Wethering the Storm

Wethering the Storm by Samantha Towle

CHAPTER ONE

Pushing my sunglasses from my eyes to rest on top of my head, I tilt my face toward the still-hot early-evening sun. Letting my leg dangle off the edge of the lounger, I push my toes into the soft white sand. Jake is beside me on his own lounger, his hand in mine, fingers laced together, as he talks on the phone to Stuart.
“Just tell them to do the job I pay them to do. If they have a problem with that, then remind them they are not irreplaceable…I know. F*ckin’ idiots…oh, you know that thing I asked you to do for me…you did? Good, thanks.”
With a sigh, Jake ends his call and tosses his iPhone onto the side table.
“All okay?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.
God, he is beautiful. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to how breath-stealing Jake truly is.
He looks even more stunning here, with his skin sun-kissed, causing the freckles on his nose to show more prominently. He looks yummy delicious.
“Hmm? Yeah, everything’s fine,” he answers, sounding a little distracted. “Just people not doing what I pay them to do.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“No.” He lifts my hand to his mouth and brushes his lips across my knuckles, placing a specific kiss on my ring. “There are a lot of things I want to do with you while we are here, Tru, and talking about work is not one of them.”
Ignoring his desire to not talk about work, I say, “Do you need to get back to LA early to sort the problem out?”
Jake shifts onto his side to face me. “No. You and I are spending time together here, alone. Nothing and no one will get me off this island and away from you. I plan on spending the next five days keeping you in the minimal amount of clothes possible, if not none at all, and spending most of that time f*cking you senseless.”
A shiver runs down my spine.
I love it when he talks to me like this. Dirty and domineering. It’s incredibly hot.
“You’re such a romantic.” I roll my eyes playfully.
“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”
I let my gaze drift to serious. “No, I wouldn’t.”
I reach over and grab my bottle of water off the table and take a drink, letting my eyes drift over the beautiful scenery before me.
We’re on a private island in Fiji. More specifically, we’re staying on Turtle Island, one of the Yasawa Islands in Fiji. It’s where The Blue Lagoon was filmed. It’s private and exclusive and has only fourteen villas on the whole island, but Jake being Jake, he has rented out the whole island for a week. A week of total isolation for him and me. Dave and Ben, Jake’s bodyguards, are with us, of course, staying separately in one of the other villas at the far side of the island. I’ve barely seen them since I arrived here. And aside from the staff who live on the island, it’s just Jake and me.
That’s how it’s been for the last two days, and it is heaven. Absolute heaven.
After the show at Madison Square Garden, when Jake did his stage dash to come after me and ask me to marry him, things got a little crazy…well, crazier, as life with Jake is always crazy.
Basically, I wasn’t thinking straight after everything that had happened that night, and I wasn’t as smart as I should have been. I didn’t hide my ring. As Jake and I entered the hotel after leaving the show, a member of the waiting press spotted it, and all hell broke loose.
For the next two days we were literally confined to the hotel. Press and fans gathered and hollered outside. It was suffocating. When Jake suggested we get away and leave the country for a while, I was fully on board.
I left all the travel arrangements to Jake. I didn’t care where we went, just as long as we were alone.
And alone we are.
I love being here with him. It’s the first time since we got together that it’s been just him and me.
I know I just offered to go back to LA, but in all honesty it was a halfhearted offer. I don’t want to let this go—what we have here right now—the complete solitude to do what we want, when we want.
But I know there’s something bothering him workwise. The tone of his voice when he was talking to Stuart was clear enough to tell me that. Even now, I can tell his mind is elsewhere as he stares out at the ocean, his fingers tapping restlessly against my hand.
I hate that he won’t share with me what it is. I know it’s because he doesn’t want to burden me, but I want him to burden me. I want him to share everything with me. Our lives are entwined now, and I don’t want him carrying things alone anymore. The last time he did that, he fell off the wagon, and we lost each other as a result of it.
Jake is still only a few weeks’ clean, and I, for one, want to keep him that way.
I’m glad he’s here, away from all temptation at the moment. Well, all temptations except me, that is. I do worry, though, how things will be for him when we eventually go back to the real world.
“You fancy a swim before the sun goes in?” I nod in the direction of the water lapping the white sand, deciding not to push the subject further. I’ll tackle his communication issues later, when he’s more relaxed.
Jake’s eyes set on my body, his gaze roaming every curve, causing all the muscles in me to involuntarily clench. Especially the ones between my legs.
