Hot In Here. Susan Lyons
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all howling with laughter again.
Their waitress delivered dinner. “You gals are having way too much fun.”
Once they’d all taken a few bites of fish and the waitress had left them, Jenny turned to Rina. “What about you? Weren’t you going out on Saturday night?”
“With who?” Suzanne demanded.
“This guy named Al. His niece is one of my clarinet students and I’ve met him at a couple of recitals.”
“So how did it go?” Jenny asked. “Was he hot?”
“Uh…not exactly. Not like the firefighters. But he’s not bad.” She seesawed a hand. “I’m not sure what I think. It wasn’t instant chemistry, but we went to a movie and had coffee after, and it was nice.”
“No sex?” Jenny asked. “I thought the whole point was sex? You got so horny seeing the firefighters, you needed a guy of your own?”
“I’m not going to have sex with someone just to…scratch an itch,” Rina said tartly. “I need to feel, you know, really into him. Connected.”
Jenny picked up her wine glass and sipped as she thought about what Rina had said. With Scott, had she been scratching an itch? If so, it was one he’d created. And yeah, she’d definitely been into him.
“Are you seeing Al again?” Ann asked Rina.
“Next weekend.”
“Speaking of next weekend,” Suzanne said, “I’m taking Saturday off work at the clinic and flying down to San Francisco.”
“That’s great,” Ann said. “You’ll see Jaxon’s new apartment.”
“Find places to have sex in San Francisco,” Jenny added with a wink. “Think you guys can do it on the Golden Gate Bridge?” Suzanne and Jaxon were renowned for making out in public places.
Suzanne smiled, but it was halfhearted. “I’m nervous.”
“About screwing on the Golden Gate?” Jenny teased.
Suze rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot. He’s got all these plans for Saturday. I told you about how he and his friend coach basketball for underprivileged teens? Well, he wants me to come to the game.”
“And you hate basketball?” Jenny asked.
“No, I like it, and it’d be fun watching Jaxon with the kids. But I’d meet Rick, and he’s a double whammy. Jaxon’s oldest friend and the guy whose law firm he just joined.”
“He’ll love you.” Ann reached over to squeeze Suzanne’s hand.
“I hope. And that’s not even the worst. We’re going over to Jaxon’s mother’s for dinner.”
“Ooh, Suzie, this is sounding serious,” Jenny said.
“It was so much easier before we started down the love path. When it was just me and him and the Champagne Rules. Sex, and nothing else.”
“Easier but less rewarding,” Rina said. “The two of you have a chance at something special. It’s so romantic. Maybe you’ll build a life together.”
“Where?” Suzanne said. “San Francisco or here?” Then she clapped both hands to her temples. “Damn, I’m doing it again. Focusing on the problems, not all the great stuff.” She turned to Jenny. “So, how about you and Mr. February? What’s his name again?”
“Scott Jackman. And what about us?”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“You left the guy with a hard-on,” Ann teased. “Don’t you owe him something?”
Jenny spooned more potatoes from the second-helping bowl in the middle of the table. “I dunno. He never got my phone number.”
“You know where he works,” Ann said.
Yeah, point taken. A modern Western woman wouldn’t think twice about picking up the phone to call a guy she was interested in. Jenny toyed with her fork.
“The question is,” Suzanne said, “do you want to see him again? Or was it just a fun fling with Mr. February? So that, next year, when you look at the calendar, you can say to yourself—” She broke off.
“That guy’s been inside me?” Jenny finished. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I like him. So far all I’ve learned is that he looks great wet, and it’s like spontaneous combustion when we get together.”
“Sounds good to me,” Ann said.
“Yeah, but I can’t see it going anywhere. For me to connect with someone, I have to be able to talk to them.”
“How do you know he can’t talk?” Suzanne asked.
Jenny shrugged. “Firefighter? How many guys with brains go into a job like that?”
“You’re stereotyping,” Suzanne said.
Ann tapped a finger on the table. “True, but let’s face facts. How often d’you get physicality plus brains? Jen, here’s an idea.”
“Okay, tell me.”
“You always pick intellectual guys, but it sounds like the sex is better with Scott. Yes?”
“The orgasms are better. He’s hotter. I’m not sure he’s any more skilled.”
Ann shook her head impatiently. “He hasn’t had an opportunity to exhibit his skills. So what I’m suggesting is, give him that chance. See other guys for the conversation, but keep seeing Scott, too, and enjoy the sex. After all, it’s not like one person can ever meet all your needs.” She shot a quick glance at Suzanne. “Unless of course he’s the superhuman Jaxon.”
“That actually makes sense, Ann,” Jenny said. And it gave her a rationale for seeing Mr. February again.
“With Scott, it’s not just sex,” she said slowly, “it’s kind of about sexual fantasy. I mean, he was the hottest firefighter, the sexiest dancer. I wondered if I could seduce him.” She grinned. “I keep imagining him as my private dancer. In that costume, doing that sexy tap dance just for me.”
“Nice,” Ann said appreciatively.
“I have another fantasy, too,” Jenny confessed. “This is silly, but…”
“Spill,” Suzanne demanded.
“It’s a pure rescue me. I’m in a burning building, he comes rushing in wearing the full regalia and saves my life. He’s a hero. What can a gal do with a hero but strip off all that gear and give him a blow job?”
“What else indeed?” Suze said.
“So I’m right,” Ann said. “You don’t care if you and Scott ever have a real conversation, you just want to act out some fun fantasies?”
“Yeah, I guess. Figure he’d go for that?”
“What man in his right mind would turn down an offer like that?” Suze asked.
Of course her phone number wasn’t in the phone book. That’d be too easy. But Scott remembered Jenny saying her article was for the Georgia Straight.
Fresh from the shower, wearing jeans and no shirt, he lay back on his bed, picked up the phone and dialed the Straight.
When he asked for Jenny Yuen, a brisk female voice said, “Yuen, Yuen, let me see. No, she doesn’t work here, she’s a stringer. A freelancer.”
“Can I get her number?”
“It’s not our policy to give out phone numbers.”
Sensing she was about to hang up, he said, “Wait! She was interviewing me for a story she’s doing on,” he swallowed, hating to say the