The Mighty Storm (The Storm 1)

Jake’s – Jake. He’s a rock star and as hot as hell – smoking in fact.

But he’s also a womaniser. This is what he does.

I can’t lose my sense around him again. I can’t let myself become just another name in his long list of conquests.

I have too much to lose if I do.

I use the toilet, wash my hands, cool my face with the water, then with a clear straight head, I make my way back to our table in the VIP lounge.

Jake is already there sitting with the guys, and also the girl Tom has acquired for the night.

He looks up at my approach and the second my eyes meet with his, whatever sense I had just talked myself into, packs its bags and fucks off, leaving me to the mercy of my hormones.

The booth is full. Jake shuffles over, giving me a sliver of room to sit on, and also forcing me to sit next to him.

He puts his arm around the back of the seat, behind me. My thigh is pressed up tight against his.

“Alright?” he asks me quietly.

I nod, yes, briefly meeting his eye.

He passes me a fresh beer. My fingers touch his and a charge flies through my hand and up my arm.

“I thought we could have one more then head back to the hotel,” Jake says quietly to me.

“Ahum,” nodding, I take a mouthful of my beer.

He moves his hand down, and then I feel his thumb start to gently stroke the bare skin on my back.

It feels intimate. So totally intimate, and that’s because it is.

I chug harder on my beer.

In the irony right now wishing I was sober so I could think clearer in this situation, and how exactly to extract myself from it.

No, I’ll rephrase that – figure out how to want to extract myself from it.

My head and heart are not matching at the moment, and my hormones are raging a war all on their own.

Continuing to sip on my beer, I listen to the guys talk, but I really can’t focus. All I can focus on is Jake’s thumb, gently stroking that one small part of my body.

It’s like everything has homed in on this one small area. I’m heated. My skin is humming, buzzing under his touch.

I put my beer down on the table, and bind my hands together in my lap.

Focus. I just need to focus.

Then Jake put his hand under the table. He pushes his fingers in-between my palms, forcing my hands apart and takes hold of my hand.

Jake often holds my hand, that’s nothing new, but this time it’s different. There’s a different meaning there. Or was it there all the other times too?

I don’t know, but what I do know now, is that this feels like he’s staking a claim on me.

And I like the feeling. I want to be his.

He slides his fingers in-between mine, entwining our hands like lovers would, and rests our bound hands onto his hard thigh.

I could try to pretend his touch on my back was nothing. But not this.

I look across at him.

He stares back at me steadily, for a long moment before looking away, but I read his eyes clearly.

He wants me tonight.

And from what my eyes where saying back to him, I think I just said yes.

Chapter Thirteen

We finish up our drinks and leave the club, heading straight into the waiting cars.

I managed to untangle my hand from Jake’s on the way out of the club, so I make a quick dash for Ben’s waiting car, which Denny and Smith are just climbing into. Denny looks a little surprised to see me in their car, but he says nothing.

I could feel Jake’s eyes on me as I climbed into their car, leaving him with Tom and his girl for the night, but I don’t care. I just need to put some distance between us right now.

If I can just get to the hotel first and back to my room alone, then tonight will be without incident.

If not … then I really don’t know what will happen.

But even as I think it, I don’t really believe it. I know exactly what will happen.

If Jake wants me tonight, then me travelling back in a separate car will not make the least bit of difference. Because I want him too, and I don’t think I can find the will to say no.

When we reach the hotel, Ben pulls up first and I clamber out of the car. My feet are still bare and my shoes are in my hand along with my handbag.

I’m vaguely aware of the other car pulling up, but I’m too distracted by how cold this floor is outside the hotel.

“Jesus Christ! This floor is freakin’ freezing!” I cry out, hopping from one foot to the other on the tiled floor. The night air isn’t cold but it’s like there is air con blasting out across the tiles, deep freezing them.

Smith chuckles at me, as I start to tread on my tiptoes carefully across the frozen tiles. “You okay there girlie? You need a hand?” He holds his hand out for me take, but I don’t get a chance to respond, because the next thing I know Jake is scooping me up in his arms.

“Arggh! Put me down you idiot!”

Jake says nothing, and just strides through the door and into the hotel lobby with purpose, and me in his arms.

Everyone is staring at us and, Smith, Denny, Tom and his girl – whose name I still haven’t gotten, are all finding this highly amusing.

“You can put me down now,” I say, a little clearer and a little firmer, as we reach the carpeted floor in the hotel outside the lifts.

He stares straight into my eyes. “I know but I’m not going to. I start a job, I finish it.”

My heart takes a clear blast in my chest, and I gulp down.

The doors ping open and Jake strides into the lift with me still in his arms.

Not even waiting for the others he presses the button for our floor.

“We look silly like this,” I say quietly.

“And since when have you cared about how we look?”

