The Mighty Storm (The Storm, #1)

I can’t help but snort a laugh out at that one.

Jake slides me an amused glance. But all it manages to do is tighten my stomach into knots, and then I have the sudden urge to want to touch him.

“I’m off to piss,” Denny laughs, shaking his head at Tom, he wanders off in the direction of the men’s room “You coming to pick up some skirts, dickhead?” Tom says directing a look at Jake, already sounding like it’s a given he’ll go.

I instantly tense. I don’t want Jake going to pick girls up. The thought is curdling my insides.

Jake shakes his head, taking a drink of his beer. “No, I’m good here.”

Tom looks at him like he’s grown another head. Even Stuart gives him a surprised stare.

I relax in my seat.

“Did they amputate your dick while you were in rehab? Or has Stuart finally managed to turn you?” Tom asks, laughing.

Turn him? Is Stuart gay?

It must be the expression on my face which causes Stuart to lean over to me and say, “I’m gay, honey.”

“Ah right,” I nod.

Makes sense. He’s ridiculously beautiful and has the best taste in clothes.

Jake laughs, reaching forward he puts his beer down. “No, and no,” he says answering Tom. “I’ve told you, I don’t fuck the staff.”

I’m ‘the staff’. So he won’t be fucking me then.

Thank God of course that he won’t be trying it on with me. I know he wouldn’t anyway because he doesn’t see me that way, but it’s just good to know Jake doesn’t have sex with the few women who work for him. Just everyone else of course.

Stuart snorts loudly.

Jake leans forward, looking at him with interest.

“Chloe?” Stuart raises his eyebrow.

Jake screws his face up in thought, quickly shifting to remembrance. “Ah yeah, okay … so I don’t fuck the staff anymore.”

Okay, so he did used to screw the staff.

I suddenly feel uncomfortable and a little sick listening to this conversation.

This is the Jake I read about in the papers. I don’t want to hear about this Jake.

“Can you let me out?” I say to him.

“Sure. Where you off to?” he asks, sliding out of the booth, letting me out onto my wobbly legs.

“Bathroom,” I answer, keeping my tone even.

I walk away heading for the ladies, trying to ignore the stares from his waiting groupies, and from Jake himself.





Chapter Eleven





We’re in Barcelona. The show is tomorrow night at the Estadi Olímpic Lluís Companys stadium.

My folks are arriving first thing in the morning. I’m so excited to see them.

Jake was all for it when I mentioned about getting them tickets for coming over here to see the show. I think he’s looking forward to seeing my dad again.

I’ve been touring with TMS for almost two weeks now, and the time has just absolutely flown by. I’ve barely had time to think let alone miss anyone, I’m with Jake pretty much all the time, but it will be so good to see my folks tomorrow.

And I’m looking forward to seeing Will in a week. I’ve spent time away from him before of course, but I think with my folks coming tomorrow it’s made me a little sick for home. For him.

I lift my bracelet up looking at it, dangling it in the light.

Picking my phone up, I decide to call him.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmurs down the phone.

“What you up too?” I ask.

“Working.”

“At this time? It’s… eight forty five there, baby.”

“I know. It’s that big acquisition I told you about, well some shit kicked off with it, and there’s an emergency meeting first thing in the morning, so I have to prepare a load of stuff for it. Good thing is it’s keeping me busy, stopping me dwelling on how much I’m missing you.”

“I miss you too,” I murmur.

“You do?”

“Of course I do silly.”

“So you’re at work…” I say putting a sultry tone on.

“Hmm.”

“And you’re in your suit?” I love Will in his suits. He looks really hot wearing them.

“I am.”

“Are you in the office alone?”

“No, Mark’s working late too.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling a little deflated. I was up for some dirty phone talk. Not like me at all, but I’m feeling pretty horny at the moment.

“Where are you?” he asks.

“Lying on my bed.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Shame you’re not alone, I was gonna … maybe … uh, talk dirty things with you.”

“I’ll call you when I’m home.” His breathing suddenly sounds short.

“How long?”

“Couple of hours.”

“I’ll be waiting … and naked,” I add, grinning to myself, feeling all confident.

“Two hours,” he confirms, voice husky.

“Not a minute more. I love you,” I add.

“You too.”

I hang the phone up with Will feeling restless and now have two hours to kill before I can talk dirty with my boyfriend.

Not exactly sex, but the closest thing I’m going to get to it with him for another week.

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