The Mighty Storm (The Storm #1)

I push my lips together, scrunching my brow. “So that’s why I’m doing the bio?”

“Partly,” he half-smiles. “But mainly because you are a fan-fucking-tastic writer.”

“Good save.” I smile and lean close to him, kissing him gently on his lips.

He grabs my face, keeping me there. “Don’t ever leave me, Tru. I can’t lose you again.” There’s a quiet desperation in his voice. It makes my insides tremble.

“You won’t ever lose me. I promise.”

I’ll always be in Jake’s life, one way or another. I know that for sure.

His kiss deepens to intense, his tongue invading my mouth, crashing with mine, pulling me further into him.

We are all lips, hot tangled emotions and sensation.

The way he holds me, kisses me, it’s with such a wretched need, an intensity of the likes I’ve never felt before. It’s blindsiding. And I feel like I’m getting a glimpse of what I may mean to him.

After a while, Jake slows his kiss down, and moves his lips from mine, chasing kisses down my neck. He pulls me close to his chest, holding me tight.

“Jonny would have loved you,” he murmurs, stroking his fingers down my spine.

“You think?” I tilt my head back to look at him.

“Definitely.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “I’d talked to him about you in the beginning quite a lot, so he kind of already knew you fairly well.” He looks at me shy.

I like the look.

I smile at the thought of Jake talking to Jonny about me. I wish I had gotten the chance to know Jonny. He seemed like such an awesome guy in his interviews, and he was incredibly important to Jake.

“I’d have had a fight on my hands with him for you though. You were just his type.”

“I was?”

“Yep, exotic, smart … beautiful.”

Exotic?

“Charmer.”

“Damn straight.”

“Jonny was gorgeous...” I grin.

“Hey!” he chastises, slapping my behind through the covers.

“But not as gorgeous as you, of course!” I squeal.

“That’s more like it.”

I like that he’s talking about Jonny with me, with such ease now, and no sadness.

He presses his forehead against mine and closes his eyes. I bask in his contentment, feeling it like it’s my own, as I breathe him in.

“Who was your first girlfriend?” I ask, tracing my finger over the tattoo on his chest.

I know he never had one back in the UK. So she was definitely an American.

I hate that I don’t know this stuff about him.

“Aside from you?”

“I was never your girlfriend.”

“You should have been.” He opens his eyes and stares into mine. I’m surprised at the intensity of his gaze. “But to answer your question, little Miss Interviewer,” he grins, moving back. “I’ve never had one.”

“You’ve never had a girlfriend?”

“Nope. Never.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not shitting you. I’m being completely serious.” His eyes are steady on mine.

“Sorry, I just find it a little hard to believe – Jake Wethers has never had a girlfriend – what about all the models and actresses?”

“And did you see any pictures of me with them for any longer than a week?”

I rake through my memories, cringing at the images that flash through my mind of Jake with other women.

I shake my head, no.

Wanting to change the subject, I say, “Okay, seeing as though I’m in interviewer mode, I want to ask – if you, Jake Wethers, had to pick one song as your title song to describe yourself, what would it be – and it can’t be one of your own,” I quickly add.

“Hurt,” he answers without hesitation.

It makes me hurt inside he picked that song.

“Why?”

He lets out a light sigh. “Some people said Reznor was writing a lyrical suicide note, others said he was writing about finding a reason to live. I think it’s both … it just depends on which side you’re looking at it from.”

“And which side are you looking at it from?”

He stares at me from a long moment. My heart is hammering in my chest.

“Now? … a reason to live.”

My insides start to tremble.

“Reznor’s version or Johnny Cash’s?” I ask quietly, trying to conceal the pain from my voice.

“Johnny Cash.”

“Why?”

He closes his eyes briefly. And in this moment I just want to magic up all the power in the world to soothe his pains away.

“Because I have a few things in common with him,” he answers, opening his eyes.

“Like?”

“The drugs … the women … hanging out for the girl of my dreams.”

I take a sharp breath in. Tears instantly prick the backs of my eyes.

He touches my face, his thumb smoothing over my lips. “You’re my June, Tru.”

Holy shit.

“Except I can’t sing,” I say trying to make light of the moment.

“Well, yeah there is that, but you can play a mean tune on the piano.”

I tilt my head to the side, forcing a smile I don’t really feel.

“So what’s yours?” he asks.

“Oh, without a doubt, I Can’t Get No Satisfaction.” I push the smile into grin trying to take us back to moments ago.

“Do I detect a hint of sarcasm there, Bennett?”

“Mmm,” I press my lips together.

“Well, I’ll just have to see what I can do about that.” Then he’s flipping me over onto my back and kissing my neck.

