Insatiable 2

by J. D. Hawkins

  The worst thing about it all? She’s got ‘the look’ too.

  I feel like there are two giants pulling my body in opposite directions. One of them is telling me to get back in my car, drive home, and catch up on all the moping I’m missing out on. The other (which sounds a lot like Luce) is telling me to walk right up and get Lizzie back.

  Luce wins. Luce always wins.

  I slide through the tables, feeling my old confidence flow back into my body the closer I get. Partly it’s the idea of taking what I want, but mostly it’s because Lizzie looks so fucking hot I’m surprised there hasn’t been a traffic accident in the vicinity.

  She’s got those athletic legs out again, half-covered in a cream skirt that is all Hollywood glamour – if Hollywood did porn. Her white tank top is the kind you see hundreds of girls wear every day, and probably think twice about when they see how Lizzie fills hers. Her tits are so perfect they’ve probably made more women consider implants than jealous husbands – even in LA. Just sitting there she looks like she’s had a team of make-up artists, lighting guys, and an SFX crew work on her for hours. Looking at her feels like going on an adventure, every curve leading you to something magnificent that you wanna take a picture of and show your friends. I’ve forgotten already about all the fucking we’ve done – that seems tame compared to the new shit I’m thinking of doing to her. It’s like seeing her for the first time all over again. Not to mention the memories flashing through my mind of that adorable laugh, the goofy jokes, and her badass, take-no-prisoners approach to everything from verbal sparring to all forms of sexperimentation. Luce is right. It’s not over.

  Lizzie notices me as I get close, and her brown eyes light up. Those juicy-pink lips widening into a smile I wanna taste all over again.

  “Jax! Hey!”

  “Hey yourself,” I say, surprising myself with how good I sound again in Lizzie’s presence. “You on your lunch break?”

  “Yeah. Oh, this is James. The guy I told you about.”

  “Hello,” he says, and I unstick my eyes from Lizzie’s perfect cheekbones to see where the voice came from.

  I wish I could describe to you how James looks. I wish I could tell you what his distinguishing features are. The thing is, I’m looking at him, and I still can’t remember what he looks like. The best I can do is ‘he’s a dude.’

  That’s right. James is vanilla. The kind of indistinguishable, white-bread, shops-at-the-Gap, two-drink-limit, all-around nice guy that the world is full of. The guy has ‘boring dinner parties and spitting out babies’ written all over him. He looks like his idea of getting adventurous is finishing a bottle of wine in one evening. He looks like the kind of guy who’s too bland to even be an extra in the dullest film of all time. Sitting next to Lizzie isn’t doing him any favors either.

  One look at him makes me feel like I’m not just taking Lizzie ‘cause I want her so bad, I’m gonna take Lizzie ‘cause this guy is nowhere near good enough for her. It’s like giving a race car to a retiree. I’m gonna fucking save her.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say, contradicting everything I just thought. “Lizzie’s told me a lot about you.”

  “All good I hope,” he smiles, chuckling a little.

  “Surprisingly positive, yeah,” I say, wondering if Lizzie picks up the meaning.

  “How do you two know each other?” James asks, with all the naïve sincerity of a man who genuinely doesn’t realize that people as hot as me and Lizzie always know each other pretty fucking intimately.

  “Uh…” Lizzie starts, cranking her gears and going red as she searches for something acceptable to say that isn’t a total lie.

  “I’m an architect,” I say, saving her anxious stammers. “I’m helping Lizzie organize a venue for an event.”

  “Oh!” James says, and for a second I can see why Lizzie likes him. This guy wears his emotions on his sleeve. It’s pretty easy when your emotional range is as clean and narrow as a nun’s. “That sounds interesting.”

  “Yeah. Jax is really helping me out,” Lizzie says, relieved.

  “Well, I wish I could stick around, but I should get back to work. I guess I’ll leave you guys to conduct your business,” James says, standing up. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Jax.”

