That’s always been my problem.
Chapter 6
Lizzie
“It’s amazing!” I shout to Jax as he walks towards me.
Ever since I saw the building as I took the turn-off and drove up the winding path towards it, I’ve been feeling a giddy excitement. It has lines straight out of a sci-fi movie, and blends in so well with the surrounding hills it seems almost organic. Large window panels cover the almost castle-like forms that curve and jut from the main building, making you wonder how amazing the view would be from inside. I was almost positive I’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in an Orson Welles movie¸ but when I see Jax’s tall, trim frame wave from the entrance and start walking over, I immediately get excited again.
“You like it?” he says, calmly.
“I love it! I mean, wow! It’s so much bigger than it seemed from the photographs.”
“Yeah,” Jax says, looking back at the building as if he’s trying to see it through my eyes. “It’s pretty much done now.”
“It looked great in the images, but in person it’s just…breathtaking.”
Jax turns his eyes back on me. Something in his gaze seems different, distant, and I notice that he’s talking a little slower, a little quieter, than usual.
“Most things are better in person,” he says, with his typically wry smirk, though he’s almost mumbling. “Let me give you the tour.”
“Lead the way.”
I follow Jax up the stairs to the large entrance, and as soon as I get close I can’t help running my fingers across the curves and textures of the doorframe.
“Makes you wanna touch it, right?” Jax says.
“It’s so…different, but still inviting.”
“That’s the idea,” Jax says, as he pushes open the door and gestures me into a gigantic open space.
It feels like it’s a mile wide, and a half-mile deep. The ceiling rises way up to the second floor, which has a balcony running across the entire room. It’s just an entrance hall, but it’s almost like an open-plan apartment.
Over to the right there’s raised flooring with what look like wooden panels; low, Japanese-style furniture in earthy browns arranged upon it. Over in another corner there’s a sunken floor, where bold primary colors and all kinds of fabrics make a cozy kind of ‘nest’ around the bookshelves.
“So I think this would be where the main attendees would centralize,” Jax says formally, not noticing that my jaw is somewhere on the textured floor.
“It’s huge! Even from the outside it doesn’t look this big! It’s like a Tardis!”
Jax shoots me a knitted brow and a sideways glance. “What’s a Tardis?”
“Dr. Who?”
Jax shakes his head.
“Ok, I get it,” I say, “you’re too cool for the reference. The point is, it’s great! The guests are totally going to love it! This could even be like free advertising for you. Not that you need it. But seriously, Jax. Wow.”
“It’s supposed to be open, but still feel separate when you’re in each area,” Jax says, focusing on the business at hand. “If you want we can move the furniture out, maybe put in something a bit more functional?”
“No. It’ll work fine. Our guests are looking for something different. They’re getting kinda bored of the ‘stand-up-and-look-proper’ deal.”
Jax nods. For some reason this feels like a business meeting, rather than a meeting with a friend. But I’m probably reading too much into things. Judging by the bags under his eyes, it looks like he’s had a rough night. A twinge of jealousy snakes through me, but I shove it away. It’s none of my business how Jax spends his nights now.
“Are you having a band come in?” he continues. “What kind of dining?”
“Yeah...Uh…How about putting the band over there? Where’s the kitchen?”
Jax walks towards one end of the entrance and pushes through some doors.
“Here it is, it should be able to cope. If you know your chef, maybe he can forward Luce any requirements, or come check it out himself.”
“Luce?” There’s that flash of jealousy again, as unreasonable as it is.
“Oh, my business partner. She’s usually around here, but I guess she’s not right now. You can usually hear her before you see her.”
I nod, reminding myself to chill out. “Cool.”
I stand there looking at Jax for a few seconds while he looks right back. There’s always an energy between us, always some tension, but this time it’s a little different. A little weird.
Jax seems brooding; there’s an intensity coming off of him that’s dark. He’s still as magnetic as ever, but this time I feel like he’s holding something back. Something that would devour me if he let it loose. Being around him always feels like orbiting a star - you get drawn into his orbit. Now it feels almost scary.
“I’ll show you the grounds,” Jax says suddenly, obviously breaking off from his train of thought to get back to business.
I follow him through a few more doors until we reach the amazing grounds. The gigantic pool, stunning terrace, and gorgeous view are more breathtaking than the front - but I’m still finding Jax so weird right now that it’s getting hard to focus. Every time he glances my way, I can almost feel him about to say something, ask me something—but then he falls silent again, or rambles more about the architecture. It’s driving me crazy, but I don’t want to start anything if I’m just imagining it. Maybe he really did just have a rough night.
“What do you think?” Jax asks, stepping aside so I can take in the almost fantasy vista that faces the building.
“I think it’s perfect,” I say, stepping onto the soft grass and spinning my head around to take it all in. “I think you’re one of the most talented people I’ve ever met for designing this. And I think the people attending will be just as impressed.”
I look at Jax, but he’s too busy staring out over the view. There’s no point in denying it any more. Something’s up. The Jax I know is always present, always aware, always in the moment; responding to his surroundings like he knows what’s going to happen before it even has. Acting instantly, as if he’s so sure of himself he doesn’t even need to think, and can let his animal instincts take over.
