laughed haughtily, feeling vindicated at once. “Really? The Master and the Margarita is considered one of the finest works of twentieth century and a brilliant piece of satire. Perhaps you were too busy reading Crime and Punishment again so you could put people down at parties with your very basic knowledge of common Russian literature. Might I suggest you expand your notions of intelligence and consider attempting something beyond a high school reading list and then maybe we could have a conversation about how some think Bulgakov was writing an thought piece intent on proving the existence of the spiritual world in the face of rampant atheism in Russia at the time. But…I suppose that will have to be saved for another evening, since you’ve never read it. And on that note, will you excuse me? I think I need another drink.”

Jasmine turned on her heel and sauntered off the bar in a blaze of glory. Derick could just barely keep from laughing. “You must excuse me as well. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

The other couples quickly pretended the rudeness that was Jasmine had never happened and went on with their conversation. When Derick found her, she looked worried about his reaction, so he let out his laugh. “That was…brilliant. And you are fucking fantastic. I have always, always wanted to do something like that at one of these things, but I’ve never been smart enough to really shove it up their asses like you did. How did it feel?”

Jasmine grinned and bloomed under his praise. “It felt…really, really fucking great, Derick.”

It was the first time all night she had said his name it made his whole body feel hard with longing for her. He took a step closer, closer than was socially acceptable. He kept his voice low. “Jasmine…I’d like to take you home now, if that’s alright.”

She looked at his chest for a moment and then raised those green eyes to meet his. She teased him, “Afraid I might pick another fight over Russian literature?”

Derick chuckled and touched her neck gently with his fingertips. He felt her pulse jump under her skin and he smiled cooly. “No. If I can be forward again, I’d just really like to experience your company in a more pleasurable setting.”

His body hiding under that lovely suit, his voice and charm, his penetrating stare, and his warm hand heating her flesh all foretold of the many ways this man could make any setting pleasurable. She nodded once. “Yes, that’s alright with me.”

Home for Derick was luxury one bedroom apartment at the Renoir House. The place was pristine, with white carpet, pale grey furniture, and slick wood cabinets in the kitchen. All which Jasmine walked right past on her way through the living room towards the terrace. She had her hand on the doorknob when she turned and smiled at him.

“May I?”

“Of course.”

She let in the night air when she left the apartment for the platform extending off the building where she enjoy a view of the skyline all brightly lit up. Derick joined her as she leaned on the railing.

“This is beautiful. I live in Brooklyn and my bedroom window faces a parking garage.”

He chuckled. “I would say this is my favorite part about being a Ranger. You can’t beat the scenery of New York.”

“No, you’re right.”

“Do you want some wine?”

Now she turned to face him. “I shouldn’t. I had two cocktails and already feel a little…”

“Yes?”

“Unsteady.” Jasmine was a liar, it was not the Cosmos that had her lightheaded, it was Derick with all his bulk and that wonderful, purely masculine scent.

He knew, he had to know, because he only smiled knowingly and asked, “Would you like me to take you home?”

Jasmine reached out her hand, stroking his shoulder and then down his arm. “No.”

He turned and took her hand, moved them away from the railing and then he kissed her. The mouth he had been eyeing up all night came quickly open under his attentions and he let out a deep moan was he slipped his tongue inside. She was everything he expected and then some, soft and plush, but also highly responsive, meeting him stroke for stroke.

His hands found the bare skin of her back, but soon abandoned that for something even better, the delicate flare of her hips that he caressed over her dress as he continued taking her apart with his mouth. He felt, as well as heard, her whimper against his lips and with one slight shift, she was pressed against the glass that separated the terrace from his apartment and he was kissing her wildly.

Sliding a hand down her hip, he gripped the back of her thigh and then brought her leg against his thigh, fitting their bodies together as he started to grind against her. As much as he wanted her, he was enjoying this, going slow, learning the taste and shape of her mouth that he mapped with his tongue, hearing the little sounds of pleasure she made, feeling the heat of her body even between their layers of clothing.

Finally, they had the same idea at the same time and he broke from her mouth just as she pulled back. She asked, “Should we take this inside?”

He said, “My bedroom is right behind you.”

Without looking, Jasmine kissed him again and groped for the door handle, finding it and then letting them tumble through the threshold. Indoors now, Derick peeled off his suit coat before returning both hands to her body, clutching her ass and then pulling up her dress to run his fingertips along her exposed thighs.

Jasmine let him feel her skin and she went to work on his tie, pulling the silky item loose from his collar and then letting it drop to the floor. Next came the buttons of his shirt, so damn many of them that she make a frantic sound that he swallowed down as they kissed.

