Jake English Novels & Stories

From then our friendship started. Anyone can ask me why I don't like him. But that's not true. I like him. I really do. I just don't like him in a romantic way. There is no doubt he is handsome. Many girls have crush on him. Even a girl who was six years younger than him, once sent him love letters for a whole year. Jake plays cello. He plays basketball as a shooting guard. He's respectful to his parents. He has his own library consists of five thousand books. He's hot. He can speak in six different languages. In my word, he's a freak. But others think, he's perfect.

"What's your name lad?" "Jake, Jake Alworthy." The spark of hope has lit back up inside me but I keep my face emotionless so he can't tell, just in case he's still not going to give me a job. "When's your birthday, Jake?" He comes around the bar and stands in front of me, looking me up and down. He's an inch or so shorter than me and right now I want him onside, so I try to make myself look less intimidating, something I've not done for years so it feels unnatural.

He’s one of the best basketball players in the history of mankind - as he modestly put it in words - just like Jake is a legend in football. “Hey, Bobbie!” I know that voice, Maggie from Dance club. Me and her, we don’t see eye to eye on things. I hate that she’s acting all highly. The last time I saw her, she was making a freshman shine her shoes and to think that it was a damn sneaker irked me more. I plastered on a smile. “Maggie, what is it?” Jack’s brows furrowed. Maybe I wasn’t great at acting at all. But it’s hard to believe when I got an A on English lit. I played Juliet once and Jake was Romeo, maybe that’s the reason I got an A.

I said, maintaining my business smile. “Okay Mrs. McCall, if that is how you want it, who am I to reject?” Jake said with a playfully wink. But his face instantly became serious which greatly surprised me. I guess like his friend, Charles, knew how to switch emotions when it was time for business. “I guess you are unfamiliar with my face but I will introduce myself and my business here properly, I am Jake Mickelson, CEO of Mickelson industries limited and we are looking forward to expanding our business which we have included Florida in our investment portfolio,” he said.

“Then you have the worst luck in the world.” I let out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s not funny.” Silence stretched between us for a moment. Then Jake said, “Let’s start with the message. I’ll try to track the sender.” I blinked. “You can do that?” Jake smirked slightly. “You’d be surprised what I can do.” “When we get back to New York, my private investigator will handle it.” “Wait—you have a private investigator?” “Yes. I do. In business, I need to know what my enemies are up to.”

she added. Laura gave her a small smile to show she understood. "We even asked Sir Jake earlier if he knows how to cook, Miss Laura," Aine said again after a while. "He said he does, and that he doesn’t have a girlfriend. You don’t need to look for another man, Miss Laura. Sir Jake is already here. He’s handsome, knows how to cook, and most of all, he’s kind. He’s kind to us too," Aine said in a giddy tone.

I click on it at once, biting my lip and trying to hide my smile of excitement. I think I remember swiping on this guy, Jake - he's a little older than me, judging by his picture, with sharp grey eyes and striking features. But that wasn't the only reason I said yes to him. In his profile, he mentioned he was looking for someone to introduce to the world of bondage. At the time, it had interested me; now, after Paulo, it is very intriguing.

“What is it that you want?” Warren shifted on his feet. “I want you to kill Devon Longshire.” Jake huffed out a laugh. “They have a word for this. Entrapment. I’m not a hitman.” “I know exactly who and what you are, Jake.” “I’m an ex-con riding with an MC,” Jake said. “My room’s not wired, I’m officially on leave. You can check,” Warren said. “I know. You’re also divorced from Marcie and you have a three-year-old daughter named Emi-Lee.”

​Before the engine could even cut out, the heavy oak front door of the main house slammed open. ​"Look who finally decided to bring the hostage!" a loud, booming voice echoed across the lawn. ​Jacob "Jake" Bill lounged on the porch railing, a half-eaten green apple in one hand and a basketball spinning effortlessly on the index finger of his other. Jake was nineteen, six-foot-one, with a messy, sun-bleached brown crew cut and sharp green eyes that always looked like they were searching for the nearest source of entertainment. He was Mike's childhood shadow—wherever Mike went, Jake was usually raiding the fridge or causing a scene close behind.

Naara turns around to find the man she saw inside the cubicle and quickly turns away. “Yes, that pervert. Damn it!” Naara cusses again. “Don’t get involved with him. Forget you saw anything just now,” suggests Hanie. “Why? Who is he?” asks Naara innocently. “You don’t know who he is? Are you sure? He’s probably more famous than the top actor in this country.” Naara shakes her head, not understanding. “He’s Adelrado Cetta Early. He just finished his Master’s Degree in International Business