Reaching for my shirt, he rips it open. The buttons scatter, pinging across the piano, hitting the floor.
Jake pushes the shirt down my arms. Taking over, I free it, tossing it aside.
His hand moves over my breast, tracing the edge of the cup of my bra. He runs his finger in and over the tip of my nipple. The gentle contact makes me gasp.
His hand leaves me, only to push his pyjama bottoms down, freeing his erection.
He nudges it against my sex, his eyes burning into mine, filled with a hurt I don’t understand.
“Jake…,” I whisper, but he cuts me off, crushing his mouth to mine. He tears my panties off and thrusts his hungry cock inside me.
I cry out in pleasure at the sudden invasion. Jake grabs a tight hold of my hips, pinning me where he wants me, and he starts fucking me. His mouth on my neck, teeth biting, tongue licking, soothing.
With each hard thrust, the keys on the piano groan their own frustrated, chaotic chord. I can feel him trying to get deeper in me, pushing against me, almost desperate to find his escape, while my sounds of pleasure echo around the library.
“Lie back,” he growls in my ear.
My bare back hits the cool piano at his command. I can barely feel the chill because I’m so absolutely taken with Jake. Watching the hunger and need for me that’s consuming him in this moment. There is only him and me. We’re our own island, and nothing and no one can touch us. And I know it’s exactly where he needs to be right now.
Jake lifts my legs higher, pulling me closer, and the instant he touches the spot in me that only he can, an orgasm tears through me.
But Jake’s not done, as he continues to chase his own climax, fucking me, hard and rough. His teeth grit, jaw clenches, eyes burning with hunger, the moonlight silhouetting him, and in this moment he has never looked more sexy to me.
When he meets his moment, throwing his head back, his face tight in release, he drives his orgasm out, hips jerking against me, pumping himself into me, and I come again, pulsing tightly around his cock.
“Fuck,” he says as my muscles relax around him, us both trying to catch our breath.
He leans down, resting his chest against me. His head on my breasts, he stays inside me.
I trace my finger around the shell of his ear, listening to his shallow breaths, feeling the lingering frustration in him like it’s my own.
“Talk to me,” I murmur.
He lifts his head, resting his chin on my breast. He stares into my eyes.
“Let’s go to bed.” Rising, he pulls out of me carefully.
Jake reaches a hand to me and eases me off the piano. He keeps hold of my hand all the way back to our bedroom.
Removing the clothes I’m left with—my bra, skirt, and hold-ups—I grab one of Jake’s T-shirts from the wardrobe and put it on.
When I return, he’s already in bed, so I climb in beside him and snuggle up to his warm, hard body.
He exhales heavily, and I feel his hot breath brush over my skin.
“Jonny’s mom called while you were out.”
So this is what’s eating at him. This is why he just fucked me so desperately on the piano.
I tilt my head back to him. “What did she want?”
He rubs his hand over his hair, and stares up at the dark ceiling. “She saw the press release about Smith joining the band.”
“Oh.”
His eyes meet mine in the darkness. “I hadn’t called to tell her it was happening.”
“How did she take it?”
“She yelled. She cried. She’s hurt, and she has a right to be. I fucked up. I should have told her. I didn’t think. I hate that I didn’t. I feel like such a fuckin’ bastard.” He shakes his head. “She said I’m heartless and selfish…”
“No, Jake, no…”
“She’s right. I am. But she said…” He takes a shaky breath. “She said I was replacing Jonny. That I’d forgotten about him. That putting Smith in the band is erasing Jonny from it, that I’m acting like he never existed. She said Jonny would never have done that if it had been me who had died. And she’s right. He wouldn’t have.”
“That’s bullshit.” I move around onto my front so I can talk directly to him. “She’s wrong.”
I’m trembling on the inside with the anger I feel. I know she lost her son and is grieving, but she has no right to hurt Jake this way.
“I don’t think she is, Tru.” He shakes his head again, looking away. “But I haven’t forgotten him.” His voice is so quiet, as his eyes return to mine. “How could I? But I’ve just been so happy with you and the baby…when I asked Smith to become a permanent member, it was purely a business decision. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. Least of all Jonny’s parents. But I should have called.”
Sitting up, I straddle his waist and trap his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. I can see the hurt glistening in his eyes, and it makes every fibre of me ache.
“You listen to me, Jake Wethers. You haven’t got a malicious bone in your body. Yes, you made a mistake by not calling, but I think even if you had called, she would have reacted the same. She lost her son and she’s still angry and hurting about that. But she’s wrong when she says that you’re replacing Jonny. You’re not. If you’d forgotten him, then the show you’re doing next week to officially bring Smith into the band, well, you wouldn’t be donating the proceeds to a charity that provides support to people affected by car accidents, and their families, would you? You’re just doing what’s right for the band now. That’s what Jonny would want, and would have done, if he was in your shoes.”
Jake’s chest expands on a breath. He closes his eyes, his head gently shaking.
I know I’m not reaching him. This isn’t going to fix it for him. I know it’ll eat away at him. That’s Jake. The Jake only I know.