Raining Down Redemption (Raining Down Series Book 2)

by BK Rivers

  I move over her, lie her back on the bed, and place my knee at the juncture of her thighs. Her dress rides up, showing off her lacy red panties, and the heat between her legs urges me on. Her fingers pull my shirt up to my shoulders, and I sit up, tossing it across the room to join her shoes. She quickly removes my belt, unbuttons my jeans, and slides her hand beneath my boxers. I hiss at the contact, jerk away, and then return my lips to hers.

  “I need to be inside you right now,” I say against her gaping mouth. “I’m sorry, but this is going to be quick.”

  She nods and scoots up to the head of the bed, gazing at me with hooded eyes. She’s beautiful with her hair askew, hanging over one shoulder. I slide my jeans and boxers off, and Reggie’s eyes widen for a brief moment. I smirk a little, knowing my chest and shoulders aren’t the only things that gained some size after we broke up. I pull a condom from the nightstand—at least I was prepared—slide it on, and climb over her.

  Our lips meet, her hands wrap around my neck and suddenly…I’m home. There is nothing hurried about this. It’s slow and tight and, good God, it’s so good. Her legs wrap around my hips. She tilts up and gasps, clawing at my back. Reggie bucks forward as I hit her just right; her teeth connect with my shoulder, and she clenches around me, squeezing until I collapse on top of her.

  I don’t want to move, don’t want to slide out of her ever again. She feels too damn good. But I do. I’m breathing heavily; my forehead is dotted with sweat. I kiss her again—her lips, the tip of her nose, her forehead. I place a kiss all over her flushed skin until she’s begging me to slide inside her again. And I do.

  Chapter 20

  Reggie

  The early alarm on my phone makes me groan in protest. Last night. My cheeks heat remembering Jordan’s touch, how he felt inside me. How is it possible for him to be even bigger than he was in high school? Not that I’m complaining—I’m sore in the best way.

  Jordan rolls over, and his arm drapes over my waist, pulling me back against his chest. His lips drag across my neck as he presses his hard length between my thighs.

  “Once more before you go?” he asks, pulling my leg over his. His hand moves up my waist, cups my breast, and he glides inside me. Heat blossoms on my cheeks, my stomach tightens, and I’m rocking against him. And then I’m there, so quickly it’s like he flips a switch, and I’m squeezing him and gasping. He pulls out and then mutters a curse before rolling over to sit on the edge of the bed.

  “I, uh…damn, Reggie-bug. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He grips the sheets while clenching his jaw.

  I sit up, pull the sheets over myself, and swallow the lump forming in my throat. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

  He moves quickly beside me, pulls me into his chest, and sighs. “No, Bug, it wasn’t you. I just got caught up in the moment and didn’t use a freaking condom. I’m clean, babe. I got tested while I was in rehab.”

  He didn’t use a condom? My heart takes off in my chest, like it’s fleeing for its life. Shit! This is exactly how I ended up with Micah. Shit! I scramble off the bed, take a deep breath, and do my best to blow it off. What’s the likelihood of me getting pregnant after one time with Jordan? I pull on my dress and slide on my shoes, all while counting out how long it’s been since my last period.

  “Um. Well, I’m sure…” The words are sticking in my throat, and they won’t budge no matter how hard I try to pull them free.

  “Reggie,” Jordan coos. He slides on his boxers and pins me with his searching gaze. “Don’t disappear, okay? I know I screwed up this morning. Forgive me?”

  Forgive him? Ha! That’s just what I need is to be the mother of two fatherless children. What does he know? Deep breath. I guess it’s not like we’re both not at fault. I didn’t say anything about a condom; I wasn’t even thinking about it, actually.

  “Sure, Jordan. It’s no biggie. I’m clean. You know, because—”

  “It’s been a long time for you, yeah. That’s not what I was talking about.”

  “Oh. Yeah, we’re good. We should be good.” Right? I find my small purse sitting next to my car keys in the kitchen. Jordan follows me to the door, leans down, and presses a featherlight kiss to my lips before I slip out the door.

