And now I’m left wondering how I never saw it before.
I’ve obviously been missing it all along. The flirting – not so innocent after all. The electrical charge I felt for him earlier – maybe not so one-sided. The serenade. Sitting close to me in the car. The lack, or actual non-existence of other women in Jake’s life since I’ve been back in it.
It’s like all of my lights have turned on at once.
My head compounds, and my stomach tightens into a thousand tight, but very delicious knots.
And I’m here gazing back at him like a rabbit mesmerised by a beautiful cobra, and any minute he’s going to strike and I’m done for.
Jake lets his hands drift back down to my hips, then he takes hold of my hand and spins me around, putting my back flush with his chest.
His large hands span my waist holding me firm against him.
And I’m trying to pretend I don’t feel him getting hard against my ass.
It’s not going so well. I’m starting to lose any rationality I may have had.
I want him. I want him so badly. I’ve never wanted someone, as much as I do him, now.
So much so, that I’m actually trying to figure out some way to have sex with Jake without it actually counting as cheating on Will.
Currently I’ve come up with the different time zone theory.
Okay, so I never said it was a good theory.
Then before I know I’m doing it, I’m moving slowly down his body, bending my knees, keeping my back flush with him, my hands feeling their way down his sides. Then I’m very slowly moving back up again.
I’m putting it down to the alcohol that I suddenly think I’m sexy and could ever pull off a move like this.
When I’m back to height, I rest my head against his chest, sliding my hands around him, holding him to me, pressing my ass against him.
I can feel his heart hammering in his chest. It makes me feel heady and like I’m suddenly in control here. I feel like I have control over Jake. It’s an insanely good feeling. Maybe sexy Tru knows what’s she’s doing after all.
Jake suddenly grasps hold of my shoulders spinning me around to face him.
His eyes are smouldering. His look is dark, and inviting.
I want him to kiss me.
No I don’t. Yes, I do.
His hand goes to the small of my back, his other around the nape of my neck, his thumb resting lightly against my throat. And we are close. Dangerously close. Our faces inches apart, as he moves us both to the music again.
My breathing has hitched up, and so has his.
Jake – a sweet dream? Or a beautiful nightmare?
Which one Tru?
A beautiful nightmare. This is Jake. This is what he does with women. It’s his MO.
Don’t screw things up with Will for one night with Jake.
Finally sense grabs hold of me. I step back from him, freeing myself from his thrall.
He stares at me wanting, confused, disappointed.
“Toilet,” I say breathless. “I need the toilet.” Then I turn on my bare heel and swiftly move through the parting crowd, heading straight for the ladies.
I lock myself in the cubicle and sit down on the toilet.
What the hell am I doing? I was so ready to kiss him then. Kiss Jake and more.
Shit.
I don’t know what I’m doing. I think I’ve just had way too much to drink tonight and I was letting myself fall into something which felt altogether too good, but is so very wrong.
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.