The Mighty Storm (28 page)

He
’
s asking for my permission. He wants me to say yes.

I want to say yes. More than I
’
ve ever wanted anything before.

With trembling fingers, I take the condom from his hand and tear the foil open with my teeth.

His eyes are wide and flaming. His breath
’
s heavy.

He kneels before me.

I reach over, and with shaky fingers, put the condom on him. I can feel his body trembling under my hands.

It does extraordinary things to me. I
’
m literally panting with desire.

He moves between my legs, resting up on his arms, hovering over me, he starts to kiss me hard on the mouth again.

I grab hold of his backside pulling him closer to me. I just want him inside me. I want him so much. I
’
m aching to feel him. Years and years of wanting him, coursing through me.

He pauses, breathing heavily and lifts himself up on his arms, away from me, parting our bodies. “You
’
ve been drinking, Tru. Maybe we shouldn
’
t do this now, maybe we should wait.”

What? Is he joking?

I look up at him. No, he isn
’
t.

He waits until we
’
re this close to pause. To think.

I don
’
t want to wait. I don
’
t want to think. And I
’
m the one who really should be thinking right now out of the two of us.

My body is screaming for him. I need him to relive the ache I have for him. The one that has been trapped in me for well over a decade.

I lift my hips, meeting back with him, pressing against him. “I
’
ve waited long enough,” I breathe.

Whatever control he was trying to maintain instantly vanishes.

Then he
’
s back on me, pressing me into the bed, fisting my hair, kissing me deeply, holding me in place.

I kiss him back equally as passionate, my hands on his back, gripping him to me.

I want him so badly, but now I
’
m also feeling a little nervous about his size.

Jake must sense this, because he whispers, “Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow.”

He slides his hand under my lower back, lifting me up, he very gently, and very slowly eases himself into me.

I gasp, all but convulsing on the spot. He is filling me and more.

“
Are you okay?” he asks, voice soft, lifting his head to look at me.

“
I
’
m better than okay.” I reach up and pull his mouth back down to mine.

He moves his hand out from under me, but I leave my hips lifted, meeting him, as he slowly pulls out and then rocks back into me, going in a little further, a little deeper.

I moan in line with the feeling.

“
Jesus, Tru,” he groans, gently biting down on my lip. “You feel amazing.”

I try not to think of how many women he
’
s said the very same thing too.

Then as if reading my mind, he stops moving inside me.

Holding my face with his hand, fingers buried deep in my hair, he stares down at me in the darkness.

“
It
’
s always been you, Tru. Always.”

And suddenly it doesn
’
t just feel like we
’
re having sex anymore. It feels intense, meaningful.

It feels like he
’
s making love to me.

I know it
’
s stupid, because Jake doesn
’
t do love.

But for this moment, I want to believe it. I want to believe his words. I want to believe that it
’
s always been me.

Because if I
’
m throwing everything I have away with Will for this moment, then I need to believe it
’
s worth it.

Jake takes hold of my hand, entwining our fingers, he rests them beside my head on the pillow, his other cupping my face, he kisses me, his pace picking up, moving further inside me, and now I’m used to his size, I let him, needing this and more.

“
Fuck,” he groans. “This is ... Tru … you feel … fuccckk.”

I move my mouth from his, kissing his jaw, nipping his skin with my teeth. Knowing that I
’
m doing this to him, making him feel this way, makes me feel hot, sexy and uninhibited.

So totally unlike me.

And I surprise myself, when I hear the words escaping my husky sounding mouth, “Sit up, Jake.”

A brief pause while he meets my eyes.

Understanding what I want, Jake puts his arm under my back, lifting me with him, staying inside me, he sits back onto his heels with me straddling him.

With my hair damp and flowing down my back, I place my hands on his shoulders. Very slowly, I start to move up and down on his length. In this position I can have as much or as little of Jake as I want, and I want all of him.

His hands are on my hips, moving with me. Then they
’
re on my breasts, then upwards tangling into my hair and he
’
s pulling my face to his, kissing me again.

It
’
s like he doesn
’
t know which part of me he wants to touch the most.

And I like that he
’
s this out of control over me.

I start to move faster and faster, and before I know it I feel the build inside me, so soon and so intense, I couldn
’
t hold off even if I wanted to.

“
Oh, Jake,” I groan as I come forcefully, like I
’
ve never come before, exploding all around him.

While I
’
m coming, Jake drives me back into the bed, and starts to fuck me hard, then he
’
s tensing, rigid, calling out my name.

We lay, panting breathless for minutes after, both coming down from our high.

Jake moves off me, lying beside me, he takes his condom off, tying a knot in the end, he drops it to the floor and pulls me into his arms.