  ***

  Two days and seventeen texts back and forth from Jordan, and all I can think about is his hands on me, our bodies pressed together, and how amazingly sore I was. Shortly after arriving at work, a massive bouquet of blush-colored roses arrive from Jordan wishing me a happy Valentine’s Day. My mind is gushing while I field calls all morning at work, which helps a little to keep my mind off the other thing that happened the morning I high-tailed it out of his condo. I’ve convinced myself that if I don’t think about it, nothing will come of it.

  I was supposed to take Micah up to visit my parents last Saturday, but we still haven’t reconciled after Mom tried to get me to move last month. I’m still upset about how presumptuous my mom was in putting a deposit down on a house for me. But I should call and at least try to work something else out.

  “Hello?” Mom’s voice trills on the line as though she was expecting a call from one of her best friends.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Regina? I wasn’t expecting a call from you.”

  “You have caller ID, Mom. You knew who was calling before you answered.”

  She sighs, and it’s like I can hear the wheels turning in her brain. “We missed you this past weekend.”

  “Sorry,” I say, releasing a sigh of my own. “When can we make it up to you?”

  “Your father and I have some business to attend to in Phoenix next weekend. Why don’t we come stay with you?”

  I grit my teeth and hold back the argument growing. When they stay with me, I end up sleeping on the couch since Stacey and Micah both have their own rooms. But, I might as well agree so we can move past this awkwardness. They are my parents after all, and even though they can drive me crazy, I still love them. They are really good to Micah.

  “Sure, Mom. I’ll make sure my room is all ready for you.”

  After a beat of silence, she asks what Micah and I have been up to and somehow, my stupid mouth opens up and spills that I’ve been seeing Jordan. I can just imagine Mom’s shoulders sagging as she flinches at his name.

  “You know that boy is nothing but trouble, honey. He’s not the kind of guy who will ever stick around or be faithful. You know that, right?”

  “We’re just having a good time together. I’m not looking for a forever with him.”

  “You’re not sleeping with him, are you?”

  I groan into the phone. “Mom! That is none of your business.”

  “Regina Mariquita Velasco, you already have one fatherless child, you do not need a second. Please tell me you’re being careful,” Mom says in a hurried ramble, resorting to using my middle name, Mariquita—Ladybug.

  Careful? The first three times we were. Shit. Now I’m thinking about the thing I don’t want to think about again.

  “I’m going to hang up now,” I say quickly. “I love you, and I’ll see you and Dad on Friday.”

  I end the call, flop my arms on top of my desk, and lay my head down. Where do I see this thing with Jordan going? Can I see it ending in anything but heartache? It hurt so badly when I broke up with him in high school; I seriously couldn’t breathe without gasping for air for months. But we were so good together back then. And it feels like a piece of my body I’ve been missing has returned, and it’s great. Perfect, really. Why couldn’t we work? I sit up straight and shoot Jordan a text asking when I can see him again.

  Jordan: You looking for a replay of Friday night?

  Me: Maybe…

  I didn’t mean to be quite so forward, but what can I say? Just the anticipation of his hands on me again has me squirming in my seat.

  Jordan: I’m at sound check all day, but how about tonight? Dinner, my place?

  And it’s set. Regardless of if what’s growing between us is meant
to be or not, I’ll see him again tonight.

  Chapter 21

  Jordan

  As a band, we haven’t done much song collaboration over the past couple years, and I have to say what we’re writing is really good. The sound is fresh, and it’s flowing from us all. I love writing music sober and never thought it would’ve been possible, but the music is pure and raw.

  The piano was my first love, which some may find a bit unusual. My grandparents had a small upright in their family room, and I was pounding away on the ivory keys at the age of four. By seven I could play most songs I heard—I had an ear for music. I finally started lessons, sped through the books quickly, and ended up outplaying three piano teachers.

