Fire in the Belly

Authors Note:

Dear Reader,

I strongly recommend reading my story Fire in the Belly (first part) before this second instalment, to gain necessary context.

If you enjoy the story, I will be delighted to hear about it. Constructive criticism is also welcome.

Cheers,

Caerwyn

***

"I do appreciate atmosphere," Jill commented happily, glancing around the restaurant from the booth she was sharing with her companion, Matthew Quinn.

She saw: walls clad in seaweed green finger tile, laid in diagonal crisscross; dark wooden chairs, simple, light, strong, their limbs delicately curved, their deeply padded seats covered with gleaming chestnut leather; heavy circular tables to match; jungle plants lending an exotic air; golden light streaming from globular fittings hanging like heavy fruit. The patrons, quietly conversing, occasionally smiling and laughing, gave an impression of ease and contentment.

Having evaluated her surroundings, Jill returned her gaze to Matthew... and shook her head in wonderment at the thought of the seismic shift her life had undergone since meeting him.

Within less than twenty-four hours after their first encounter, his status in her eyes had been transformed from enemy hostage to the one true love of her life, for whom she felt affection and devotion -- and lust -- far beyond her fiercest dreams.

Right now, though, the centre of her personal universe seemed ill at ease.

"We shouldn't be here," Matthew said tensely.

"At least, I shouldn't," he added.

"Do you like Spanish culture?" she asked. "Spanish people?"

Matthew frowned at the cheerful irrelevance of her question... then, trying for her sake to put aside his concern, smiled and shrugged.

"Well, apart from anything else, flamenco has got to be one of the most captivating human inventions I know of," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"Have you heard how young Spanish men and women are supposed to be exceptionally passionate?" she asked.

"Certainly," Matthew said, "though I'm wary of stereotypes."

Jill shrugged.

"So am I," she said. "Still, I hesitate to strip them away entirely. Whether Spaniards are more passionate than average is neither here nor there. For me, it's enough to enjoy the romance of the idea."

Matthew considered her answer, and was obscurely pleased. He found it typical of Jill's nimble approach to the complexity of human existence.

"Sounds good to me," he said.

He looked at her quizzically.

"Not that I'm objecting, but why are we suddenly discussing the ins and outs of young Spanish men and women?"

Jill chuckled, causing Matthew to blush a little.

"Ah... I mean, why are we suddenly talking about Spanish culture?"

"Because I don't want to keep calling you 'Mister Matthew Quinn' for the rest of my life - seems a bit formal after all the rumpy pumpy we've been enjoying together - and Spanish endearments have an exotic flavour that pleases me."

Matthew raised his eyebrows enquiringly.

"They do?" he said. "I don't know much about Spanish endearments."

"Let's try some out," Jill said. "See which ones make your pupils dilate."

For no apparent reason, Jill covered her eyes briefly. When she revealed them, her expression smouldered with such intense sexuality that Matthew blushed and quivered in response.

"Oops," Jill said. "Too strong. We already have maximum dilation."

She toned it down somewhat, then gazed carefully into his eyes.

"Mi cariño," she said, experimentally. "Mi amor... mi corazon... mi alma."

"I don't know what you're saying," Matthew said, "but I like it."

"Judging from your reaction, I think any of them will do," Jill said.

She resumed smouldering.

"Kiss me, mi amor," she husked theatrically.

Whether she was play-acting or not, Matthew felt strongly motivated to accept her offer.

Smiling, he rose from his seat and leaned over the table. Jill laughed quietly, then followed suit. Their lips met and played for a long, happy moment.

When she sat back, Jill's face was flushed and her breathing accelerated.

"We'd... probably better not go any further right now," she said quietly. "It's been hours since we last fucked, and I can definitely feel my inner mink heating up."

She shook her head incredulously.

"Unbelievable how susceptible I am to you."

"Which brings me back to my former point," Matthew said. "This is potentially a dangerous place for me to be... dangerous to other people, I mean. I really shouldn't be here."

Jill shook her head in disagreement.

"I know you don't mind the solitary life, mi amor, but since you aren't alone any more, we're going to have to find a balance between complete isolation, and some semblance of a healthy interaction regime with humanity at large," she said. "If you can think of a better way of doing that than experimentation, let me know."

Matthew shrugged uneasily.

"As you wish, Miss Jill. I just hope I don't infect anyone."