“
That was amazing,” he murmurs, kissing my hair. “I wish we
’
d done this year
’
s ago.”

I can
’
t find the words to speak.

Because he
’
s right, we should have done this year
’
s ago, before he left. Pre-Will.

Guilt washes over me like a tidal wave, taking everything with it.

But then if we had, had sex all those years ago, he would have ruined me, because I would have never recovered from it. I would have never recovered from him.

Because I know unequivocally I
’
ll never recover from this, from what we
’
ve just done.

Where the hell is that music coming from?

Adele. Crap, my phone
’
s ringing and it
’
s in my bag in the living room.

I untangle myself from a very naked Jake, and make a dash for my bag.

Grabbing it off the sofa I rip it open, retrieve my phone and answer without looking at the caller display.

“
Hello,” I say breathless.

“
Why are you out of breath?”

Vicky.

“
Because I was in bed and my phone was in the living room.”

“
And were you in bed with Jake?”

What?!

“
What?”

“
Jake
–
is it true?” she asks with a conspiratorial tone to her voice.

I look around the room suspiciously. I
’
m half-expecting her to jump out on me any second now.

“
Is what true about Jake?” My voice trembles slightly, and I curse it.

“
Tru, stop evading
–
is it, or is it not true that you and Jake are sleeping together?”

My heart stops in my chest. No beating, no nothing. I think I may actually be dead right now. And it would so serve me right if I was.

“
No!” I exclaim, coming back to life. “Why would you ask that?” I try to keep my voice steady, but it did wobble a little again, I
’
m just hoping she didn
’
t notice.

“
You so are!”

“
No. I
’
m not.” I put my best
‘
I
’
m not fucking kidding
’
voice on.

I hear Jake move in bed. I spin on the spot looking at him through the open door.

Guilt stains all over me in this moment, as I look on at the very evidence of my betrayal of Will, before me.

So not only do I cheat, I also lie about cheating.

I hate to lie to Vicky, but I can
’
t exactly tell her the truth. Will has to be the one to be told first. And honestly, I haven
’
t even had a chance to sort it all through in my own mind quite yet as to how that
’
s going to unfold.

Then I look down at myself and realise I
’
m completely naked.

“
Tru? Are you still there?” Vicky sounds a little concerned.

“
Um … yeah. Just give me a sec,” I mutter.

Removing my phone from my ear, I keep it in my hand and tiptoe back into the bedroom. I pick up the first item of clothing I find, which happens to be Jake
’
s stinky T-shirt from last night, and pull it on.

But it doesn
’
t smell so stinky anymore. It just smells of Jake. It pains and pleases me at the same time.

Silently, I walk back through to the living room, closing the door quietly behind me. I sit down on the edge of the coffee table facing the closed bedroom door.

“
Okay, I
’
m back,” I say.

“
All okay?” Vicky asks, she still sounds concerned. And I feel sick.

“
Yeah, I just needed a drink of water, was feeling a little dry … so why on earth do you think I
’
m sleeping with Jake?”

“
Because it
’
s splashed all over the internet, my darling,” she says softly. “Pictures of you dancing up close and personal in a club with Jake, then there
’
s shots of him carrying you into a hotel.”

Oh, fuck.

We were followed here by the paps.

Her words are thudding around my head, chasing on the tails of many, many other questions and fears I have.

How did I not even notice we were being photographed in the club, or at the hotel?

Because I was too wrapped up in Jake.

Why would they be so interested in Jake with me? It
’
s not unusual for Jake to be seen with a woman.

“
They know who you are, my darling,” she continues as if reading my mind. “That you
’
re doing his bio, your name is in the article.”

Okay, so maybe there
’
s my answer why they
’
re so interested. Jake is sleeping with his biographer. That
’
s going to pique a little interest for the dirt-dishers.

“
What else does it say?” I ask in a small voice.

“
That Jake serenaded you at the show they were recording last night.”

“
Oh,” I sigh.

“
So that
’
s true?”

“
Ahum.”

“
Which song?”

“
Through It All.”

“
Oh,” she says.

Yes, oh, indeed.

“
Okay, it also says here that he said you are the love of his life right before he serenaded you.”

“
He never said that!” I cry.

I cover my hand with my mouth, realising how loud I was. I don
’
t want to wake Jake.

“
He never said that I
’
m the love of his life,” I repeat in a quieter voice.

Goddamn tabloid journo
’
s.

“
You know how they like to make things up, honey.”

“
What else does it say?” I ask, cringing on the question. “Do they know Jake and I grew up together?”

“
Hmm…” I can just imagine her eyes scanning the text in that way she does. And then I
’
m suddenly hit with stinging tears at the back of my eyes, and I just want to tell her everything. She
’
s one of my closest friends and right now I really need a friend.