Chapter Eighteen
I’ve been surreptitiously watching Jake since he walked away from me thirty minutes ago.
I’m aware of every single move he makes, my eyes tracking him around the room, watching him greet people who are clearly here just to see him, as I force an interest in what Will has to say.
I know I’m not being fair to Will. But I just can’t seem to get my focus straight anymore.
Jealousy and anger are in my driving seat.
Jake hasn’t looked in my direction once in all that time. And now he’s seated at his table, in the smoking area of this place, with Tom and Smith, and hordes of groupies hanging around them, and of course the leggy Zzhuilette.
I had thought at one point, while he was working the room, he’d binned her off, as she was nowhere to be seen, but the second he sat down, she was there again. And my temporary sense of relief was gone.
While Will is talking to Stuart, I sneak another peek across the room, just in time to watch as Zzhuilette leans across the table, her cleavage well on show for all to see, mainly Jake, with an unlit cigarette perched between her glossy pink lips.
Jake pulls his lighter from his pocket, sparking it, he holds it up to her cigarette.
She puts her hand on his wrist, touching his friendship bracelet, my bracelet, holding his hand in place and bats her eyelashes seductively at him as she puffs her cigarette lit.
I’m angry that he let her touch my bracelet. I know that sounds stupid, but I’m not exactly feeling rational right now.
She moves back into her seat in a cloud of smoke, pushing her chest out, crossing her long legs suggestively at him.
She’s the kind of sexy that I could only dream to be.
She is beautiful and I feel suitably inadequate. She is Jake’s type for sure. His equal.
I really don’t know what it is he sees in me. Or maybe I’m just a conquest like I said to Simone, because of our history. And the unobtainable, because of Will.
Maybe that’s why he wants me so much.
Or maybe not so much now as the case may be.
As I’m staring, I see Jake’s eyes flicker past Zzhuilette and straight in my direction. I quickly look away, staring down at my drink.
I can’t do this. I need a breather.
Getting up from my seat, I say to Will, “I’m just going to the ladies.”
I grab my bag and as I’m walking past, Will catches my hand.
“Are you okay, darling?” he asks in a quiet voice, looking up at me.
“I’m fine,” I smile.
“You just seem a bit quiet, not your usual self.”
He’s noticed. I really am not being fair to him at all. He flew all this way to see me and I’m just visually chasing Jake around this room.
I’m going to go to the bathroom to sort myself out, and come back out and focus all my attention on Will, just like he deserves.
“I’m fine, baby, honestly.” I touch his face with my hand. “I just think maybe all this travelling with the tour has finally caught up with me. I’m not used to it.”
“Well, you’ll be home tomorrow night for a few weeks break, so you can relax then. And I’ll be there to take care of you.”
I feel sick at his kind words. I’m the lowest of the low. How could I cheat on this wonderful man?
Because you love Jake.
I push the thought to the back of my mind.
“Sounds wonderful,” I say.
He kisses my hand, then releases it and turns back to Stuart, resuming their conversation.
I cross the huge room on unsteady legs, feeling like they might give out on me any moment now. Forcing a calm I don’t own, I hold my head up high and carry on forward.
I see Simone is still at the bar with Denny, deep in conversation. Catching her eye, I give her a mini thumbs up. She grins happily at me.
I’m just opening the bathroom door, when someone grabs me from behind and drives me into the empty bathroom.
As I turn, surprised, I see it’s Jake.
He locks the door behind him and leans back against it. His eyes look like they are on fire.
Something in my stomach drops, then coils lower. My legs start to tremble.
I’m ecstatic he’s followed me here, and angry too.
Then my whole body catches up with my legs, and the tremble runs from my head, back down to my toes, tightening me up in those special places. The places only Jake can somehow magically touch with one single look alone.
“What are you doing here?” I say, going with my anger. “Someone might have seen you come in.”
“No one saw me.” He sounds confident, assured. Like always.
I don’t know how true that statement is. Eyes are always on Jake wherever he goes.
“Great performance tonight – Mr Brightside – really Jake? Why not just spell it out to the whole world,” I bite.
He shrugs, grinning.
“What do you want?” I ask, rattled by his calm demeanour.
He lifts his eyebrow. “You.” He starts to move slowly toward me like a tiger stalking its prey.
“Jake, no … not here, not now. Someone could come.”
“Dave’s outside the door and it’s locked. No one will bother us.”
So Dave knows I’m sleeping with Jake? Brilliant.
“No, Jake. Please,” I beg, as he moves closer.
I’m begging because I don’t know if I have the ability to say no to him. I haven’t so far.
When I see he’s got no intention of listening to my pleas, I start to back up and quickly find myself up against the sinks, with nowhere left to go.
My whole body is rushed with adrenaline, want and fear. It’s a heady combination.
