Chapter 8

 

Lizzie

 

Before I met Jax, the sexiest thing that would happen to me would be a raunchy dream. Before I met Jax, the wildest thing I ever did was go to college one day without wearing panties. Before I met Jax, the most adventurous I ever got was shaving my pubic hair into the shape of a love-heart for Brody (who, of course, didn’t notice).

Now, I’m slipping on lingerie slowly in the bathroom mirror, breathlessly anticipating the moment Jax will see it. Now my body is constantly tingling, filled with new sensations, ready to be rocked at any second. Now I’m getting dressed up to go out and meet him. My second night out in a row – a personal record. And I know there’s going to be a lot more of them over the next week.

I always knew that guys like Jax existed – in the same way I know guys with toupees exist, but I’d never really met a guy like Jax. In the few days I’ve known him he’s eaten my pussy, fucked me in his pool, and fingered me in the dressing room of a lingerie shop – and it still feels like he’s still just getting started. I’ve learnt more about what my body’s capable of in these past few days than in years of sex ed.

Brody was predictable. That’s what made me love him, and that’s the same reason I ended up hating him. Jax, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. I know I’d never be safe with Jax. I’d never be able to guess what he’s going to do next. I’d never not be on my toes with Jax. And that’s why he’s exactly what I need right now.

After years of Brody’s jackhammer routine in the bedroom, Jax feels like a revelation. It’s like discovering Santa Claus isn’t real, developing breasts, and learning how to ride a bike all at once.

I’m going to be honest – I’m a little scared. Not just because I’ve gone from Disney cartoon innocence to cheek-blushing debauchery in the space of a few days. Not just because I feel like I’m entering a whole new world of sexual decadence, with Jax as the rippling-muscled, sharp-suited guru. Not just because Jax is the kind of guy who seems to push things further each and every time I let him.

I’m scared at how much I like it.

I’m scared of myself. Of what’s happening to me. Of finding out how every pore in my body, every neuron in my head, is responding to this like I’ve been waiting for it all my life. I’m scared that Jax might not actually be teaching me anything – but instead just showing me what I never knew about myself, but was already there.

I slide on a red dress it usually takes me a couple of drinks to decide to wear, and start putting on make-up. Once again, I’m surprised by the woman in the mirror. By the way she stands, so effortlessly elegant, angling her body to put her curves front and center; a body made for fucking. If I ever felt this good about myself before, I was probably too drunk to notice.

The taxi driver who takes me to the bar looks at me so frequently in the rearview mirror I’m worried we’ll crash. I arrive at the bar just as night’s about to fall, and in the dark, neon-lit street I step out confidently, imagining myself as some glamorous movie star. With the amount of heads that turn in the direction of my bare legs and pert cleavage, it’s not hard.

Even if I wasn’t there to meet him, I’d still notice Jax. Something about him draws the eye. He’s standing by the bar in that casually dominant manner of his; one hand around his drink, one hand in his pocket. Three of the most attractive women in the bar are standing around him in various poses of fake-bashfulness.

I notice how almost the whole club’s attention is on Jax. Guys have their seats angled to study how he’s keeping these women in rapt attention, and women are glancing over, waiting for the chance to push aside the pretenders and grab an audience with the charming, most-handsome guy in the bar.

For a split-second, I think about turning around and walking out. I don’t much like the idea of pushing in on the trio of girls. I know their type; the kind that would ‘accidentally’ spill a drink on you if they wanted you out of the picture. The kind of women who can threaten with all the venom of a gangster when they detect you’re interested in a guy they’ve marked for themselves.

Just before I spin on my four-inch heels, however, Jax sees me. I have no idea how, when the banshees have surrounded him so expertly, blocking his field of vision. If you told me Jax had a kind of x-ray, radar, heat-seeking, smell-o-vision when it came to women, though, I could easily believe it.

He flashes some dimples, makes some expert excuses, and somehow frees himself from the trailing arms and cooing pleas of the sirens, then walks over to me. The women follow him with their eyes, and land death-ray glares on me. I think about winking at them, but I don’t need to – the battle’s already been won.