“You’re asking if I want a chance to see you wet, wearing that bikini?” A grin curves his gorgeous mouth as he lifts his brow in question.
I glance down at my favourite and most recent bikini purchase. It’s white with pink flowers and has tiny diamantes sewn in. I picked it up from the airport. It was love at first sight.
“How do you manage to turn something as simple as my request to swim, into sex?” I ask, chuckling, as I climb up from my lounger.
I pull my sunglasses off my head and drop them onto my towel. Hands on hips, I stare down at him.
Jake’s eyes skim my curves again. “When you’re in the equation, sweetheart, everything is about sex.”
He slides off his lounger, rising to his feet in one graceful move, and comes over to me.
My whole body suddenly aches for his touch. I feel hungry for him.
I simply cannot get enough of Jake. And I don’t want to. Ever.
Jake presses himself against me. My hands instantly go to his hard stomach, fingers pressed against his rigid muscle, as I stare up into his beautiful blue eyes. Eyes I could spend a lifetime staring into.
A devilish smile curves his lips as two large hands reach down and cup my behind, urging me to lift and wrap my legs around his waist.
Of course, I happily oblige his unspoken request.
Snaking my arms around his neck, I wind my fingers into his lush black hair and kiss his lips, feeling his instant erection press against me.
“You’re hard?” I smile.
“Well, you’re hot,” he says with a shrug.
Jake puts his lips against my neck, sliding the tip of his tongue over my skin as he starts the short walk down to the water.
He wades us into the sun-warmed ocean until we’re chest deep.
The long length of my hair is already wet, so holding on to Jake’s shoulders, I tilt my head back, wetting the rest.
As I right myself, I meet Jake’s stare again. “How did I get so lucky to have you?” he asks. His eyes suddenly look unsure.
Whatever anxiety is in his mind right now, I want to ease it, reassure him.
“I ask myself the same question every day about you,” I murmur. I need Jake to realise I am no better than he is. He has his faults, but so do I.
Jake exhales, closing his eyes briefly, then leans in and kisses me. His kiss takes my regret with it.
Losing myself in him, I part my lips, letting his tongue into my mouth. His tongue caresses mine with slow, deliberate movements.
Knowing where this kiss is heading, I whisper, “You want to go back to the villa?” I’m so ready to get naked with him.
“No. I want you right here, right now.” The command in his voice equals the command in his hands as they grip my ass tighter, pulling me hard onto his erection.
“You into exhibition sex nowadays, Wethers?”
He lets out a deep, throaty laugh. “No, I’m just into you. All. The. F*cking. Time.” His words come out staccato with each kiss he places upon my shoulder.
I feel his teeth graze over my skin. My nipples tighten in response, leaving my breasts feeling very heavy in my bikini top.
I cast a quick glance around. “What if someone sees us?”
Jake glances around, eyes glittering. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. In the ocean, no less. Who the f*ck is going to see us?”
“The people who work here. Or Dave. Or Ben.”
“Then they’ll get a good show.”
“Jake!” I slap his shoulder with my hand.
Bringing his face before mine, he rests the tip of his nose against mine. “They know to stay away. It’s just me and you out here, baby.”
Feeling uninhibited, as I can only with him, I murmur, “If that’s the case…” I press my lips to his neck, kissing him. I run my tongue over his skin, to the sensitive part just below his ear that I know drives him crazy.
Jake shudders and tightens his hold on me, grinding his hips into mine.
Moving my hand down, I submerge it into the water and reach into Jake’s swim shorts.
I’m instantly met with the silky, rock-hard feel of him. I slide my fingers down the shaft, stroking just as I know he likes.
Jake’s mouth searches for mine, groaning; he kisses me like he’s starved for me.
I love how Jake’s hunger for me is never sated. We’ve made love countless times since we arrived on the island, him devouring and depleting me every time, but each time is still as intense as the first.
Jake runs his hand over my breast, cupping it. Tugging my bikini top down, freeing my breast, he traces his thumb over the tip of my already erect nipple. His other hand is busy working its way into my bikini bottoms from behind.
His fingers find my entrance, and he slips one inside me.
I let out a moan of pleasure into his mouth.
“F*ck,” he groans. “I can’t wait. I need to be inside you. Now.”
I love it when he gets demanding and greedy for me.
Loosening my legs from around him, I shimmy his swim shorts down over his hips, then I move my bikini bottoms to the side.