What can I say to that?

And truth be told, I don’t want him to put me down, I like the feel of being in his arms.

Jake makes me feel like a girl. Like a woman. It’s not something Will’s ever truly managed to do. Not that Will’s not manly, of course he is, but Jake is in a whole other league. He’s alpha to the extreme.

And yes, I’m independent and strong, but sometimes … just sometimes, it’s nice to be taken care of. It’s nice to be made to feel like a lady.

The lift quickly reaches our floor; the top floor of course, and Jake exits, taking a left, heading toward my suite.

My suite is next to his, so I’m praying he just drops me at my door, and goes to his. Actually thinking on it, my suite’s always next to Jake’s whichever hotel we stay in. Hmm…

Okay, so the rational side of me is praying that Jake will just leave me outside my room – what small part of it there is left. But I know he won’t.

“Key,” he says stopping outside my door.

I rummage in my handbag, and pull my key card out. Reaching down, I put it into the slot and push the handle down, as Jake shoves my door open with his leg.

He carries me through the darkened living room of my suite, letting the door swing shut behind us. I drop my shoes to the floor and toss my handbag onto the sofa as he passes by it.

“Fuck!” he curses, walking into the coffee table.

“You okay,” I stifle a giggle.

“No,” he grumbles. “It hurts like a mother fucker.”

“I’ll rub it better for you.”

“Is that a promise?” His tone is serious. He’s staring down at me, his eyes impenetrable in the darkness of my suite.

Looking away, I say nothing.

We reach the bedroom and Jake gently deposits me down on the bed.

“Why thank you kind, sir,” I say putting on a really bad Southern accent like Smith’s, except his is actually cool. “Your work here is done.”

“Not yet, it’s not.” He pulls his boots off and climbs onto the bed, lying down beside me.

“Are you staying?” I ask, nervous.

“Of course I am. I’m not leaving my girl drunk and alone. You might be sick and choke on your own vomit.”

His girl? And also, worst excuse ever for climbing into my bed, Jake, seriously.

But then I’m not exactly fighting him out of here either.

“I’m not drunk,” I giggle. “And just trust me, I’ve taken care of myself in worse states than this.”

“Yeah? Well you shouldn’t have had to.”

What’s that supposed to mean? Was that a dig at Will?

He turns on his side and faces me in the darkness. “Do you want me to go?” he murmurs, and his voice suddenly sounds all deep and intense.

Shivers envelop me. My heart-rate increases, and my breathing hitches.

“No, it’s fine, stay. But I need to pee,” I say, voice pitchy, as I climb off the bed.

I cross the bedroom on seriously wobbly legs, which have nothing to do with the alcohol in my system, and everything to do with Jake in my bed over there, and grab my pyjamas; a vest and short set, and stumble into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I pee, brush my teeth, take my make-up off and climb in the shower.

After I finish my shower, I put my pyjamas on, towel dry my newly clean hair, and tie it damp into a messy knot.

I’m hoping I’ve been gone long enough so that Jake has fallen asleep because I’ve got a feeling if he hasn’t, I’m soon going to be making the mistake, I really want to make with him tonight.

I turn the light off before opening the bathroom door, then I quietly let myself back into the bedroom and pad my way across the carpeted floor.

As I’m nearing the bed, Jake utters, “Well that was the longest pee in history. What the fuck were you doing in there?”

So he is still awake. Crap.

“I took a shower, just like you should.”

“You saying I smell?” he chuckles.

I pull the duvet back and climb into bed.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, but if you’re too lazy to take a shower, can you at least take your stinky ass clothes off, and get your own blanket out of the wardrobe.”

Laying on my back, I tuck the duvet safely around me.

Like that will stop Jake getting near me if he wants to. The man could undress a woman with one look alone.

“Yes ma’am.”

He clambers up off the bed and I watch in the dark as he pulls his T-shirt off over his head and removes his jeans, leaving him in just his boxer shorts. His sexy, tight black boxer shorts.

“Fuck, I do stink,” he says sniffing his T-shirt, then his armpit. He tosses his shirt to the floor next to his jeans. “I’ll take a quick shower.”

He disappears off into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar and the light flooding into the bedroom.

I lay here, my heart beating up a storm in my chest. My whole body on fire, as I listen to the running water, desperate to go climb back in that shower with Jake, and do things with him I shouldn’t want to do.

I hear the water go off, then he re-emerges a few minutes later, wearing only a towel around his waist, his hair all damp and mussed up.

I’m so done for.

He leaves the bathroom door ajar again, a splay of light in the room illuminating his nearly naked form, his tattoos looking intricate in the low-light. He looks beautiful, and I wonder if he’s done it on purpose leaving the light on him, giving me a full view.

Maybe he left the door open while he was getting a shower on purpose too.