  I love the simplicity of the black and white keys that hide the complexity under the lid. Strings, pedals, dampers, and hammers are just the beginnings that make up each individual sound. There are eighty-eight keys, and with that, an unlimited number of notes that can then be transformed into music.

  I guess in a way a piano is like a woman—touch her just right and she’ll sing for you.

  All right, I didn’t really have to go there, but it got me thinking about Reggie. I’m beginning to wonder if I’m getting in over my head with her. The last thing I want is to go all in like during high school and then have to break her heart when I leave for tour.

  Shaking my head to clear my thoughts of her, I return to the piano and the notes spilling from my fingers to the keys. Grant is setting the pace with the drums and when Eddie joins with the guitar, it’s magic. Drake comes in on the bass, and I step away from the piano to let Carson take over. He’s amazing at reading the chicken scratches I like to call notes. My head bobs to the sound; my eyes close and I feel the music deep inside. And God I feel it. I feel it all.

  I feel the memory of Reggie’s fingers as they glided across my chest and her warm breath against my neck as she cried out my name. And the music, we have it, and as the guys return to the opening notes, I grab the mic and let the words float from my lips. I sing the song as though I’m singing for Reggie and only her. This song may not be directly about her, but as the tempo slows to accommodate the emotion, I feel like every note flies from me, floats across the city, and finds Reggie, wherever she may be, landing on her sun-kissed skin and proclaiming to the world: she’s mine.

  We head to the diner to break for lunch, and Reggie texts me to see when we can meet up again, making a smile spread across my face. Apparently I’m not the only one still thinking about Friday night. I want to ask her more, ask if she remembers how my lips felt on her skin or how we couldn’t get enough of each other. But I don’t because I’ve had issues all day with my jeans being too tight each time I think about her. I swear it’s like I’m a horny teenager in high school again. Except I don’t think I was quite this bad back then.

  I make a mental note to ask Reggie since she would probably remember best.

  Jeremy and I stay at the diner while the other guys take off to grab us some more water for sound check. He’s been unusually quiet all day, and now he’s not looking at anything except his fingers, which keep balling into fists.

  “Spill it, JD. What’s eating at you?” I ask. He sighs, clenches his fists tighter, and I know something is definitely up.

  “She’s pregnant.” Something in my chest cracks open and falls to my knees.

  “She can’t be pregnant, dude. We just had sex last Friday.”

  Jeremy glances up at me; his eyes are narrowed in confusion.

  “Not Reggie. Emily.” He puffs out his cheeks and turns his gaze back to his hands. Emily? Emily. Oh shit.

  “Are you sure? I mean, how do you know it’s yours?” I don’t mean to sound like an asshole, but he doesn’t even know this chick. It’s been almost three weeks since he’s seen her, can you really know you’re pregnant so soon?

  “Dude,” he says, shaking his head. “Don’t be a jerk. She broke up with her boyfriend two months before we hooked up, and I’m the only one she’s been with since.”

  “She says that, but how do you really know?” I’m sitting here in the booth trying to picture a miniature JD running around, and I guess out of all of us, he’s the one I can see settling down. But with a chick he hardly knows?

  “I don’t feel right about demanding a paternity test at this point, so I’m choosing to believe her. Why would she lie about it?”

  “One,” I begin, raising my fingers to make my point, “money. Two, you manage White Shadow. Three, fame. Four, money. Shall I go on?”

  Jeremy’s face pales, and his eyes widen as if he hasn’t thought about this. I love this guy, and he’d give the shirt off his back in the dead of winter to someone who needed it, but I’m worried he’s getting screwed. This chick is possibly only after him for his connections, and I don’t want to see my best friend hurt.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask.

  “I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.”

  “Didn’t you put a glove on it?”

  He sits upright, shrugs, and then drags his hands over his face. “I wasn’t prepared, dude. I’m not usually the one hooking up with girls.” He glances knowingly at me, and damn it hurts a little. I don’t need to be told how much I’ve screwed up my life sleeping with dozens of girls over the years.