But that’s not the Jax that I’m looking at right now. This Jax in front of me is anything but present. He’s talking shop coolly, but I can feel the heat of his intensity burning inside of him. It’s definitely new, and - if I’m being totally honest - extremely sexy. My entire body is on edge, sharply tuned to the tense vibe radiating off him. Waiting. But for what?
“We’ll need a stage here, is that ok?” I say. Now it’s me who’s trying to keep my mind focused on work.
“Sure. Isn’t the band going to be inside, though?” he asks.
“Yeah, but we’re having a kind of auction event to raise the money. The centerpiece is a date with an A-list Hollywood actor.”
“Sounds like fun. Anyone I’d know?”
“You ever see that movie about the Iraq vet who comes back to the US looking for a woman who he had a photo of?”
Jax scratches his chin as he thinks.
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“How about the one where this couple with a newborn live next door to a frat house?”
Jax shakes his head.
“You don’t really watch movies, do you?”
Jax chuckles. “To be honest with you, not really.”
I flash him the warmest smile I can.
“Plenty of other things you’d rather be doing, right?” I say, hoping to tease another laugh out of him, and break that impenetrable shell he’s been wearing all day.
“Like giving live dating advice, you mean?”
I giggle. “Yeah. Well, you’re pretty good at it. I mean, I haven’t really been on many dates, but I can’t really imagine it going any better than it has with James.”
“That’s…awesome,” Jax says, although there’s a split second between the words, as if he�
�s not quite sure what word to use. “You think it’s going to work out?”
Jax looks at me with eyes so hot I feel like they’re burning my clothes off. Is that all this is? Sexual tension? Of course it is. I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner. Don’t rub your knees together Lizzie - Jax knows really damn well what that means, I tell myself.
“I don’t know if it will,” I say - though that’s only because Jax wasn’t projecting so much animal nitrate in my direction. It’s difficult to talk to Jax about another guy when Jax is so close you can smell his cologne. “Maybe?” is all I can manage.
“I guess you’re fighting a lot of habits you picked up with me,” Jax says, his wry smirk looking particularly insinuating - and hot.
I smile, glad that he’s opening up, but feeling kinda cautious. I really hope Jax isn’t being weird because of me and James. It’s kinda hard to believe, and I try to throw the thought aside - you’d have to be pretty naive to think Jax would get jealous - and pretty arrogant to think he’d get jealous over me.
“Sex isn’t everything, you know.”
Jax gives a little laugh and looks at his feet. When he looks up at me again his eyes scare me and thrill me, like being caught in a spotlight. I notice the wind blow through his hair gently, and pin his shirt his shirt around his chest, as if it wants to grab and pull at his body as much as I do right now. Stop it, Lizzie. Think of James. So I do. The problem is, it’s not helping.
“You’re right,” he says, his voice sounding almost dreamlike, “it’s not everything. But it’s a pretty good substitute.”
My attention turns from Jax’s body to his face. I think I can almost see a sense of regret coming over his expression - but then again, there are people who claim to have seen UFOs, which is somewhat more likely.
“I should…probably…” I stutter, trying to find words that’ll lead me through this weird combination of lust, unspoken emotions, and the very real need to get back to my office and report to my boss before he leaves.
“Yeah,” Jax says, picking up my vibe.
No hand on the back to urge me forward. No smart quip to sign off the conversation. No kiss goodbye. Sometimes it’s the things that people don’t do that stand out most.
It’s the first time I’ve been to James’ house, and while it’s not quite like the home Jax designed, neither is anything else. If I had to guess what kind of house James had, I probably would have gotten most of it right. Family pictures on almost every surface. Sports gear in the hallway. Neutral colors, tasteful but understated furniture. Neat, but lived-in. James is a lot of things, but surprising is not one of them.
Dinner was a steak with potatoes and greens. Just the kind of hearty, down-to-earth food Jax told me to cook for James, and which he’s told me he likes so much. Conversation went from future plans, to funny stories about goofs we made when we were children, and back to our present lives. All in all it’s been your typical, all-American, romantic - but ‘nice’ - date.
For the past two minutes, though, we’ve been looking at each other in silence. I’ve been sipping my red wine slowly, softly, and sensuously. James has been watching me with a growing energy in his eyes. We both know we can’t keep talking about safe neighborhoods all night - it’s time for a little overdue action.
“I’ll take these plates into the kitchen,” James says, putting a little bass into his voice, “why don’t you go and make yourself comfortable.”
“I’m definitely ready to get comfortable,” I say, heavy on the innuendo.
I flash back to the mini-disaster at the end of our last date, and I wonder if James still feels the need to discuss the boundaries of our physical intimacy before we get going (and why wouldn’t he? He’s a doctor, after all. It’s sweet of him to be so respectful of me, and not take advantage. Although if he did want to take advantage, I certainly wouldn’t mind…). What was that he said last time, about the level of contact? Couldn’t I just verbally check ‘All of the above,’ and let him figure out the rest? But no. We have to do this his way, just like Jax said.