  He shakes my hand, and then I see something that horrifies me more than baggy jeans. He leans towards Lizzie, and kisses her. On the lips. In front of me. I even see her eyes close in that way she does when she’s experiencing little pleasures. For a second it stirs something deep inside of me. A violent urge that’s been buried in man since he first came out of the trees. I wanna land a fist on his face. Kissing my girl, right in front of me?

  Shit. Except Lizzie’s not my girl.

  Not yet, anyway.

  James leaves and I try to wipe the sight of what I just saw out of my mind by checking out Lizzie’s long legs once again. I sit down in his seat. Lizzie’s watching him leave, so I wait for her to turn her head back to me.

  When he turns the corner, Lizzie’s head spins back like it’s spring loaded, her face twists into an expression of panic and fear, and she gasps her words desperately.

  “Please Jax! I need your help!”

  I guess things aren’t as bad as I thought.

  Chapter 4

  Lizzie

  “What’s the problem?” Jax says as he brings the waitress over (she’s been staring at him since he turned up anyway). “Can I order a juice, or do I need something stronger?”

  “He’ll take an orange juice,” I say to the waitress, eager to get rid of her so we can talk.

  Yes, I’m about to ask Jax for advice on how I can keep James. Yes, I know asking Jax for relationship advice is like asking a tiger for anger management lessons. Yes, I know that asking for advice about a guy you met a few days ago seems a little premature.

  But here’s the thing: I really like James, and I can’t shake the feeling that a guy as nice as him is way out of my league. Sooner or later I’m going to screw it up – I’m sure of that – but I’m hoping for the kind of screw-up I can apologize for with a nice card, not the kind that makes you avoid entire parts of the city in case you bump into someone.

  “The problem is,” I say, after stammering and stuttering for a while, “You were right.”

  Jax adds a raised eyebrow to his easygoing smirk.

  I go on, “James really does have expectations.”

  “What kind of expectations?”

  “Well…he broke up with his last girlfriend because she cheated on him. So he’s really cautious. He keeps talking about settling down, and long-term goals, and all of this stuff. I don’t know, I just feel really out of my depth. It’s nowhere near as easy as it was with…”

  “With me?” Jax says, and I almost feel like he enjoys saying the words.

  “Yeah,” I say, lowering my head and hiding behind the cover of my dangling hair. “But it’s not supposed to be easy with him, is it? Because this is serious. Not like with you. I mean that’s why it was so easy, because it didn’t mean anything.” I sigh. “But this does.”

  Jax just stares at me, and I wonder if I’ve misspoken. I blunder onward.

  “Is this weird? You don’t mind me asking you this kind of stuff, do you? See, this is what I mean. I don’t have any idea what to do in these…complex social situations. I start panicking, and if I don’t bite my lip, I start rambling, and when I start rambling, I just dig myself in deeper, and then I just—”

  “Relax,” Jax says, in his hypnotizingly deep voice. “It’s totally cool. We’re friends. Friends who just happen to have fucked each other in extremely awesome, extremely satisfying ways – but still just friends. If I can help you out, I’ll do it.”

  Jax laughs a little at my squirming, and I can’t help laughing back. I guess Jax really is cool being friends after everything we did. Despite the fact that I keep second-guessing things. But if you think about it, it makes sense. Jax screws women like he’s trying to break a record. While most men wou
ld probably crumble after a week of as much fucking as Jax does, he just seems to want more. I guess to maintain that kind of carnal appetite you’ve got to be pretty good at detaching yourself.

  The thought that there could have been something more between me and Jax had crossed my mind many times. The sex between us was on another level. It was easy to start feeling something for a guy when he’s so good at making you feel like that.

  But Jax didn’t get that way by being monogamous. That feeling starts and ends in the bedroom for him. I’d have more luck taming wild lions than Jax – and probably less chance of getting hurt, too. Seeing him now, as cool, calm, and collected as ever, despite the fact that I’m asking him about a new boyfriend, makes me realize I made the right choice. Go me.