Jill nodded, a little too casually for Matthew's liking, then took another look around the restaurant.

She frowned suddenly.

"That's odd," she said. "But to be expected, I suppose."

"What's that?" Matthew queried.

Jill indicated the restaurant clientele with a sweep of her arm.

"The men here," she said.

Matthew looked, and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"What about them?" he asked.

"I'm used to checking out the talent in any human gathering, mi amor," she said, "but here, I might as well be checking out different brands of yoghurt in the supermarket, for all the effect they're having on my libido."

She gave an amused pout.

"Another odd effect of getting intimate with Matthew Quinn, it seems... a girl completely loses interest in every other guy."

"Oh," Matthew said. "Uh... I don't know whether I should apologise, or feel relieved."

Jill raised a reproving finger. "What have I told you?"

Matthew chuckled. "I know, I know: don't apologise for things I have no control over."

"Even so," Jill confirmed. "And as for feeling relieved... were you afraid I might stray?"

Matthew thought a moment, then shook his head.

"Even if I hadn't... uh... enchanted you," he said, "I don't think I'd ever have had reason to be jealous as your partner: you strike me as the fiercely loyal type."

Jill smiled.

"You'll never know," she said, ambiguously.

Matthew's brow wrinkled... then he smiled.

"There's a lot to unpack in that simple statement," he observed. "I'll have to think about it some time."

A thought occurred to him.

"Uh... just out of interest..." he said, then hesitated.

"Mmm?" Jill queried.

Matthew cast a glance around the restaurant, seemed about to speak, then apparently thought better of it.

Jill looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled. "Ah. You're wondering how I feel about the women."

Matthew hesitated, then nodded self-consciously.

"Forgive me for asking such a personal question," he said.

Jill spluttered with laughter.

"You're kidding, right?" she said.

She cast another glance around at the diners.

"Huh... no special reaction," she said, then smiled. "If you're thinking you'd like to be double-teamed, though... there are one or two here whose company I could probably enjoy short-term... for your sake."

Matthew rushed to correct her apparent misapprehension.

"Uh... no, I wasn't... uh... I didn't mean... uh..."

Jill laughed.

"Relax, mi amor," she said. "I was teasing."

Matthew quickly changed the subject.

"Uh... you ready to eat, Jill?"

Jill nodded enthusiastically.

"What's on the menu?" she asked.

Matthew scanned the list of main courses. It was unusually long.

"A lot, apparently," he said. "Any particular preferences?"

"I'm primarily carnivorous by predilection," she said.

Matthew reviewed the menu and listed a number of dishes that suited this criterion.

"No roast Quinn on offer?" she queried hopefully, when he was done.

Matthew chuckled, pretended to study the list for the desired item, then shook his head ruefully.

Jill pouted.

"What the hell kind of restaurant is this, anyway?" she complained.

"The kind that doesn't cater to cannibals, it seems," Matthew replied, with a touch of sardonic humour. "Imagine that."

"That's probably almost everyone, if you think about it," Jill said. "They're ignoring the desires of a huge market."

"Almost everyone's a cannibal?" Matthew asked.

Jill grinned, and nodded.

"I think almost everyone's got at least some inclination to munch on human flesh at some point in their life, yes."

"Ah... what makes you think so?"

Jill looked at him.

"Haven't you ever noticed the connection between fucking and feeding, for example?" she asked.

"I'm... ah... not sure I know what you mean."

"I mean, when you're getting intimate with someone, and you feel the sudden urge to sink your teeth into them. Never had that?"

"I... ah... can't say I've ever had that particular experience, no."

Jill raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I already knew you'd never gotten laid before you met me, but... haven't you ever even made out with another person before?"

"Uh... nothing much to speak of in that area, either," he said, slightly shamefaced.

He hesitated, then said, "The truth is, Jill, no one's ever really strongly caught my attention in that way... until you."

Jill looked at him.

"Selective type, huh?"

Matthew awarded her a warm smile.

"Guess I was waiting for the right woman to come along."

Jill smiled sunnily in return, and sketched a curtsy.

Matthew would happily have elaborated on the theme of his newfound love for the woman opposite him, but he was forestalled by Jill's renewed interest in the evening meal.

"The lamb you mentioned sounds appetising," she said.

"Ah... I thought the

frutti di mare

looked interesting," Matthew said.

