Interracial Love Stories

Short Romance Stories

Romantic Short Stories

Jasmine was not looking for a relationship with a man.

Any man.

Particularly not with a white man.

As many of her friends subtlety and her not-so-subtle family pointed out occasionally this didn't surprise any of them since, unlike her career, her track record was far from stellar in the man department.

Jasmine was the epitome of an independent woman in the 21st century. Unfortunately, this combined with an aloof demeanor made it seem as if she only needed men for sex. One guy she dated for about two minutes had the balls to say she didn't need a man because she had a vibrator. After that lovely exchange Jasmine threw her drink into his face, but later she wondered if it was because of what he said or the mortifying fact that she had considered buying a vibrator a few days before.

If she had only been independent Jasmine wouldn't have given up on having a relationship. But she knew it was much more. Jasmine represented the triple threat. Beautiful. Brilliant. Affluent. This turned off most men and scared the hell out of the rest.

. . . or so she thought.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
Jasmine caught the elevator right before the doors closed. A quick look at her watch told her she had a few minutes to spare before meeting Dori for lunch.

A man was running for the elevator, Jasmine heard him say, "hold it please" and pressed the button to keep the doors open for him.

"Thanks," he said, stepping into the elevator.

"No problem." Jasmine replied turning her face toward the buttons not looking at him again. As far as she was concerned that was the end of their conversation.

Until then the elevator stopped.

"It's just a minor power outage," a melodious voice informed them over the speaker above the control panel. Then she apologized and assured them they would be inconvenienced five to fifteen minutes tops.

Jasmine stood still for a few minutes then began fidgeting as her arch began to cramp. Of course. . . the day the elevator broke down would be the same day she chose to wear her brand new $670 dollar Jimmy Choo that-she-had-to-have-because-they-were-eighty-percent-off-and-made-her-legs-look-like-perfection-even-though-they-hurt-like-hell-after-standing-in-them-for-more-than-an-hour high heel sandals.

After two minutes in agony she could take no more, with a brief glance in his direction, Jasmine bent over to release her feet from their gorgeous torture chambers.

Jasmine was so into taking the shoes off that it didn't occur to her to consider the view he was getting of her behind from behind. But it must have been quite impressive because in their close quarters within seconds she could feel an intense scrutiny and heat emanating from his direction.

She glanced at him again, and caught him staring at her ass. Opening her mouth, Jasmine prepared to let him have it for being a perv. Until their eyes met again and he gave her a lopsided sheepish grin accompanied with slight shrug as if to say "what can I do, I'm a man." Jasmine pressed her lips shut, not saying a word -- how could she? He resembled a blond Clark Kent or Boy Scout, the man's gaze was pure appreciation, not even remotely pervish.

Clearing his throat, he said, "I have some water if you'd like it…" His voice was deep, confident and for a second suggestive enough to illicit a stupefied response from Jasmine.

"Wha'???"

She stared at him uncomprehending, then noticed the paper bag and two bottles of water in his hands.

"It's getting warm in here, I thought you might like a drink."

Jasmine hadn't noticed it was any warmer than when she first stepped into the elevator, but she knew exactly what type of heat he was referring to.

. . .and she wasn't interested. Period.

Regaining her composure, she replied, "No, I'm fine, thank you."

"Are you sure, I've got two."

She knew he wanted her to look at him again, but she didn't. "I'm fine, really."

"Do you work in this building?"

Man, some guys could not take a hint. "No."

"I didn't think so, there is no way I wouldn't---"

He stopped himself and busied himself opening the water bottle, then took a healthy swig of water.

Before she could stop the words, Jasmine found herself asking, "You wouldn't what?"

He grinned, "I think you know what I was going to say."

When Jasmine looked at him again, he made it very clear he was flirting with and coming on to her. From the glint in his eye, she knew he wanted there to be no confusion that he. . . a white man was interested in her. . . a black woman.

Jasmine frowned, looking away from him. Lately, she couldn't help but notice white guys paying so much attention to her. It had started on night when she was out partying with some girlfriends. As they passed a homeless guy who was lying in the gutter, he singled Jasmine out and with a bright smile said very sincerely, "If you clean me up, I'd make a pretty good boyfriend."