Jake positions the head of his cock at my entrance, and very slowly, he eases a little of himself into me. Jake usually prepares me for his size with his fingers and tongue, relaxing me, readying me for him, but I’m so turned on right now, doing it out here, I don’t care if it does hurt.
I need him inside me. Apparently, more than I have the need for self-preservation.
So does Jake, as his hands go back to my ass, grabbing me firmly, pulling me onto the full length of him.
“Shit,” I hiss, between my teeth, as he opens me wide, to painful pleasure.
“Are you okay?” he searches my eyes.
“Yeah…” I shift my hips around him “Yeah, I’m good…great,” I breathe as I hit onto the amazing feeling of him inside me.
“Sorry, I was being selfish…but…f*ck, Tru,” he groans softly. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how incredible you feel around me. You’re so f*ckin’ tight. So f*ckin’ hot.”
“Ahh,” I moan as Jake tilts his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside of me.
“You’re gonna come for me,” he breathes over my skin. “Right here in the Pacific Ocean. You’re gonna scream my name as I bring you to orgasm.” He licks my lower lip, then plunges his tongue deep into my mouth with each hard thrust into me.
His movements increase in tempo, and I hold on tight to him, fingernails digging into his skin, the wash of the salty water slick between us.
“I’ll never get enough of you, Tru. Never,” he growls into my ear, hitting me with hard, sure thrusts, penetrating me deep inside.
And he makes sure he doesn’t as he continues to make love to me in the swell of the Pacific Ocean, while the sun descends, making its effortless journey behind the water.


Dusk has settled, and Jake and I lie together in the four-poster bed of our villa.
It’s a tasteful, modest villa. Not flashy. It’s us.
The whole place is open, each room flowing into the other. It has a free feeling about it. The type of freedom Jake isn’t usually granted.
I wonder if that’s one of the reasons he chose this place for us.
The bedroom is light and airy, the bedsheets a clean, crisp white. Even though it’s a haven many celebrities choose for a getaway, it’s not overdone. It’s understated.
It’s perfect.
The sheets are kicked back because of the insane evening heat. Our legs are tangled together, our bodies touching, sticky from the sea salt and sand coating our skin. I’m draped across Jake’s chest as he absentmindedly plays with my tangled hair, quietly humming a song.
I listen intently as he starts to softly sing the words.
He sounds beautiful. I love listening to Jake sing. Especially a cappella.
“What song are you singing?” I ask, lifting my head.
“Our song.”
“I didn’t know we had one.” I smile. Jake and I have lots of songs that remind us of our childhood, but none that are just him and me, that symbolise us as a couple.
“It’s called ‘You Started,’ by Ou Est Le Swimming Pool.” At my puzzled expression, he says, “You never heard it before?”
I shake my head.
“And you call yourself a musical journalist.” He clicks his tongue in mock reproof. “They were a band from the UK as well. Poor showing on your part, baby.”
“Shut up.” I stick my tongue out at him.
He catches it lightning quick between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a gentle tug before letting go.
“So why is it our song?” I rest my chin on his chest.
“Because it’s us,” he replies simply.
“Okay…,” I say, needing more. “And just when did you decide it was our song?”
I see a flash of pain cross his face. I don’t like the way it makes me feel.
“The first time I heard it was the day after you left me in Boston.” With his words comes a fierce pain in my chest as I remember our time apart. “I was in the car with Denny. He’d forced me out of my hotel room to get some food, and he had the album playing in his car. When I heard the song, it was just like listening to the story of us, Tru.” He focuses his gaze in on me, staring deep into my eyes like no one else can. “If I didn’t already know at that point that I had to win you back, then that song made me realise even more that I…” He pauses, blowing out a breath.
“Realise what?” I urge.
“That I had to fight for you. That I had to do whatever it took to get you back. Even if it meant playing dirty.” He runs his rough fingertips down my cheek. “There is no one else for me. I begin and end with you.”
Reaching for my hand, he lifts it to his and places them palm to palm.
“Can I hear it?” I ask, feeling choked up. “Do you have it?”
“It’s on my phone. It’s your ringtone, in fact,” he adds, reaching for it.
“How do I not know that?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Because when you ring me, you’re usually elsewhere.” He gives me a dumb face.
“You’re such an idiot,” I say with a laugh, shoving him in the chest.
Chuckling, Jake presses a button on the screen of his phone and sets it down on his chest between us. A few seconds later, I hear light synth piano keys start to play.