Jill frowned and shook her head.

"No seafood for me."

Matthew considered this.

"Allergies?" he asked.

Jill drew herself up in mock outrage.

"This body is among the most robust on the planet, I'll have you know."

"Well, it's certainly among the most lovely," Matthew said gallantly.

Jill waved her hand dismissively.

"Not my doing," she said offhandedly. "Accident of birth."

Matthew stored this information for future reference. He might have expected that Jill would be proud of her actual achievements, rather than her physical attributes. Still, though he loved her for everything he knew about her, not just her body, he could be quietly grateful for the fact that she had to be one of the most beautiful women in the world. He was a man of flesh, blood, and hormones, after all.

"So, then, why no seafood?" he asked.

Jill shrugged.

"I just don't feel like contributing to the global marine holocaust today... or any other day, really... you can compliment me for that, if you like."

Her gaze became momentarily distant.

"One of these days, I may decide to do something about that whole mess. Then the world will find out that even a single human molecule can make a big difference... if she's a catalyst."

"It would certainly make a difference to me," Matthew said, "when she's the molecule I adore."

Jill chuckled at this small witticism.

"As well as my incredibly sexy bedmate," he added, in an unusual burst of boldness, "who's forced me to redefine some very important elements of my vocabulary."

"You interest me," Jill said. "Which words are you referring to here?"

"Uh... pleasure... love... org... uh... climax..." Matthew said, blushing slightly. "There'll be quite a long list."

"I... don't think I've ever heard such an unusual compliment before," Jill said.

"And it's not only words," Matthew said, "but feelings as well."

Jill smiled, clearly enjoying the theme they were exploring.

"What feelings?"

Matthew tried his best to speak without inhibition, feeling that this would please her.

"The ones I get when you're... ah... working on me... and I'm watching you... working on me..."

Matthew glanced at her mouth, then down at himself. Jill followed his gaze until her line of sight was cut off, then found herself clearly visualising what was hidden by the table and his garments.

"The feelings are... well, words really can't do them justice," Matthew said.

Unexpectedly, Jill blushed.

"Careful," she warned. "You might want to keep references to your... maleness... for when we're safely out of public view. Since I fell under your influence, they get me kinda wet... especially after you've kissed me alight."

Matthew blushed in his turn. He was still in the early stages of getting acclimated to Jill's forthrightness of speech. Borne hence on a rush of mingled excitement and embarrassment, he suddenly found it beyond his power to hold his tongue.

"And since I fell under

your

influence," he said, "comments like

that

make me get... uh... kinda hard for you."

Jill turned a deeper shade of scarlet, and squirmed in her seat.

"Even worse!" she said. "Keep going like that and I'll need you to do me right here in the restaurant."

Matthew couldn't help picturing that scenario, and his body responded accordingly.

"Now I

am

hard for you," he blurted.

Jill groaned.

"Cut it the fuck out!" she hissed. "Change the subject, or we'll both end up getting arrested for being too human in public."

Fortunately, they were distracted at that moment by the arrival of their waitress, a deliciously pert young thing whose modestly-cut uniform only encouraged the admirer's imagination to work harder. At the sight of her, Matthew lost all facial expression, sat quiet and reserved, kept his eyes carefully to himself.

"Good evening, ma'am. Good evening, sir," she said brightly, then smiled warmly. "Lovely to have you both with us. Ready to order?"

"I'll have the lamb rogan josh... and an absolute mountain of fresh greens," Jill said, then took the opportunity to tease Matthew a little, as a light-hearted piece of revenge for his sexual goading, intentional or not. "And the gentleman wants... what was it, dear... a whole, roasted, teenage chicken, basted in her own juices?"

She threw a meaningful glance at the waitress, who stared at Jill uncomprehending for a moment, then blushed as she understood. She quickly shifted her gaze to Matthew... but this did nothing to calm her emotions. For reasons she couldn't fathom, the sight of him affected her like two quick shots of whiskey. He seemed veritably to glow with masculine beauty... and sexuality.

"A-and you, sir?"

"Ah... I'll take the duck, thanks," Matthew muttered, keeping his gaze on the menu.

He provided no further detail, but the waitress took a quick look at where his finger was resting on the menu and noted his choice.