But this man was hardly some poor old soul lying in the street. Oh no, he was tall, dark-eyed, blonde, and even with his light blue shirt, tie and dark trousers she could tell he was built... with rock hard thighs. She had never seen a body like that on a white guy and the only men she had ever seen with thighs that incredible were brothers.

Realizing she had been looking at him from head to toe and was now staring at his thighs, Jasmine felt her ears burn (once again thanking God folks couldn't tell when she was blushing). From where he was standing it probably looked like she was staring right at his crotch, not his thighs.

When Jasmine didn't respond to his remark, he held out his hand, "I'm Blake Thayer, and you are. . .?"

He looked at Jasmine expectantly, she opened her mouth and paused.

"No. . . what's your real name."

Jasmine blinked twice, how did he know she was bout to give him a bogus name?

"Jasmine. My name is Jasmine Holt."

"Jasmine, would you have lunch or dinner with me?

She considered him for a long moment, trying to figure out his angle, why was he was asking her out when there were probably no shortage of white women who would love to go out with someone like him.

"Uh, thanks, but. . .n---"

Blake interrupted her, "Please don't say no. I realize it's a strange, especially to be asked out in an elevator."

She had nothing to say to that, he was right, it was very strange.

"I'd just like to see you under different circumstances," he paused at the question in her eyes, "I just would, there is no logical explanation -- besides your being a very beautiful woman."

Oh, like she hadn't heard that lame line before. Giving him a half-smile, Jasmine shook her head and turned away slightly wondering how long they would have to stand there in awkward silence.

The melodious voice informed them that the elevator would be functioning again within three minutes, Jasmine breathed a sigh of relief.

As doors opened on Jasmine's floor, she slipped her sandals back on and looked over at him one more time.

"Well. . . good bye, Blake."

"This is my floor too," he smiled, and with a small wave walked off in the opposite direction.

Regarding Blake for a long moment, Jasmine watched him walk away, and felt an instant regret feeling it was wrong to have said no his invitation and let him go, yet not knowing what to do about it.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
In the glass reflection running parallel to the elevators Blake watched Jasmine looking at him. He didn't turn around or give any indication that he had seen her, but he did made a decision that would change both their lives.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
At lunch Jasmine told Dori about Blake, without mentioning his name.

"They're getting bolder and bolder aren't they?"

"What do you mean." Jasmine replied.

"Back in the day, they looked at us but rarely spoke. Now they let you know they are checking you out and waste no time getting all up in your grill."

"But don't you think most of them just do it to get some coochie?"

Dori shrugged, "Probably, but how is that different from any other man?"

The two friends laughed. Jasmine gave her best friend an affectionate glance, "Yeah, well, you've got a point there. . ."

"So what is the thing bothering you most?"

". . . mmmmm. . . the whole jungle fever thing."

"Well, sure, that's a given… but, all of them? I doubt it. They're like all men, you just have to use your discernment."

"So would you date one?" Jasmine asked.

"I don't about that. . .but, I'm wouldn't put down anyone else who does.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
The only reason Blake had gotten off on the same floor as Jasmine was to see where she going. He called his secretary and told her he'd be back after 2:00. At 2:04 her friend got off the elevator alone and walked toward the same office Jasmine had disappeared into earlier.

With a purposeful stride he entered the office. A receptionist greeted him and Blake asked her about the woman who had proceeded him. Her name was Dori James and this was her company, she was in PR. Blake smiled, he had just told his brother that morning he was shopping for a new PR firm. Perfect.

Ms. James was booked three weeks in advance, but when Blake turned on his charm full force she found an appointment she had forgotten about, a cancellation, for 2:30 the following day.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
Damn. . . she was doing it again. Jasmine had been thinking about Blake for the remainder of the day. She couldn't understand it, it wasn't uncommon for men to try picking her up or asking her out. Why was he standing out in her mind so much?

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
"Hi, I'm Dori James, what can I do for you?" Dori extended her hand and found it enveloped in firm, warm grip.

Blake smiled, "Hello, Ms. James, I'm Blake Thayer."

Dori's eyebrows practically shot up to her hairline, but she regained her composure and smiled. Blake Thayer, in her office. . . wow. She couldn't imagine what he wanted, but she prayed it was PR.

"There are two reasons I've set up this meeting with you. One is to discuss your firm taking over my corporate PR. The second. . ." and to Dori's amazement he blushed, "I met a friend of yours named Jasmine in the elevator yesterday and. . ."