The sound fills our villa. The only other sounds are the washing waves outside and the thudding of my aching heart.
The singer begins, and goose bumps shiver down my arms as I listen intently to every word. Hanging on them. Then it hits the chorus, and I can’t stop the tears that fill my eyes.
I know exactly what Jake is saying. It is us. Him. Me. Everything. The good, and the bad.
The second chorus breaks, and violins strum in the background, setting the tears to spill over and run down my cheeks.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Jake says, soothing me, brushing away my tears with his fingers.
“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. It’s stunning. And it’s us, completely. You’re right.”
“You did…start my life,” Jake says, referring to the song title, pushing his fingers into my hair, cupping my cheek.
“And you mine,” I utter, climbing on top of him. I crush my lips to his.
His hand goes to the back of my neck, holding me to him as his tongue gently strokes over mine. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, exhaling a gentle breath over me. “You don’t complete me, Tru. You make me who I am. You make me better. I’d be nothing without you. Nothing. I’ve been there once before, and I’m never going back. I’m never losing you again.”
I get chills at his words. “Good, because I’m going nowhere.”
“No regrets?” he asks.
“Never. I’m right where I’m meant to be—where I was always meant to be.”
Reaching between us, he moves his phone away, placing it on the bed, as the song comes to a close.
I lie against his chest, closing my eyes. I breathe in the essence of him as he wraps his arms tightly around me.
“We’ve got dinner plans,” he says after a moment, picking up his phone and checking the time.
“We do?”
“Yep, and we should get moving if we’re going to make them.”
Jake rolls me off his chest and gets up.
“The staff will wait, Jake. It’s not like they’re booked up or anything. Come back to bed.” I pat the empty space beside me.
I really can’t be bothered to get up. I’m happy to stay here, wrapped up in him.
He stretches his arms over his head, giving me a full, unadulterated view of his luscious body, then leans down and places a chaste kiss on my lips.
“Just humour me for once,” he says, then retreats to the bathroom, leaving me behind to ponder.
Humour him? What the hell is he talking about?
I hear the shower turn on.
“You’ve got half an hour to get ready, so get that sweet ass of yours moving,” Jake calls from the bathroom.
He’s so bossy.
With a huff, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and head into the bathroom to join him in the huge twin shower.


“You look beautiful,” Jake says, coming up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
I’m in front of the large bathroom mirror, putting the finishing touches on my outfit. I fasten my locket—the one Jake bought me in Paris—around my neck and smile back at his reflection.
“So do you. I love how your freckles stand out when you’ve been in the sun.”
He scrunches his face. “They make me look like I’m fourteen.”
I turn in his arms and run my fingertip down his nose. “No, they make you look hot. Hotter than usual.” I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss the tip of his nose.
I’m struggling on Turtle Island without my heels—I miss my heels a lot. I’m either barefoot or in flip-flops, which I’ll be donning tonight with my white strappy shift dress.
I step back, leaning against the sink, appraising my man, who is wearing cutoff jean shorts and a sleeveless Pearl Jam tee, looking the epitome of a rock star, with his tattoos exposed. You can take the rock star out of LA but never the rock star out of Jake.
“You ready?” he asks, fingering my locket against my chest.
“I am.”
Jake takes hold of my hand, linking our fingers, and leads me out of the bathroom, through the villa, and outside into the moonlit night.
It’s amazing here. I can see every single star in the sky. No smog shielding them from view—just clear skies for as far as the eye can see.
We walk to the beach, taking the short path to the main house, where the restaurant is. When we reach the turnoff, I start to head that way, but Jake tugs on my hand, pulling me back. He shakes his head.
I tilt my head, intrigued, but I let him lead me onward, no questions asked.
As we round the curve of the island, I catch sight of a table on the beach a short distance from the shoreline, set up and ready for us.
“Dinner on the beach?” I beam at him.
“Only the best for my girl,” he says, then kisses my forehead.
There are hanging lanterns, attached to sticks driven into the sand, surrounding the table. But it’s not the lanterns that catch my eye—it’s the lights just beyond the table.
Dropping Jake’s hand, I walk to the candles in the sand.
Marry Me

It’s spelled out by tea-light candles that have been worked into the sand, centred in a heart.
With my heart in my mouth, and my head a little dizzy, I turn to him. “You’re asking me to marry you?”
Staring steadily at me, he says, “I am.”