  “How’s it going with Reggie?” Jeremy asks, changing the subject. “I couldn’t help but overhear how well you two were getting along.” His mouth quirks into a goofy grin but fades when I crumble up a napkin and throw it at him.

  “Asshole,” I say, grinning ear to ear like a damn teenager again.

  Jeremy laughs, tosses the napkin back at me, then goes for one more dig. “I’m pretty sure our neighbors heard you two getting it on. Made it really hard to hang out with Emily and watch a movie.”

  Well, that’s news. “I didn’t know you brought her back to the condo.”

  Jeremy’s cheeks brighten. Oh. I see, it wasn’t just about hanging out.

  “She’s already pregnant.” He shrugs, finishes his soda, and we both stumble out of the booth laughing. I clap him on the shoulder and give him a brotherly squeeze. He’s as close to blood as he can be. JD is my brother in every sense of the word, except DNA.

  Chapter 22

  Reggie

  I will not stay the night at Jordan’s house tonight. This has become my mantra ever since we made plans to have dinner again. At his place. I mean, come on. Any girl knows that’s code for spare panties, because the ones you arrive in will either be torn apart or possibly lost. But I don’t bring a change of clothes.

  Because.

  I will not stay the night at Jordan’s house tonight.

  I won’t.

  I probably won’t.

  “You look great,” Stacey says as she kisses my cheek at the door. For the first time since I’ve known her, her upbeat pep seems to be fading. And I feel guilty about it.

  “Everything okay?” I ask while I check my purse for my wallet, phone, and keys.

  She shrugs, offering me a smile I can only describe as cozy. Stacey’s smiles are not normally cozy. They’re wide, welcoming, and contagious. This smile is not that.

  “Have fun tonight, okay?” She sighs before sitting down on the couch next to Micah. “Just, you know, be careful.”

  My cheeks burn in embarrassment, which is stupid because I’m twenty-six years old and should feel confident to sleep with whomever I want.

  “We’re being careful.”

  Stacey turns back to me with that same cozy smile. “I wasn’t talking about…” She mouths the letters S-E-X. If it’s not sex she’s referring to, then what is it? “Protect your heart. I think you’re playing with fire, and I don’t want to see you go through the Jordan breakup whirlwind again.”

  “That won’t happen,” I say, but then inhale sharply. “I mean, we’re just hanging out. There’s nothing serious going on between us.”

  “What you’re doing is pretty serious, Reggie, c
onsidering there hasn’t been anyone since him.” I cringe at her referral to Micah’s father.

  “That won’t happen again.” I quickly kiss Micah and tell him I love him, before giving Stacey a quick hug as well. “Love you both. I’ll be home later.”

  Stacey’s comments roll around in my head while I drive to Jordan’s condo. Am I protecting my heart? Or am I rushing toward Jordan with blinders on? By the time I’m in the elevator, I’ve chewed my nails to nothing, and my stomach is growling. At Jordan’s door I could probably pass out.

  I’m not protecting anything. In fact, I’ve let my guard down enough I’ve totally lost my armor. I’m in love with Jordan Capshaw. Again. Maybe I never fell out of love with him.

  Jordan answers the door wearing a hesitant smile and questioning eyes. His arms wrap me in a delicious hug, and I take the opportunity to breathe him in. The unique scent reminds me of summers spent at the lake skinny-dipping or hiding from the sun under the cover of massive boulders.

  “So, don’t be mad,” he says while still hugging me. I glance up at his light brown eyes as he dishes out a devilish grin and then leans close to whisper in my ear. “We have company. JD and Emily are going to hang with us.”

  We turn and I see Emily sitting at the counter in the kitchen with Jeremy pouring her a glass of water. Happy freaking Valentine’s Day to me.

  “Hey, Jeremy. Emily,” I say, setting my purse on the counter. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  Emily smiles, tucks a strand of her blond hair behind her ear, and glances at Jeremy. He smiles awkwardly back, and I’m wondering what they are doing here together. It’s obvious neither feels comfortable around the other.

  “What’s on the menu tonight? Can I help with anything?”