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Insatiable 2 (Insatiable #2)

By:J.D. Hawkins

need time to think it over?"

My face drops for a split-second. I mean, I know James is the settling type, but I was not expecting this conversation to happen so-

"I mean, for dinner," James continues.

"Oh!" I say, with a little too much relief. "Anything is good. Surprise me."

"See you then, McFly."

"Bye, Arnie."

I told James that Back to the Future was the first movie that I ever … you know what? Forget it.

I spend the next twenty minutes reliving the sparky conversation we had last night while pretending to do work. I laugh again at James' jokes, and feel pleased with the easy-going and happy side of me that seems to come out when I'm around him.

I could easily have done that for the entire work day, but then I get a text message.

It's Jax.

If you ever need to be fucked onto a whole new level, I can still scratch that itch.

My blushing cheeks turn from rosy pink into a flustered red. If thinking about James makes my heart warm, thinking about Jax makes me warm in a place that's a little lower. Just seeing his name come up on my phone makes me breathe a little shorter, and brings a tingling sensation up my thighs.




For the past week, Jax has been making me feel more like a woman than I've ever felt in my life. He's fucked me more ways than I even knew existed, and given me highs that felt so good I didn't think I'd ever come down.

It wasn't just the sex – though the sex alone would have been a life-changing experience – it was him. Feeling desired, being appreciated, and making me understand what I really am – a sexy, confident woman who can call the shots and doesn't need to take any shit.

The fast car, amazing house, and expensive lingerie also helped – I won't lie.

If anything, Jax was too good. I started seeing him as someone dependable, someone loyal. Someone who I could date.

Jax is most definitely not the guy you want to date.

He's a player. The kind of guy who barely finishes having sex with one girl before he's planning his moves on the next. He can't walk down a busy street without bumping into at least a few of his previous 'conquests.' Everything about him screams 'best ride of your life,' and like most dangerous rides, you get hurt if you go on them too often.

I'm lucky I realized it when I did. I was about two more fuck sessions and one more bar conversation away from feeling something deep for him. Scratch that, I already kind of feel something for him. I just need to make sure that it's friendly, rather than romantic.

Meeting James has made that easier. He couldn't have come along at a better time. He's sweet, funny, kind. He's not too confident that he doesn't like me, but he's confident enough that I can feel good around him. He ticks all the 'good boyfriend' boxes, and unless he turns out to be a serial killer, I think he just might be the right guy. The one who I could have a real relationship with.

Basically, he's the kind of guy I could introduce to my mom. Jax, on the other hand, is so one-track minded I would be afraid to introduce him to any female in the vicinity.

No. James is my best chance for something good, stable, and loving in my life. As much as I need to squeeze my thighs together when I think about what Jax can offer me, I'm looking for the real deal – not something that'll be over as soon as our clothes are back on again.

"Elizabeth?"

I look up at the sound of my name. It's Linda.

"That meeting with the boss I mentioned?"

"Yeah?"

"It's happening now. He wants to see you."

I stand up.

"What's it about?"

"I think he's going to tell you to stop smiling because it's ruining morale."

I laugh and make my way over to the large corner office.

Wesley Warner is called a lot of things by a lot of people. Number one on that list is Jekyll and Hyde. He's one of those huge guys with such a laid-back air about him, and such a warm and frequent habit of laughing, that he just feels good to be around. Get on his bad side, however, and it's like he gets even bigger. He can make his voice feel like a weapon. So loud that people on other floors get the earthquake supplies out.

It doesn't happen often – the last time he got pissed at someone was a year ago – but it was legendary enough to make everybody still tiptoe around him a little. Put it this way, nobody forgets his birthday. Not even the cleaning ladies.

"Lizzie!" he says warmly as I enter. Opening arms so long it's like looking at the wingspan of an airplane. "Take a seat."

"Hi, Mr. Warner."

Warner stands up as I sit down, and he walks over to the large window. He gazes a little down at the street below before he starts talking.

"You're an interesting worker, Lizzie."

Interesting? This is not what I was expecting. "Am I?"

Warner nods, sees my confused expression, then laughs. I have to admit, it is a nice laugh. I chuckle back.

"Oh, don't be so nervous! I know your type. You don't see the point in the usual round of emails and documents and all that junk. You get bored easily. You struggle to find meaning in your routine."

Oh God, had he noticed my sexting with Jax? Or my cutesy phone calls with James? Or the way my eyes tend to glaze over after 3 PM? "That's really not-"

Warner hushes me by raising a palm you could play tennis with.

"You're a creative type," he says, pointing at me. "You need a little freedom to flourish. You need a project of your own to really show what you can do. Isn't that right?"

I nod slightly. "Actually … yeah, I suppose."

"Well," he says, taking his seat again, "I've got just the thing. It's pretty important, but it's also quite simple. Are you interested?"

"Of course!"

"Good!" he says, smiling proudly, like I'm a daughter who just told him I love fishing. "We're organizing a big charity event – an extremely worthy cause, and I'll forward the details to you. The thing we're missing, how

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