  “Thanks, I really appreciate it,” I say. “You’re a life saver. I just…I really can’t afford to mess this up.”

  Jax takes off his sunglasses and my heart skips a beat for a second. His eyes are like optical illusions; you could lose hours searching for a secret message in them. I’ve cracked ‘the Jax code’ already, though. It pretty much leads to the hottest sex of your life, and not much else.

  “Wasn’t the whole point of our ‘arrangement’,” Jax says, “that you would be able to keep a guy when you met one you liked?”

  I nod. “Yeah, that was the plan.”

  “So how’s it working out so far? I’m sure you’ve done at least one thing right.” His playful tone takes the harsh out of the words, but what he’s implying is actually false.

  “Well, we haven’t actually had sex yet,” I admit.

  The waitress brings Jax’s orange juice but he’s giving me such an amazed expression he doesn’t even seem to notice.

  “Hasn’t it been like, almost a week?”

  “Five days. I know, it seems longer. I thought so too. But James isn’t like that. He’s sweet. He’s the kind of guy who waits for the right moment. And I guess it hasn’t happened yet.”

  “Right,” Jax says, not hiding the fact he’s unconvinced.

  “I mean, I just got out of a relationship that I was in for my entire adult life. I really don’t know about these things. I’ve never even really dated before. I have no idea what to do. What I’m supposed to do. What I’m not supposed to do. That’s why I’m asking you.”

  I give him my best puppy-dog eyes, and he laughs.

  “Ok,” he says, taking a sip of juice, “so he’s sweet. He likes the ‘special moments,’ he works in a hospital, coaches little league.” Jax pauses, thinking hard.

  “Right. So?”

  He shrugs. “So he’s pretty much the opposite of me.”

  I take a few seconds to mull it over, then nod. “Yeah. He kinda is.”

  Jax opens his arms wide and shrugs, like the answer’s obvious. “So just do the opposite of what you did with me.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say, after struggling a little while to make sense of what he’s saying.

  Jax leans forward and moves the salt and pepper shakers to the side, like he’s about to draw a diagram on the table.

  “I like sexy women, right? I like women who look good, dress well. Women who smell good and talk fast. I like confident, smart women. Women who aren’t afraid of who they are. Women who can put up a fight for what they think – and keep up with me in bed. If James is the opposite of me, then you should be the opposite of that.”

  I’m still wearing a confused expression. “Which is?”

  “Well, look at how you’re dressed,” Jax says, leaning back and gesturing to the skirt I bought specifically for this lunch date with James, “that skirt is my kind of skirt. You’re showing those beautiful legs off like you’re looking for a guy like me to wrap them around. I see that skirt and my mind starts thinking about the soft skin on the inside of your thighs. You think James is thinking the same thing when he sees that?”

  Tentatively I say, “No?”

  “No. James sees a skirt like that and thinks ‘is that the kind of skirt the potential mother of my children should be wearing?’” He changes his attention to the other half of me. “Now look at that top.”

  “This is just a plain white tank top!” I shoot bank indignantly.

  “Which is very nice and acceptable on most women, but no offense, Lizzie, you wear a top like that and you look like you look like you’re showing off. I can see how firm your breasts are. I can almost taste them through that top, and that waistline is giving me high blood pressure. It’s too much.”

  I look down at my clothes, pulling and stretching at my top, trying to cover up.

  “You really think so?”

  Jax nods. “The problem is that you’re too sexy for your own good. Now that’s great for a guy like me, but with a guy like James, that’s a problem.”

  “Well how should I dress?” I say, sighing with defeat.

  “Think about what you wanna project. James is looking for a woman who’s going to settle down and have kids. If you wanna let him know that you’re that kind of girl, you’ve got to dress like it.”

  “You’re saying I should dress like a soccer mom?”

  Jax gives me that shrug again, the one that says ‘of course.’

  “Ok, yoga pants and hoodies it is,” I say, conceding Jax’s point. After all, that’s what I was wearing the first time I met James at the grocery store, and look where we are now. It makes perfect sense. “What about the other stuff? I mean, how should I act? What should I talk about? Should I try not to be funny?”