“Hey Lizzie,” Jax says, leaning over. He bypasses my cheek and instead presses his lips to the sensitive skin right behind my ear. I suppress a shiver. I’ve already seen him naked, but the way his suit hugs tightly, giving hints of those Greek God-like muscles, makes it very easy to imagine myself tearing it apart like the wrapping paper on a long-waited birthday present.

“Hey yourself,” I say, following his hand towards a booth at the back.

We settle into the booth, and with a gesture even I can barely notice, Jax manages to conjure a waiter to the table.

“A double malt for me; neat,” he says, before pointing towards me, “and a gin and tonic with a twist, right?”

“No,” I say, with a sly grin, “I’m trying to switch it up. I’ll have a cosmopolitan.”

“Well look who’s full of surprises tonight,” he teases. “You’re the perfect pupil. I can hardly wait to see what else you have in store.”

We smile at each other for a few moments.

“Sorry to break up your little party over there,” I say, gesturing to the three women, who are now doing their best to pretend they’re not looking.

“I don’t think they’re too happy about it. They’ve been trying to get me drunk for the past thirty minutes.”

“Well, I hope it was worth it.”

“You’re always worth it,” Jax says, and I laugh at how easily he can get away with saying things that would sound stupid coming out of the mouths of most guys.

The drinks come, and we clink our glasses before sipping; our eyes still locked.

“So why did you invite me here?” I ask, disguising my smile behind my glass.

Jax shakes his head with an easy shrug. “Just to…talk.”

“Talk? That would be a first.”

“Talk always comes first. Well… not always.”

I run a hand through my hair, and take another sip, letting the booze warm me up and help my muscles settle into the soft leather seat.

Jax snaps his fingers. “Oh, you know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“That guy. Your boyfriend… Gary?”

“Brody. And not my boyfriend. Not anymore.”

“Why is that, again?”

I put my drink down and gaze around the room, trying to think of an answer. I get a heavy feeling in my gut, as if my drink has been spiked with rocks, and a nagging thought at the back of my mind like I forgot to take the laundry out of the machine. I haven’t really thought about my break-up much at all – and Jax has been very good about not letting me remember it. Now that he’s put me on the spot, though, I feel like a lot of dirt is bubbling to the surface.

“We got together about eight years ago—”

Jax makes a surprised face when I say the number, no doubt because his relationships last closer to eight hours than eight years.

“—yeah, I know, it’s a long time. We were kids. He was cute, funny, hard-working. He treated me well, had a car. I was shy, quiet. Innocent. When we got together it felt like the best thing that ever happened to me. It was romantic. He swept me away. It was like a movie. Blah blah blah etcetera.” I take a decidedly unladylike slurp of my drink.

“And? What happened?” Jax asks.

“I thought the movie was about us. That I was the lead actress. Turns out it was about him, and I was just a background extra.”

Jax thumbs his glass and stretches an arm around the back of his chair.

“They don’t write good roles for women anymore.”

“I don’t know about that,” I say, shooting him a look as dirty as the thoughts he’s stirring in me, “you do a pretty good job of putting me front and center.”

“You gave a great audition,” Jax says, smiling mischievously.

I laugh. He has a way of ending everything he says in a way that makes it seem like a prelude to the most erotic kiss you’ve ever had.

“Anyway, his career took off, and I followed him here to LA about six months ago. Since then, it’s been a three-way relationship between me, him, and his work. Though definitely not in that order. I got a job, and I guess it was just a case of waiting for the inevitable to happen.”

“Inevitable?”

“Kids, mortgage, retirement—”

Jax raises his hand. “Stop. You’re boring me. Actually, no, you’re depressing me.”

“You find me talking about that depressing? You should try living it.”

We laugh a little, and Jax gestures for the waiter to bring us another round of drinks. I didn’t even notice how much I was drinking. Being near Jax just makes me want to bring something to my lips. A smile, a drink, his—

“I still don’t know what you do,” Jax asks.

“Do you care?”

“Not really,” he says, crossing his leg, heel over knee. Letting me see how lithe and sporty his body is. I’m catching on to his game, but that doesn’t mean it’s not working.

“I work for a PR firm. And if I say anything more than that, I might just bore both of us into a coma.”

Jax’s eyes sparkle a little. He nods his chin at me. “You’re pretty funny for a girl who’s so hot.”