This was the guy Jasmine had been talking about!??

"I tried to ask her out but I think she thought I was using some cheap pick up lines."

Dori folded her arms, "So why did you come here?"

"She's either a friend or client. I hoped if you sat and talked with me, over lunch or dinner, and got to know me that maybe you could tell her I'm not some player, freak or psycho."

Hmmm. Blake Thayer, was interested in her best friend. Evidently, Jasmine had been so into escaping his name didn't even register. Blake Thayer could have any woman he wanted, and yet there he was in her office, blushing like a 10 year old with his first crush hoping she would hook him up.

She smiled. If there was any man who could handle Jasmine, it was Blake Thayer.

"One question."

"Shoot."

"Why are you interested in Jasmine?" Dori asked pointedly.

He didn't side step the issue, "I've always been attracted to black women."

"Always?"

"Always."

"Really."

"Really." Blake picked up on the skepticism in her tone. "Listen, I'm not some white guy with a jungle fever complex or some other bull… Jasmine is not just beautiful, I sensed so much more. I'd really like to see her again, but I can't do that without your help. Ms. James, lunch or dinner is on me, anywhere you'd like to go. And if you decide not to help me with Jasmine has no bearing on your taking on our PR."

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
"So where are you going for dinner?"

"Lespinasse."

"Lespinasse!!" Jasmine exclaimed, "Lepinasse at the St. Regis Hotel?"

"Mmmm hmmmm."

"Lepin. . .we're talking about the Lespinasse where Chef Delouvrier serves classic French cuisine like foie gras, truffles, caviar, has service to die for and prices that only folks like Oprah or Bill Gates can afford?

"One in the same."

"Must be nice. . . who's taking you?"

Dori grinned, "Someone you don't know."

"New guy?"

"Yep."

"Dang, if he's taking you to Lespinasse on a first date I'd say he was a keeper -- definitely a keeper."

Dori laughed, giving Jasmine an odd look, "I was thinking the same thing. But, I'll let you know for sure later."
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
After one evening, Dori thought Blake was one of the kindest, genuine, humble, down to earth people she had ever met. Spending dinner with him at Lespinasse was so wonderful that for a fleeting moment Dori wished he was interested in her rather than her best friend. When he offered to give her references from his ex girlfriend Dori considered helping him with Jasmine. As they left Lepinasse, Blake suggested they go out a few more times, just so that she could check him out further.

Two weeks later she knew she would help him. There was no way Dori was going to let her best friend miss out on this man.

Dori told Blake what gym Jasmine went to and what her usual work out schedule was; where she hung out with friends after work; the clubs she frequented and on what nights and even which bus she took in the morning. Dori gave him everything except personal information, like where Jasmine worked or lived. Helping Blake out had been easier than Dori anticipated, what proved to be challenging was acting surprised whenever Jasmine mentioned how Blake seemed to be everywhere.

"I feel like he's stalking me."

Dori raised an eyebrow, "Stalking you? Why does he act threatening or anything?"

Jasmine screwed her mouth up, "Well…. no…. it just seems like where ever I am, there he is. Sometimes he says hello, other times he'll just wave or nod his head.

"Has he asked you out again?"

Jasmine looked disappointed, "No. He hasn't."

"If he did would you go?"

"I don't know, maybe."

That night she called Blake and told him Jasmine was opening up to the idea of going out with him.

Blake didn't want to blow it again. Biding his time, he focused his attention on showing up at places the same time Jasmine was. Yet, he never came over or tried to strike up a conversation, but she was aware of his every move.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
Over drinks Jasmine said, "I think Blake has dated black women before."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know, it's just a feeling I get. He doesn't seem uncomfortable talking to all kinds of people and I noticed if black women talk to him while he's out, it doesn't seem to faze him."

"Hmmmm, so maybe he doesn't have jungle fever going on."

"You could be right."
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
That night, Dori called Blake and advised him to make his move.

The next day, he ran into Jasmine at the gym.

He asked her out.

She accepted.
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
On August 7th, one year to the day they met, Dori was Jasmine and Blake's friend of honor at their wedding.

Maya Anthony ©2004

Back to TopHome
Site Map
Copyright ©2003-Intergrata.com
No content of this web site may be used without permission of the webmaster.
Email anne@intergrata.com for more information.
This web site is updated regularly.
Last revised on 03-16-04