When he started kissing her neck instead of her mouth, she lost all patience and sense of decency. She grabbed the two halves of her shirt that were unbuttoned and pulled them apart as hard as she could, sending the rest of the buttons flying around the room. His laugh was hot and breathy on her skin, but she hardly noticed because now her hands were on his chest, hard planes and baby fine hair over silky skin.

He was nibbling on her ear and she only managed a bad attempt at an apology that she didn’t really mean. “Sorry. You’re just so fucking sexy, Derick.”

“Don’t be sorry, though you do owe me a shirt.”

Jasmine laughed, but also clung to him, hands on his back as she felt him drag down the zipper of her dress at her back. He kissed away from her neck and onto her shoulder as he pulled the fabric down over her breasts. When he let go, it slunk to the floor in a perfect circle around her feet until she kicked it away and then nudged off her heels.

As she dropped in height, Derick abandoned his kiss on her skin and pulled back to look at her. With no bra on, her black lacy thong was the only scrap of fabric left on her body and she was even more beautiful than he originally thought.

“Jasmine, tomorrow please remind me to send Mats a fruit basket or something, because this is the best date of my entire life.”

She smiled and told him in between kisses. “You are such a beautiful, charming…beautiful damn man. That was ineloquent. I’m -”

“Mmm, don't be sorry, I got the point. Cosmos still going to your head?”

“It’s just you doing this to me.”

His grin was prideful. “That’s what I like to hear.”

With both hands on her hips he guided her towards the bed and she backed up towards the center of it to accommodate him. Her entire body rose and fell with every breath she took and she was unable to take her eyes off of him. Smiling sweetly, Derick hooked his fingers on the sides of her thong and pulled it down her legs.

As she continued to pant excitedly, she widened her knees and watched him untuck and finally remove his shirt that ended up on the floor as well. While his palms caressed her thighs and pulled them further apart, his eyes were on hers, not being lowered to her body until he bent and licked up her slit in one slow motion.

“Derick!”

Kneeling on the bed, he pulled her closer, hands firm on her hips, mouth hot and wonderful on her core. Jasmine laid back against the mattress, being driven over the edge by his fat tongue and sucking lips.

My God, how she wanted him, how she had wanted him from the moment she saw him standing there by the lion looking like every woman’s fantasy. To know he wanted her this much…was almost too much. And it had been a long time, a long, long time since she had been with a man. Her body was ready for this, need it, craved his touch.

She came in no time, whimpering his name at first and then gasping it as a shout. Derick left her to come down as he stood and lost his pants as quickly as possible. Two easy movements and he was back on the bed, pushing inside her tight, wet center.

“Oh…Derick. Yes…”

Starting to thrust, Derick mumbled, “You are so gorgerous, Jasmine. So brilliant. Thank you.”

Jasmine smiled. “For what?”

“For being yourself, for being my date tonight.”

Now, she chuckled, “No, no, thank you for tonight. Derick…oh, God, you’re so good.”

“Flatterer.”

“Just being honest. But switch with me.”

Derick only groaned and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Their bodies still connected, Derick still pressed deep, Jasmine started to ride him as she freed her hair from the bun that had already started to come undone.

He reached up, stroking her neck and then burying both his hands in the dark waves that fell around her shoulders. He guided her mouth back towards his where he met it in a passionate kiss. Jasmine kept her hips moving, writhing her body on top of his as he kissed her.

She tightened around him, he thrust up to go deeper and feel more of her. Together they came, loudly and with strained breaths. They rested where they ended, Jasmine’s body draped over his, sweaty skin on sweaty skin.

When she lifted just her head, he met in her mouth in a kiss. They rolled and kissed, kissed and wiggled under the blankets until Derick was hard and he had her again. Even later, he made love to her on the lounge chair on his patio just as the sun was starting to rise. And the next morning, they finally fell asleep, Jasmine tucked under his arm, Derick smiling.

Notes

Real talk, The Master and the Margarita is a rocking good time of a book and you should read it to totally put book snobs in their place.

Comments

So it would be nice to have a sequel to this!

Polarvortex Polarvortex
10/8/20

If you decide to do these again, can you have a Braden Holtby story? Name: Kelly, Premise is that she gives him an X-rated surprise when he gets home from winning the cup in Vegas. Rough and filthy please!

hockeyyy hockeyyy
6/12/18

Can you write a chapter with John Tortorella and any player

Lmarina2000 Lmarina2000
4/11/18

damn that was hot

TangersGirl58 TangersGirl58
7/28/17

if you are still doing requests

Kris Letang Pittsburgh Penguins to this song http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/elliegoulding/lovemelikeyoudo.html

Thanks

TangersGirl58 TangersGirl58
7/28/17