When he reaches me, I put my trembling hand out, pressing it flat against his hard chest, stopping him at arm’s length.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispers intense, eyes fixed on mine.
The exhilaration of being in here with him, him taking control like this, is doing crazy things to me.
He pushes hard against my hand and I’m weakened to stop him, and truthfully, I don’t want to.
The second I saw him with that girl, I hated it, and I wanted to reclaim him as mine.
So when he grabs hold of my hair, fisting his hand into it, and crushes his mouth to mine, I don’t stop him.
What is it about him that makes me lose all reason and sense? What is it about Jake that turns me into a person I don’t want to be, don’t even like at times, yet makes me feel so completely and utterly alive like I’ve never before known.
His tongue invades my mouth, claiming me his. I wind my fingers into his hair.
He tastes of sweat and whiskey and cigarettes … everything Jake.
With his hands cupped around my backside, he picks me up and sits me on the edge of the sink. I wrap my legs around his, holding him to me.
“I want you so bad,” he groans into my mouth.
My hands go under his T-shirt. He stops kissing me, and pulls it off over his head.
I drink him in. All I want is him. I don’t care about anything else right now, but having Jake.
He grabs my hair again, pulling my head back, looking into my eyes. “Tell me you want me.” His tone is commanding, possessive.
“I want you,” I breathe, my voice trembling.
He grins, then covers my mouth with his, pushing his hips firmly against me.
He’s hard already. The feel of him, like this, sends waves of intense sensation rushing through my body.
Jake drags his hand from my hair, down over my breast. He breaks from kissing me to pull my cami off over my head, leaving me in my bra. That’s gone a few seconds later.
He bends, putting his mouth around my nipple, sucking hard.
I groan at the feeling. I reach forward and undo his jeans, freeing him. I wrap my hand around him, working him up further.
He moans over my skin, moving his mouth to my other breast, kissing every part.
Jake grabs hold of my thigh, lifting my leg to the side, his hand moves to my skirt. He drives it up, then his hand continues, higher, his mouth clamped on mine, kissing me harder and harder.
My legs are still trembling from the lust and the danger of it all. Anyone could catch us in here.
Jake hooks his fingers under my panties and pushes his finger inside me, then without hesitation, another.
I arch my back, pushing into his hand, my head falling back.
“Ahh,” I moan, as his fingers move inside me.
In this moment, I’m his completely, whatever he wants me to do, I will.
“I want you now,” he growls.
“Yes, now.”
Then before I realise, he’s tearing my panties in two, putting a condom on, and pushing himself inside me.
I’m so accustomed to his size, that when he slides his hand under my thigh, pulling me closer, lifting my leg higher, hooking it on his hip, giving him full access, I move willingly.
“Oh God, Jake,” I moan.
“That’s it baby,” he breathes, briefly closing his eyes. “Feel me inside you. I’m hard like this for you only.”
I curl my fingers around the edge of the sink, holding on as Jake takes me here on it.
“I need you,” he groans into my ear. “I f*ckin’ need you so much.”
I hold my legs tighter around him, bringing him even deeper inside me.
And I realise in this exact moment, just how much I love this man. Completely.
I’m addicted to him. And he’s an addiction I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give up.
He’s grabbing at my flesh, driving into me, making love to me, and I’m so turned on, so close to coming, that when he groans, “Come for me, baby.” I instantly do.
He follows, and we climax together.
I’m all sensation as Jake kisses me deeply, his tongue invading my mouth, my body tightening all around him.
For a long few seconds, we stay locked together, Jake’s arms around me.
Then I come down from my Jake high with a hard bang.
Will.
What have I done?
I push him aside, sliding down off the sink on to my wobbly legs. I retrieve my bra and cami off the floor, quickly putting them on, seeing my torn panties on the floor.
F*ck!
How the hell am I going to explain to Will why I’m not wearing any underwear?
Angry with Jake, I pick them up off the floor and throw them at him.
He catches them, holding them up in his hand, he stares at me.
“What the f*ck were you thinking?” I hiss. “Ripping my panties off – Jesus Christ, Jake! What the hell am I going to tell Will?”
He removes his condom, binning it, zips his pants up, bends down and retrieves his T-shirt pulling it back on. Then he stares back at me with narrowed eyes.
“What was I thinking? I was thinking about wanting you. I don’t really give a shit what you tell Will.”
“Jesus Christ!” I repeat, putting my hands to my head, trying to sort through my tangled thoughts.
No, it’ll be okay, I’ll just tell Will that I came out without any panties on. Not that I’ve ever done it in the past, but I can make out it was a sexy thing for him.
The very thought makes me feel sick.
How can I be thinking sexy stuff with Will when I’ve just had sex with Jake?
This is so very screwed up.
I stare at him, my underwear still in his hand. “Give them to me,” I say, holding my hand out.