“Didn’t you already do that?” I offer a confused smile, holding up my left hand, displaying my very beautiful engagement ring.
Jake walks over to me. I don’t know why, but my heart starts to beat faster. My insides tremble, almost as if this is the first time he’s asking.
Reaching for me, he takes hold of both my hands. “Tru, I asked you to marry me backstage at Madison Square Garden in the midst of a show. Hardly a romantic setting and not how I ever envisioned it actually happening.” He takes a fortifying breath. “So this is me asking you the right way, the way I always wanted to.”
“Jake, I didn’t care how or where you asked me…only that you did ask.”
He rubs his thumb over my engagement ring. “I want you to have the best of everything I can give you. And I’m not talking money here, Tru. I’m talking memories. Our life together. I asked you to marry me straight after we had both just dragged each other through an emotional wringer. Now things have calmed and we’re good—”
“Great,” I add.
“Great.” He smiles. “I’m asking you again so your mind is clear on the fact that asking you was no knee-jerk reaction on my part. You, forever, is everything I want. And I guess, well…” He looks down, shifting uncomfortably, before meeting my eyes. “I guess I want to know for me too. I want to know that marrying me is exactly what you want. That you didn’t just say yes because you felt pressured into doing so.” His hands tighten around mine to almost the point of pain. “I wasn’t exactly taking no for an answer that night, was I?”
“No, I guess you weren’t.” I smile, shaking my head, remembering Jake’s words that night. “But I’m not exactly a pushover either. I wouldn’t have said yes if it wasn’t exactly what I wanted. I love you. I’ve always loved you,” I add, surprised by the tears that fill my eyes.
“I love you too, baby.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses me gently on the lips.
“So is that a yes?” he asks against my mouth.
“It’s a yes.” I grin, happiness bubbling up in me. “Now we have two marriage proposals to tell the kids about one day.”
I feel him stiffen up against me. And not in a good way.
Tilting my head back, I catch something in his eyes that sets unease rolling around my stomach.
Not good. Not good at all.
“I don’t mean we’ll have kids now, of course,” I hasten to add. “Not for ages. Like, a really, really long time.” Three, four years max.
Jake remains quiet, continuing to stare at me, his face an unreadable mask. But even in this low light, I can tell the colour has drained a little from his face.
And now I feel inclined to ask the question, “You do want kids, don’t you?”
I do. I couldn’t envision a life not having them.
He clears his throat. “I…um…well, I don’t know.” He shrugs. It’s an awkward, jerky kind of shrug. “I mean, it’s just not something I ever considered. I guess I just never saw kids as part of my future. They’re not an investment I ever considered making.”
An investment? Since when did kids become a commodity?
This really is not good. It’s so far from good, it’s replaced whatever the word for that would be.
“Oh,” I say.
What else can I say? A sudden chill settles over my skin, and it’s got nothing to do with the night air. I take a small step back from him.
“Look, Tru.” He lifts his eyes to mine. “You know I didn’t have the best role model growing up.”
Jake’s dad was an abusive, poor excuse for a man, who went to prison for his treatment of Jake and his mom.
“I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a dad,” he continues. “And babies…Christ, they don’t exactly fit into my world, do they? I mean, I wouldn’t have a clue where to start. Music is my thing. You, and music.”
I don’t know if it’s the look on my face or my body language or the complete bloody idiot inside of him possessing him to the point of maximum stupidity that prompts him to say, “But, hey, if kids are what you want, then sure, we’ll have kids.” He kisses my forehead. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. It’s no biggie. Come on, let’s eat.”
Stunned to silence, I let Jake lead me to the table, never actually saying the words I want to say. The ones that are stuck in my throat, choking me to death.
It’s no biggie, he said. No biggie.
He’s right, it’s not big. It’s huge. F*cking ginormous, in fact.
And right now my heart has dropped straight through that f*cking ginormous fact and is hurtling somewhere toward oblivion.
You don’t have a child with someone because it’s what the other person wants, because it will keep them happy. Especially when that something—as big as having children—is something you clearly do not want. You have a child with someone because it’s what you both want, together.
It’s most definitely what I want in the future. Apparently, Jake…not so much.
How did I not know this?
A hollow feeling takes up residence in my chest.
Jake doesn’t want kids. And I do.
This puts us on very different pages.
F*ck.
How did I go from a second marriage proposal and blissful happiness to a possibly empty future in the space of a few minutes?
Screw me and my goddamn big mouth.