“Jake?” I say after a moment.

“Hmm,” he murmurs, running his tongue over my skin.

“Why have you never settled with anyone for longer than a week?”

He lifts his head and stares down at me with such an intensity it makes my insides ache.

“Because I was waiting for you.” He tucks my hair behind my ear and kisses me gently on the lips.

“I just wondered if it was because of your past … you know – your dad?” I ask tentatively. “Why you’re afraid to have a relationship.”

I feel him stiffen under my hands, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.

“I’m not afraid of having a relationship.” He sits up abruptly leaving me cold. “I’m trying to have a relationship with you, but you seem to be having a pretty fuckin’ hard time letting go of your current one. You asked before if I’ve ever had a girlfriend – no. But you don’t ask if I want one. Because I do – you. I want you in my life all the time. I want to be able to go out with you in public and tell everyone that you’re my girl, without hiding here in these fuckin’ hotel rooms, while you decide if you want me or him.”

Whoa! What the hell?! How did we get here?

“I’ve told you I want to be with you.”

“But you haven’t told Will, and therein lies the problem, Tru. Because really, I don’t think you do know what you want.”

“I do.”

I sit up and take his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “I want you. I want to be with you.”

And in this moment I mean those words. I do want Jake. But I know I love Will too, and honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to feel when I see him again.

The truth is, being here with Jake, like this, it’s easy because I just feel so far away from Will. Far away from my life with him.

Like him and I was a different lifetime ago.

But when he steps back into it … I guess I just don’t know.

Still, no matter how I feel, I will do the right thing. I will tell Will about me and Jake. I just have to find the right moment.

I move my mouth close to Jake’s, but instead of kissing his lips, I dip my head and kiss the scar on his chin, pressing my lips gently to it.

He sharps in a breath.

I run my tongue over his rough stubble, upwards, until my mouth finds his.

He grabs a hand full of my hair, holding me to him.

“You’re mine, Tru. I’m not sharing you with him anymore.”

“I’m yours,” I murmur into his mouth.

I just feel so utterly intoxicated by him, and in this moment I am his, completely.

Jake pushes me back onto the bed, grabs a condom from the nightstand and has it on in moments.

He slides himself inside me, no hesitation. I groan as I feel him fill me completely, like only he can.

He kisses me hard on the mouth, and then rolls onto his back taking me with him, putting me on top.

I start to move slowly, up and down, my hands placed on his toned stomach.

“Fuck, Tru,” he groans, his fingers digging into my hips, as he lifts his, meeting me, pushing himself deeper inside.

“I want to,” I breathe, meeting his eyes, biting down on my lip.

Jake has me on my back again, in one swift move, taking my breath with it.

And then things get urgent and heated, and hard.

I’m hips up, meeting his thrusts, hands splayed on his back, fingers digging into his muscle, gripping him, while Jake fucks me like I want him to.

“Oh God, Jake,” I moan. “Harder. I want it harder.”

“You’ll tell him about us tomorrow.” He slams into me, his teeth gritted. He’s not asking.

“I’ll tell him.” I’d say anything right now if it means he’ll keep doing this with me – to me.

“I won’t share you anymore,” he repeats, as he continues driving into me over and over again. “You belong to me.”

“Yes,” I cry out.

When we find our release together, Jake holds me tight to him, his face buried in my neck. Almost like it’s the last time he’s going to hold me.

And I lay here, confused, trembling on the inside from the intensity of it all. Of the intensity of his feelings for me.

I hadn’t realised they were so deep. Or that Jake was quite so possessive.

Chapter Sixteen

I wake to the sound of knocking on my hotel door. A glance at the clock tells me it’s 9.15am.

I wonder who the hell that is?

Jake is wrapped around me like a sheet. I disentangle myself from him. He groans and rolls over in his sleep.

I pull my robe on and pad my way toward the main door. I peer through the peep hole, and my heart stops in my chest.

It’s Will.

Will is standing outside my door, and Simone is with him, and Jake is in my bed – holy fuck!

Holy fucking fuckety shit!

For a moment, I literally don’t know what to do.

Then Will knocks at the door again. A little louder this time.

I take a couple of quiet steps back, then turning I run into the bedroom.

“Jake,” I whisper, shaking him. “Wake up.”

He blinks open heavy eyes.

“Will is here, outside the door! Here now!” I hiss.

He blinks again as my words register. Then very slowly, he sits up.

He doesn’t look panicked in the least. Me, I’m absolutely shitting myself, but Jake seems quiet leisurely about it.

“You’ve have to hide.” I pull on his arm, glancing around the room, my eye catching sight of the bathroom door.