Without understanding why, the young woman found herself taking far more than a professional interest in him. She experienced that moment everyone has at least once in their life, when they realise they're about to say something extremely embarrassing, and find themselves helpless to hold it back. She struggled internally for a moment, then blurted, "Would you like anything else, sir? There's a wonderful champagne on the wine list: Chateau de Chatte Humide."

Jill couldn't repress a snort of hilarity.

Matthew, uncomprehending, fumbled for a response.

"Ah... is it sweet or dry?" he asked.

Jill burst into merry laughter.

The waitress blushed tomato-red, then turned quickly away and headed for the counter. Why she had suddenly chosen to trot out a taboo phrase she and her girlfriends from high school French class had cooked up years before, she had no idea. But, jeez, that guy was hot! She giggled, and fanned her face vigorously with her hand as she walked.

"Ah... we'll have that to go, miss," Jill called after her.

She watched the waitress surreptitiously for a minute, then turned to Matthew.

"I think you'd better wait in the van after all, mi amor," she told him. "Our young friend is having trouble keeping her eyes off you. She looks like she's about ready to start playing with herself."

Matthew cast a worried glance toward the waitress, rose from his seat, and quickly exited the restaurant.

The picture of unconcern, Jill sat back comfortably, spread her arms along the top of the booth seat and waited, smiling gently, for their order to arrive, watching the activities of diners and staff as if she were queen of all she surveyed.

***

To minimise contact with other people, Jill and Matthew had hired a medium-sized RV for the journey to succour her sister Amy. Now they drove to a beachfront vehicle park nearby, and sat eating slowly, side by side, with a view over moonlit waters. A ceiling light provided gentle illumination.

"What are we going to do?" Matthew asked, worriedly. "About the waitress, I mean."

He shook his head ruefully.

"It happened so quickly this time."

"Steady," Jill said. "I only sent you out as a precaution. Just because she got the hots for you doesn't necessarily mean you infected her. It could have been a normal pussy-flush."

"Ah... is that a thing?"

Jill nodded.

"As a barometer for sexual attraction, yes."

"But, what if she

is

infected?"

"I'd be very surprised... she was close to you for less than a minute. It took a lot longer for me to fall in the deep end."

"And as you told me," she added, "Amy didn't start horning for you for much longer than that."

"Don't forget, though, you were also feeling... hostile toward me," Matthew said. "That may have had an inhibitory effect."

Jill chuckled.

"I may have been mad at you, mi amor, but that didn't stop me noticing your manly beauty," she teased.

She shrugged.

"Still, maybe that is what kept me from falling at your feet on the spot... and I suppose Amy's intense focus on her studies, and her limited contact with you, could account for the fact that it took two weeks for her to succumb."

"Whatever the case," Matthew said, "I won't risk going into a restaurant again... or anywhere else where there might be a woman... until we understand better what's going on."

He thought for a moment.

"Uh... I've been wondering whether it has something do with smell."

"Seems possible," Jill said casually.

She didn't seem much inclined to pursue that line of thought... which Matthew found significant in its own right.

She placed a hand on his knee.

"Tell you what, cariño," she said. "After this business with Amy is sorted, I'll go back and check on her welfare, if you want."

Matthew nodded.

"I'd be grateful."

"Consider it done."

Easily putting the subject out of her mind, Jill returned her attention to her meal.

For a time, the only sounds to be heard were those of gentle waves beaching, and the quiet munching of delicious food.

When they were done eating, Matthew reached into a storage compartment by his seat, and surprised Jill pleasantly by producing two small, stemless, globular glasses, plus a little bottle of cognac.

"My hero!" she said appreciatively.

They sat in companionable silence for a while longer, slowly sipping. Jill noticed Matthew smiling a little from time to time.

"A groat for your ruminations, mi corazon," she said.

Matthew awarded her a warm glance.

"I was thinking about the day... I mean, the night you came into my life."

He smiled in happy reminiscence.

"Greatest day

of

my life," he murmured.

"No... that was the day after," Jill said. "I wasn't exactly behaving like the ideal lover, the night before."

Matthew shrugged.

"Nonetheless, that is when I started falling for you."

Jill raised her eyebrows.

"Write that one up in your journal with ink of pink," she said. "Nothing's more romantic than the future love of your life actually threatening that life, it seems."

"It'd make an excellent Valentine's Day tradition," Matthew responded with a smile, eliciting an appreciative chuckle from Jill.