“You’re pretty hot for a guy who’s so rich,” I reply.

Somehow, I find it easy playing off Jax’s conversation. He’s sharp as flint, and I’m tough as stone. Just like those elements, when we put ourselves together, it seems like sparks fly.

The drinks come and I lean forward over mine. “Are you really an architect? Or is that just a line?”

Jax laughs so loudly the bar turns towards us. For the first time I’m conscious of how commanding his voice is.

“When I was ten my parents took me on a trip around Europe. I remember the richness of the food. I remember the music of the languages. Most of all, I remember the way everything looked beautiful. The magnificence of the Chateau Pierrefonds; the colors of El Capricho de Gaudi; the Basilica de la Sagrada. The way the Alnwick castle makes everyone inside it feel like a king; the way the Sistine Chapel makes you feel like you’re in the presence of God; the way the Eiffel Tower makes it seem like you’re up amongst the stars. I didn’t need to take photos, it was all burned into my memory. The smells, the sounds, the atmosphere.”

His eyes light up as he talks, just like they did the other night when he talked about his work. The architecture means so much to him, gets him so revved up, that the passion is contagious, and I find myself leaning forward to drink up everything he’s saying. Brody never got like this about his job, or about anything else. But Jax? He’s all about what he does. It’s a total turn-on.

“I became an architect right then,” Jax went on. “I went from Lego, to graph paper, to university scholarships and awards. We didn’t have much money growing up, and my family didn’t have any connections. But I had talent and determination. Enough to break down the obstacles. Enough to drag me, and anyone who shared my vision to where I am now.”

“And where are you now?” I say, hanging on every word.

“I’m one of the best architects in the world, and I’ve only just gotten started.”

I blush, smile, and look away. I can see the fearsomeness in his eyes. Feel the depths of his conviction in his words. It’s daunting, scary. I feel like I’m about to get crushed by it all.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Jax laughs, and his face breaks back into the warm charm I’m more accustomed to.

“You’re surprised that I’m for real, right?” he says, enjoying my speechlessness. “You thought I was just a dumb guy who hits on chicks. What was it you called me… ‘manwhore?’”

He laughs again. No hard feelings. Not that kind anyway.

“I just figured you were so good at it, that it must be your full-time job.”

Jax smiles, and I see something light up in the deepness of his eyes.

“It’s never my full-time thing,” he says, downing the last of his drink and sending out his nonchalant gesture that brings the bartender over in seconds once again. To my surprise he orders us club sodas with lime this round.

“What’s with the virgin beverages?” I tease. “I thought you were a professional.”

“Oh, I am.” He leans forward with a hungry gaze. “But I intend to keep you up all night long, and I’d hate for you to miss a single second of it.”

I cross my legs tightly under the table and look away from the pointed lust in his gaze.

We talk for hours. Flirting and probing each other like dancers in perfect sync. Jax talks like he fucks, hitting every note with perfect timing. He knows how to make me laugh, knows how to make me blush, and knows how to make me feel good. He’s more intoxicating than the drinks we’ve downed, and I let him carry me away once again into his world, where sex and power swirl around like angels and demons.

It’s Jax who calls it, just like he calls everything. He glances at his watch just before midnight, gestures for the bill and says: “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Drive me home? Jax has been working me up to the point I’d orgasm if I uncross my legs. I’m two drinks away from grabbing his perfectly chosen suit, pinning him to the ground, and sitting on his delicious face. And he wants to drive me home now?

For the first time in my life, I feel empathy for the millions of guys getting brushed-off around the world tonight, and I wish I’d gone for another cosmo to combat my sinking mood. What happened to all night long? It’s definitely not gonna work at my shoebox of an apartment with all its nosy neighbors and paper thin walls, and he knows this. So what gives?

I wait for his move all the way outside. Wait for him to throw me over the low hood of his black Ferrari Testarossa and pound me with all the coiled power of his tight butt muscles. Instead, he opens the passenger door like a gentleman and smiles as I climb inside. A moment later, he slides behind the wheel next to me and it’s all I can do to keep my hands to myself as the sexual tension pours off his tight muscled body, just inches away.

