The Storm

“Mum and Dad are taking them.”

Tru’s mom and dad, Eva and Billy, are a godsend.

They live in LA now. I got them a house just down the street from us.

With the kids’ school and my studio being here, we’re here more than we are in the UK. Eva and Billy wanted to be closer to the kids and us, so they moved to LA a few years ago.

“What are you doing today?” I ask Tru.

“I’ve got a conference call with Vicky in an hour. Then, Belle and I are having a girlie day, pampering in preparation for our night.”

She gives me a sexy wink, and I feel it in the base of my cock, my balls tightening up.

Leaning in close, touching my chest to her shoulder, I whisper in her ear, “I can’t wait to fuck you tonight.”

Tru and I don’t get to have sex as much as we used to now that we have three kids, I have a label to run and a band to record and tour with, and Tru has her magazine.

Tru opened up an LA division of Etiquette. She and Vicky are business partners. Vicky runs the UK base, and Tru heads the US one.

So, kids and work combined don’t leave us much alone time. When we do have alone time, we make the most of it. And I intend on making the absolute most of the time we have tonight. I’ll be fucking her until neither of us can walk.

“God, Jake.” She shudders and then turns to face me, pressing those fantastic tits of hers up against my chest. “I can’t wait either.”

My cock starts to stiffen. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard—”

“Mom, can you get me some more juice?” That’s Billy.

And down my dick goes.

God, my kids are total cockblockers.

But this is our life— stolen moments with each other and permanent interruptions from the kids. Honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Tonight. You and me. Fucking hard. All night long. Don’t plan on getting any sleep,” I quietly tell her before pressing a firm kiss on her lips. Then, I take my coffee with me and head for the shower.

-Uploaded by Em's EORD-

I’m on a call with Zane, the vice president of my label, when Stuart walks into my office.

Stuart, my assistant, is basically the guy who keeps my life in order, and he has saved my ass more times than I can count. He’s also one of my best friends.

The instant I see Stuart’s face, I know that something’s wrong. I watch him approach my desk and sit down in the chair opposite me.

I quickly wrap up the call with Zane and place my cell on the desk.

“What’s up?” I ask Stuart.

He presses his lips together and exhales a breath through his nose. “I just finished a call with a lawyer.”

That’s no biggie. We get calls from lawyers all the time.

“So? What is it? A copyright lawsuit or some other ridiculous shit?”

“No. It’s…” He stops and fidgets in his seat.

He’s stalling. I hate it when he stalls because that means it’s something big.

“Just spit it out, for fuck’s sake,” I tell him.

“It’s a paternity suit.”

“Paternity suit?” I frown. “Against who?”

“You. A paternity suit has been filed against you, Jake.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I shake my head.

Then, the words sink in fast, and the bottom drops out of my perfect world. I get angry, really fucking angry. Fear and rage tear through my veins.

“That’s bullshit!” I yell. “This is just some idiot trying to get a payday! It’s impossible, for one thing. I always wore condoms. I never had sex without one.” Tru is the only person I haven’t used them with. “So, you can tell this gold digger and her lawyer to fuck the hell off!”

“Condoms aren’t infallible, Jake.”

I scowl at Stuart, and he releases a sigh. Tipping his head back, he runs his hand through his hair. When he looks at me again, I see it written all over his face—there’s more.

“There’s something else,” he says quietly. “The suit isn’t filed just against you. There’s one against—fuck, how do I say this?”

“You just fucking say it,” I snap again.

I don’t mean to snap, but it’s kind of hard not to right now. And Stuart knows me. He knows how I am. He knows I don’t mean it.

“Jonny,” he breathes the name out.

My heart stops.

“The suit is also filed against Jonny. Same woman. She’s not sure who the father is—you or Jonny.”

Jonny. My dead best friend.

“What the actual fuck? How can she file against Jonny? Jesus Christ!” Standing, I shove my chair back and it slams into the wall behind me.

“Do you remember a girl named Tiffany Slater?” Stuart asks.

Tiffany Slater. I toss the name around my head and come up dry.

“No,” I growl.

“I remember her. She was part of that group of girls in the early days. I drove her home a few times. She was sweet. Blonde hair. She stuck in my mind because…well, she suddenly dropped off the radar, stopped coming around.”

“Plenty of girls stopped coming around when they realized they weren’t getting anything more than a fuck from me.”

“She was one of the girl’s that you and Jonny used to share.”

“I don’t remember her!” I yell. “I screwed a lot of women back then! Jonny and I shared a lot of women! You know that! Doesn’t mean I knocked any of them up!” I drag my hands through my hair. “So, what? She’s claiming that her kid is either mine or…Jonny’s?”

It’s right then, right as I say those words, that the ramifications of what this could mean hit me.

If that kid is mine…

Tru.

I don’t want anything to come between us.

But…if that kid is Jonny’s, then it means…it means I’ll get a piece of him back.

I slowly sink down into my chair.

“Jonny,” I breathe out his name, my eyes meeting Stuart’s.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

I know he’s thinking the same thing.

I rub my eyes with the palms of my hands. “How old is the kid?”

“He’s thirteen.”

“He?”

“Yeah. His name is Storm.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Original.” I lean back in my chair, dragging my hands down my face. “So, why now? Why claim paternity after all these years?”

Discomfort flickers over Stuart’s face, and his hands curl around the arms of his chair. “She’s…dying, and she is the only family he has.”

“Jesus Christ,” I exhale. “What’s”—killing her—“wrong with her?”

“Cancer,” Stuart says quietly.

I stare at the wall behind Stuart. A hundred thoughts speed through my mind. The solemnness in the room is silently eating away at me.

“So, now what?” I quietly ask him.

“I call Jonny’s dad. I’m sure his lawyer will have spoken to him by now. Then, we arrange for this DNA test that they’re asking for. And I make sure this doesn’t get leaked to the press.”

“And…what do I do?”