The Mighty Storm (The Storm, #1)

“I do.” I smile at the memory.

In the early days – the bad days when Jake’s dad was still around, he started staying over at my house regularly to get away from him, and even after his dad was gone, Jake still carried on staying over; by that point it had just became our thing.

“My dad put a stop to that when we were about eleven though, if I remember rightly,” I add.

“He always was a smart guy. I wouldn’t have left me alone in bed with you if you were my daughter either.”

“Even when you were eleven?” I laugh.

“Even when I was eleven.” His voice is suddenly thick with inclination.

I feel a shiver deep inside my stomach, which quickly heads downwards, settling in-between my legs.

I turn onto my side so we’re facing each other. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

I know that’s a really intrusive question, but I’m little drunk and I don’t care, because I want to know if he ever slept with anyone back home before he left for America. I always thought I knew everything about Jake back then, but after he left and he cut me off, I started to think maybe not, because the Jake I thought I knew would never have left me like that.

He stares at me for a long moment. I wish I knew what was going through his mind.

“Sixteen,” he finally answers.

Even though I got the answer I wanted, I still feel a sharp stab of jealously.

“Who was she?”

“No one … someone who should have been you.”

Whoa!

He reaches his hand up and runs his fingertips along my jaw. My skin hums under his touch.

“I had such a crush on you when we were kids,” he murmurs.

He did? Holy fuck.

“You’re a bit late telling me now,” I smile weakly.

I’m nervous. So very nervous.

“Am I?”

I knew this moment would happen when I danced with him at the club. The moment he climbed into my bed.

Maybe even subconsciously, I knew it would happen the very first moment I saw him standing there in that hotel suite for the interview.

I’m trying to remain calm but my insides are going nuts. My heart is pounding in my chest.

“No,” I whisper. “You’re not too late.”

He traces his thumb over my lower lip. I gasp at the feeling.

“I’m calling in one of my birthday presents, Tru,” he says softly. His eyes look opaque, heavy with desire.

“What do you want?” My voice is quiet, trembling.

Propping himself up on his elbow, I tilt my head back as he looks down at me.

He pulls my hair free from its knot, running his fingers through it.

“You.” He moves his face close to mine, staying a breath away, waiting for his invitation.

“Happy birthday,” I whisper.

He pulls in a breath, then very slowly, not taking his eyes from mine, leans in and kisses me.

My body and mind explode with sensation and feeling. I’ve never felt anything like it before.

I’m lost to him.

All these years of wanting him and wondering, and he is so much more than I could ever have imagined.

My fingers snake into his damp hair, holding him to me.

“Oh God, Tru,” he groans in my mouth. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” There’s such a ragged need in his voice, it makes me tremble all the way down to my sex.

“Me too,” I breathe.

With a moan, he continues his gentle assault of my mouth with his tongue.

He tastes and feels even better than I ever dreamed he would. It’s like waiting years and years for the present you have always wanted, longed for, then unwrapping it and finding it’s so much more than you ever imagined it could be.

Will is far, far from my mind, and I couldn’t stop this even if I wanted too. And I don’t want to.

We’re tangled up in each other, kissing, deep and passionate, and for this moment, in this darkness, there is only me and him in the whole entire world.

Jake pushes the duvet off me, rolls me onto my back, laying on top of me, resting up on one arm so not to crush me.

I run my hands up his tattooed arms and over onto his bare chest, tracing his skin with my fingers.

He breaks from our kiss and stares down at me for a long moment. Then he places his hand on my chest, over my heart, and very slowly, moves it down, his fingers tracing over my breasts.

My heart is thumping.

His fingertips skim my stomach, moving around the hem of my vest.

Nervous, but wanting him so badly, I reach down and lift my vest up, inclining slightly, I pull it off over my head, tossing it to the floor, I lay back down. I’m not wearing a bra, and I’m obviously feeling really brave thanks to the alcohol in my system.

Jake’s eyes roam me, devouring me.

“You are so beautiful,” he says in a low voice.

Beautiful? He thinks I’m beautiful.

He leans down and kisses me again, hard and deep, almost like his life depends on it. He puts his hand on my breast, gently tracing his thumb around my nipple. It instantly hardens under his expert touch.

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