We start making our way through the streets of LA, and I wait for him to unbuckle my belt, pull me over towards him, and let me straddle him like the greatest rodeo rider this side of Texas. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the road and one hand on my thigh, where it rests in between his intermittent gear shifts, radiating heat through my entire body.

If this is a trick to get me squirming with anticipation, it’s working. I’m feeling so desperate I rub my thighs together like tinder sticks trying to ignite a fire. I know he’s not drunk, the way he switched us to soda after the first two rounds. The burning within me is so distracting that I barely notice him take a detour off Mulholland. I’m still glancing at him suspiciously as he guides his sleek, leather-filled car into a secluded spot, overlooking the twinkling lights of the LA skyline.

“Where are we?” I ask, cautiously.

Jax kills the engine, and with a slow, deliberate gesture, moves his right hand to the back of my headrest. He looks at me with eyes that make me feel like I’m falling backwards into a well. When he speaks, the words come slowly, firmly. Like powerful drums hypnotizing me into his lustful rhythm.

“I have been hard for you since the moment I watched your ass settle into that booth. I think you’re about ready to be taught. You want to know how to fuck? You got to know how to give head.”

I gaze into his eyes for what feels like an hour, then reach over to his fly. He grabs my hand, and pushes me back.

“No. This is all me right now. You got to make it all you. Tell me what you want.”

I realize my mouth is dry and I swallow. “I want your cock.”

Jax nods, then raises his eyebrows like he’s expecting more.

“I want that big… beautiful… cock. I want to taste you. I want to feel how hard you are.”

Jax adjusts his seat until he’s lying almost horizontal, and I read the cue like we’ve choreographed it beforehand. I unbuckle, lean over, and unbutton his fly. I was just talking before, but when I release his rock hard dick from his underwear it really is big, it really is beautiful – I really do want to taste it. I work slowly, gently, sliding his boxer briefs down, revealing the devastatingly beautiful line of his hip muscles.

“Real slowly,” Jax says, in a tone both soft and strong, “lick me from the balls to the tip.”

I don’t hesitate, I’m as hot as he is. I press my tongue against his skin and feel the hotness of his flesh.

“Look me in the eye as you do it.”

I raise my gaze and lock eyes with him. They’re cold, hard, focused. I should be learning right now, but it’s hard to think when you’re giving head to the sexiest man you’ve ever met.

“Good,” Jax says, as I roll my tongue down his cock once again on the other side. “Now use your lips. Kiss my balls, my shaft, work it up slowly.”

I proceed to do exactly as he instructs.

When my kiss rolls onto the top of his cock, I take the initiative, and brush my lips softly against his tip, tasting the precum welling up there. Jax’s head thumps back against the headrest, and when he looks back at me I smile as I suck gently over the head of his dick.

“That’s right,” he says. “That’s really fucking right.”

I start working my head, rolling my tongue in and around the curves.

“Smack it gently against your tongue. Yeah. Good. Now take me in your mouth. Make me feel how hot and wet it is. Taste how close I’m getting. Suck it faster. Harder. More.”

I feel Jax’s hand bury itself in my hair. Guiding my movements.

“Stay in control. That’s it. Don’t let up.”

I may be giving head, but I’m the one in control. Having Jax inside my mouth I can feel every wave of pleasure, every little flutter that brings him closer to the climax. Our eyes lock again, but this time mine are the ones that are cold and commanding, his are wide and out of control. I smile sweetly, give his dick one more long, glorious suck as I pop it out of my mouth, and then place my face below it. With one hand on his balls, and the other jerking him over the edge, I watch as his mouth opens and he lets out a helpless groan as he comes across my cheek and down my neck.

I roll the taste of him around my lips. It should feel messy, disgusting, embarrassing, but somehow I feel glorious.

As I roll back into my seat and clean myself off with a tissue, Jax readjusts himself slowly in the driver side, slowly catching his breath.

He finally turns to me with a look of incredulous pride. “You sure you’ve only been with one guy?”

I adjust his rear view mirror so that I can touch-up my lipstick. “I’m a fast learner,” I reply. “And I liked doing it.”

It’s the truth. All that power, all that control, and just knowing I could do that to a man—I could get used to this. And the best part is, this is only the beginning.