He smirks at me. “No.”
“Give them back.” I keep my voice low, but my tone firm.
Jake pushes my torn panties deep into his pocket. “Come and get them.” He tilts his head to the side, challenging me.
I don’t have time for this. I have to get back out there to Will, he’ll be wondering where I am.
“Keep them,” I say, turning for the door. “I haven’t got time for your games.”
Jake catches hold of my hand from behind. “Where are you going?” There’s a quiet desperation to his voice.
“Where do think I’m going?”
I’m angry with him for coming in here, disgusted with myself for being unable to say no. Angry for what I’ve just done here, in this bathroom, with him.
But what’s worse is I feel angry at myself because I wanted it. I wanted him more than I can ever begin to explain.
He steps closer, taking my face in his hands. I try to move. I don’t want to look at him right now, because it will mean having to face what I’ve done, but he forces my face to his.
“Look at me,” he says, firmly.
I pull my eyes to his.
“Don’t go to him, Tru, please.”
I sigh. “I’m sorry … I have to.”
He rubs his thumb gently over my skin. I’m lost to his touch again. I close my eyes, revelling in the feel of his skin on mine.
“You don’t have to. Just go out there and tell him the truth, baby,” he says, voice low, soft. “Tell him you’re with me now … then we can get out of here. Just you and me. We can go anywhere in the world you want.”
I flick open my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous! I can’t just tell him right here and now that I’ve been screwing you – that I’ve just screwed you in here, and then just bugger off with you! It doesn’t work like, Jake! Not everything in life is as easy as you seem to think it is! I can’t do that to him. He deserves better than that from me.”
“And I don’t?” He drags his hand through my hair, pulling my head back, so I’m forced to look up into his eyes. “And that’s what we’re doing here, Tru – just screwing? I thought it was a lot more than that.” He sounds hurt, angry, bitter.
He’s every right to.
But I’ve been drinking and I just can’t see straight at the moment. I’m so confused. My head is just an absolute clusterf*ck of a mess.
“Currently, screwing is all that seems to be on your mind. This isn’t about me. I don’t think it ever has been … and all this, in here was just because your ego was hurt, so you came in here looking for a quick f*ck to make yourself feel better. To get one over on Will.”
He looks like I’ve just slapped him. He drops his hand from my hair and steps back.
“I didn’t hear you saying no.”
“No, but I should have. Can’t you see what we’ve just done in here was wrong – what we’ve been doing is wrong?!”
“You regret me?” He looks hurt.
It hurts me to see his pain.
“No!” I rub my face, pulling in a deep breath. “No, I don’t regret you, I just … I don’t know.” I shake my head, frustrated.
“Well seeing as though you don’t know, why don’t I just make this easy for you.” He turns to leave.
“No, Jake, please.” I grab his arm, looking into his face despairingly. “I’m just so confused.”
“I’m not. I know what I want – you. I want to be out there, with you, as mine.”
“You seem to be doing just fine with Juliette keeping you company. She looked to be soothing your pain right away from what I saw.”
It just slipped out.
I know I have no right to be jealous, my current situation pending, and I hate to show my hand to him, but it was out before I could stop it.
“You’re jealous? Seriously, Tru?” I see the smirk in his eyes, and that just fuels my anger right back up.
“Just f*ck off back to your tart!”
“I don’t want to f*ckin’ go back to her. I want you.”
Then suddenly I just want to hurt him.
“Well you can’t have me. Not tonight. Not for a while. I’m going home tomorrow, remember.” I let go of his arm.
I see the pain flicker over his beautiful face, and I feel sick. And all I want to do is take the words back.
“I’m sorry,” I start talking quickly. “I didn’t mean that – I just – I will tell him, Jake, soon. It’s just difficult, and the constant pressure from you is driving me crazy. I feel like I can’t breathe. You just need to give me space and let me do this in my own time.”
But I can tell I’ve already lost him.
“You want space – you’ve got it. Shit loads of it.” He turns from me again, and stalks away, heading for the door, then stops just before it, turns and marches back until he’s close to my face.
“I’m not the other guy, Tru. It doesn’t fit with me – who I am. I’m the guy. And if you’re saying you can’t give me that now, then …” He leaves his words hanging.
“Then what?” My voice is trembling.
Saying nothing more, he turns from me and walks away.
“Answer me!” I cry after him. “Then what, Jake? You’re done? What?!”
I can feel panic rising in me. I’m losing him completely.
He stops and turns marginally, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “Interpret it whichever way you want. I don’t give a shit anymore.”
He unlocks the door, and stalks out of the bathroom slamming the door behind him.
I look at myself in the mirror. In this moment, right now, I hate myself.
Gripping hold of the sink, I try to control the shakes convulsing through me.
Then I throw up.
The Mighty Storm
Samantha Towle's books
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