  “Funny’s no good for James,” Jax says, taking another sip of juice. “Funny is the opposite of serious. And you’re looking to get serious with this guy, right?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Don’t be funny then. Every time you make a joke about something, it shows that you don’t take it seriously. You want to show you’ve got a sense of humor? Laugh at all his jokes, but don’t crack your own.”

  “That kinda makes sense. But what should I be talking about then?”

  Jax muses a little, smirks his smirk, and scratches at his stubble.

  “There’s one thing about guys that every woman should know.” He leans forward, and I find myself leaning in, too.

  “What is it?” I say, in a whisper. It really feels like Jax is giving me all the secrets of the male sex, and I feel like I should be taking notes.

  Jax squirms a little like he’s considering whether he should really be divulging these military secrets, then he fixes those eyes on me again and forges ahead.

  “Guys…like to get straight to the point.”

  I wait for more, and when it doesn’t come I ask: “Uh. Is that it?”

  “It sounds simple, right? But it’s not. As obvious as it is, most women don’t seem to know it. Look. What do you think I meet women for?”

  “Sex.”

  “Yeah. And I like women who don’t mess around. The chase is fun, sure, but when it comes down to it, a woman as single-minded and direct as me is irresistible. Now ask yourself: What does a guy like James want?”

  I look up as I think about the question. “I guess he wants a sweet girl. Someone nice to spend time with.”

  Jax squints at me and tilts his head. “Maybe.”

  I try again. “A girl who’s reliable, loyal?”

  He nods. “Closer.”

  And then I get it. “A girl who’s good marriage material?”

  “Bingo!”

  I nod too, warming up to the idea. “Kids. A woman to build a family with.”

  “Ding ding ding. That’s the jackpot.”

  After a second I realize what Jax is saying. “Wait, you’re saying I should have a kid with James?”

  He laughs, and if I wasn’t so focused, I’d be lost in the way his face lights up.

  “Lizzie. No. I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt if he thinks you’re as ready as he is. Let him know that you’re ready for all the things he wants. Talk about how many kids you want. About how you’re looking for the white picket-fence with a
freshly-mown lawn. About how you want to meet his mother and cook him pot roasts every Sunday. All the stuff a guy like him dreams about.”

  I stare at my mineral water for about a minute, chewing over what Jax is saying. It’s hard to argue with it.

  “You know, this is all pretty logical. I’m not sure if I can really do it, though. I mean, it seems dishonest. I’m not sure it’s…me.”

  Jax nods sagely. “Well, that’s what they call a mismatch. But if you want the guy, you’ve got to take on his ambitions too. You have to speak his language.”

  I spend another few seconds staring at my mineral water before my phone beeps. Picking it up, I see a message from my boss.

  “Shit. I’m overdue at work. Hey, James is coming over to my place for dinner tonight. Would you mind if I text you? Just to ask for advice and stuff. ‘Emotional support,’ you know? You can be my coach,” I laugh, awkwardly.

  “You’ve got my number.”

  I pick up my bag and make to leave.

  “I think you’re right,” I say with an appreciative smile, just before stepping away. “Thanks, Jax.”

  “I just want what’s best for you.”

  It’s nearly seven by the time I find clothes that fit Jax’s description in my wardrobe and don’t look like ratty old gym clothes. After realizing that I don’t own any skirts past knee-length, and no jeans that don’t hug my ass, I settle on a loose pair of slacks that my mother bought me two years ago, and that I’m way too polite to throw away. They make me look like I just lost twenty pounds and haven’t been clothes shopping since, but they definitely look more ‘soccer mom’ than anything else I’ve got. The top is easy, a loose cardigan that I’ve only really worn around the apartment when the AC gets too high. There’s no way James will be noticing my breasts in this thing.

  I take one last look in the mirror: I’m definitely not sexy, but I definitely look like I’ve got kids. Perfect.