I smile my most mischievous smile, and get up as James gathers the plates and makes his way back to the kitchen. This is it.
My body has felt like it was vibrating since the moment I met James. A buzz has been running up and down my limbs since we bumped into each other at that grocery store and immediately went for coffee. At the time I thought it was the excitement of meeting someone new, filled with potential. When I still felt like that on our second date I thought it was a sign that James was the real deal. Now that I’m sitting here though, the shaky feeling that flows down all the sensitive parts of my body is getting even sharper, and I realize exactly what it is.
I haven’t been laid since I stopped my ‘arrangement’ with Jax - and now I’m experiencing some severe withdrawal symptoms.
It didn’t help that I saw Jax today, with his all-new dark horse thing going on. Adding thoughtful eyebrows and handsome nobility to his repertoire of moves that make me wanna rip his pants open and swallow his cock whole. We spent barely ten minutes together and for once, I’m glad our meeting was short. If I had stayed a few seconds longer, muscle memory would have kicked in and I’d have pinned him to the ground with all the ferocity of a football player on the eighteen-yard line.
Now it’s James’ turn to show me what he can do, and if he’s even half as good as Jax, I’m about to be a very happy woman.
I make my way to the living room, consider for a second whether I should go to the bedroom, then think better of it. It might be too forward - and sex on the couch is fine with me. Jax taught me that.
With my legs slanted so that my simple, knee-length skirt rides up just enough to tease, I undo a couple of buttons on my oversized blouse, and fall back into the couch in my best impression of a seductive teacher.
James enters the room and stops when he sees the invitation in my eyes. I pat a spot on the couch beside me, and he smiles as he walks over, the nerves visible in his shuffling steps.
“Why do I feel like I’m about to get eaten alive?” he chuckles as he sits down and I run my hands across his back.
“Because you’ve got a good idea of what’s about to happen,” I purr, softly.
James chuckles again, still in his ‘playful flirt’ mode. I’m two steps ahead of him, and begging him to catch up.
“I just want you to know that I’m very comfortable. With you. With all of you.” I stare meaningfully into his eyes, then down at his crotch, and then back up into his eyes. I hope he gets my point, but just in case he isn’t, I take a risk and go direct. “What I’m saying is, I’m ready to take things to the next level. You don’t need to ask my permission.”
“Uh…okay…” he says, looking for something in the silence. “That’s good.”
“Shh,” I say, putting my hands on his face and guiding it to mine.
James’ lips barely brush against mine before he pulls back a little and says, “I must admit, this is kind of a new side to you.”
I press my lips against his, eager to taste the wetness of his mouth, the hardness of his breath. James holds back, his lips too closed for my tongue to taste him, his breath too careful for me to feel it. It just makes me want him more.
We kiss softly. I figure he wants to ease into it slowly, and I try to tease him by sucking his lips. When I clasp his bottom lip in my teeth James jerks back like it hurt him.
“S-sorry,” he says, when he realizes it was deliberate. “Took me by surprise, that’s all.”
I smile, and we go back to our gentle kisses. I press my hands against his chest, seeking out the firm definition of his pecs. For the first time I feel James’ hand, gently pressed against my hip. I grab it and hold it against my breast, urging him to hold me, caress me, knead me like butter in his big palms.
Instead, James’ hand lies on my chest like a carefully placed paperweight.
I start getting anxious, desperate. I need his body inside me. I need to feel his lust, his desire, h
is masculinity. I pull his head closer to my face strongly, and stick my tongue down his throat, urging him to grab me, giving him full permission to ravage me.
James gulps and stutters for air like he just swallowed a fly, almost coughing into my mouth. As he slips back, his hand shifts and catches on the middle of my blouse, bringing his fingers into contact with my cleavage. Our eyes lock, and his hand freezes. Then he pulls it back like he just touched a hot stove.
“Whoa! Um…I didn’t mean to… Ah…you know…”
“But I’m ready,” I say, trying not to sound petulant. “I’m…comfortable.”
I bite my lip. Am I doing this all wrong? It feels so…different than the times I’ve been with Jax.
“I know, it’s just…” he shakes his head, a blush creeping into his cheeks.
“Is something wrong?” I ask. It’s a genuine question, but it comes out sounding like an accusation.
“No!” James shouts, a little too eagerly. “No. You’re really so…” He makes a weird face like he’s surprised and nods towards my exposed cleavage. “You’re gorgeous. Wow! I’m totally down for...that. I just want to…I respect you, you know? I really like you, and I don’t want to just, turn this into a thing that’s…you know, meaningless.”
My fingers are already buttoning up my blouse, pulling down my skirt, straightening my hair.
“Right,” I say.
“You get that, don’t you?”
“Sure, sure,” I say, as convincingly as an Oscar winner. “Look, it’s really fine.”
James smiles. Usually I find it sweet, but I’m so far from sweet right now it just annoys the fuck out of me. It feels like a cold bucket of water being poured over my head.
James stutters a little longer before saying what he really wants to say.
“Maybe we should call it a night. Give ourselves some time. What do you say?”
“I think that’s a good idea,” I say, standing up and letting James lead me into the hallway.
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