by BK Rivers
Chapter 26
Reggie
Everyone should go swimming in a heated pool after a full body massage. It relaxes your muscles even more than they already are, and when paired with Jordan Capshaw, let’s just say I plan on somehow making this a regular event. As we swim under the waterfall, Jordan pulls me to his chest and guides me to a seat that blocks us from any intruder’s view. He stands between my legs, his hands on the bench seat on either side of my thighs, and his gaze locks on my eyes. His breathing is labored, and my heart rate spikes.
I know this look in his eyes, the hooded gaze with dilated pupils. I know what he wants, but I don’t know how far he’s willing to go to get it. My fingers glide over his sculpted shoulders, down his arms, and rest on the ledge where I’m sitting. His lips twitch as we draw closer. Our foreheads nearly touch, the tips of our noses only a hair’s breadth apart, and neither one of us moving to close the miniscule gap. His breath floats onto my lips, teasing like a dandelion puff, and my eyes close involuntarily. Our skin doesn’t touch, but this feels strangely more intimate than anything we’ve ever done before. It’s like an intense form of foreplay, leaving both of us breathless and so hungry for what’s to come.
We touch without so much as a brush of skin, but this non-touch is so much more. So much better, like the anticipation of Christmas morning, just knowing I’ll get to unwrap him later. If I weren’t sitting, totally encompassed by him, my legs would have trouble holding my weight. I am a ball of hungry nerves, frazzled, zapping at our nearness, and fighting the urge to break this tension.
“Reggie-bug.” Jordan’s breath escapes in the form of my name. The nickname he gave me so many years ago, the one I tried desperately to forget. The one I want to hear spilling from his lips for the rest of my life.
Jordan’s lips brush against mine, and my eyes flutter open as I inhale the kiss he’s offering. His mouth is like a caress; it’s giving and allowing something greater to grow between us. There’s no burning fire to douse, no intense hunger or lingering desire to strip our swimsuits off and make the water around us stir like rapids in a river. There’s just love. I feel it deep in the pit of my stomach. I feel it in the way each kiss is like a question, like he’s asking me if I love him as much as he loves me. The words aren’t spoken; right now they don’t need to be, because I feel them. And that hits me like a giant bag of bricks.
I can’t continue to keep Micah a secret. I should never have kept him a secret.
My hands push against Jordan’s chest, breaking the best kiss I’ve ever experienced. His head cocks to the side as he quirks his lips into an uneven grin.
“Come on,” he says while taking my hand from his chest. “Let’s get ready for lunch.”
Yes. Lunch will be a good distraction. Maybe I’ll come up with the right way to tell him the truth.
After we’ve both showered and dressed in the room, we drive into Sedona and stop at an eclectic set of orange adobe-stucco buildings. We’ve come for the Mexican food, but as we walk by the little shops I demand a shopping trip after we’ve eaten.
Inside the restaurant, we’re immediately greeted with the scent of tangy limes, sizzling fajitas, and fresh salsa. It makes my mouth water and my stomach growl just thinking about the food I’ll be inhaling soon. We’re seated near a water feature in the center of the large room, which is unique in that there are several large koi swimming in the shallow indoor pond.
“This place is amazing,” I say between bites of amazing tortilla chips and salsa. The spice and tang of the tomatoes is addicting.
“What are you going to have?” Jordan asks as he folds his menu on the table.
“The filet fajitas, they sound amazing.” I smile just thinking about my lunch. “How about you?”
“Carne Asada burrito,” he answers quickly. “I pretty much order it wherever I go. I like to keep track of my favorites so when I’m on the road I know where I want to eat.”
Bricks to head, stomach falling to my knees. Again. It’s like somehow we’re in this bubble, and no one around us knows Jordan is the lead singer of White Shadow, one of the most popular rock bands in the U.S. And in this bubble, I can pretend he’s all mine, and we can live this perfect, happy life like two normal people.
But we’re not in a magic bubble. And there never will be normal for us. Not if he continues his music career.
“You okay?” Jordan asks as he reaches across the small table, threading his fingers through mine. “You seem distracted.”
I want to laugh, blow it off and tell him everything is fine. Better than fine. Good, in fact. But it really isn’t good. Or fine. I’m kind of going back to freaking out a little. But I can lie. I can pretend I’m good, that we’re an average couple spending time together in a beautiful restaurant in gorgeous Sedona. I can pretend for another thirty-six hours that I don’t have a son at home who knows nothing about this man I’m with. I can pretend everything is fine.
I smile, grip his hand, and make myself believe this lie. “I’m having the best time with you.”
After lunch we visit the little boutique shops near the restaurant. Our hands are linked as we wander the small spaces, admiring the sculptures and touristy t-shirts. At one store I can’t resist a prickly pear hand lotion, and I buy three small tubs of it. Jordan laughs as the teenage girl behind the counter focuses on the lotion while placing it in the bag. Her cheeks are bright red, and judging by her initial reaction when we walked through the shop’s door, she recognized him. At least she isn’t throwing herself at him.
Next on the agenda is a Pink Jeep Tour through the red rocks. I’ve never been but have heard it’s something everyone should experience at least once in their lives. We head to uptown Sedona, meet our driving specialist, Keith, and prepare for the tour. Keith is a twenty-something, long-haired, tanned guy who looks like he belongs on the beaches carrying a surf board. He explains the tour, and Jordan and I hop in the back of the 4x4 Pink Jeep and buckle in.
The landscape is so different from Phoenix—deep red rocks strategically placed one on top of the other, or maybe leftovers from lava slides that cooled in jagged layers. The cacti and other desert plants give almost an herbal scent to the fresh air. We stop off at the first scenic sight, Submarine Rock, climb a little, and take in the site around us. I feel like I’ve stepped onto another planet, Mars maybe. It’s breathtaking, and I snap a few photos with my cell phone camera.
Jordan steps behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, and drags his lips over the shell of my ear. Goose bumps alight on my skin as I shiver against him.
“Having a good time?” he asks, snapping another picture. I nod, and then Keith calls to us, beckoning us back to the Jeep. We make our way through the well-worn Jeep trail, and I squeal at the lurching of the Jeep a couple times. At one point, when the Jeep appears to be heading down a forty-five degree angle, I squeeze my eyes closed and pray the Jeep doesn’t flip end over end on the way down the rugged trail. Jordan’s laughing and urging me to open my eyes the entire way down the path, but I keep them firmly shut. There’s no way I want to witness my death if it comes by way of a Pink Jeep Tour.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Jordan says as his arm wraps around my shoulders when we’re back in uptown Sedona. I tense at his touch, but relax into his warmth, knowing I’m finally safe and back on solid, smooth ground.
“Yeah. I’ve gone once and never have to go again,” I mutter.
Keith beams back at us and assures me this is the only off-road tour; the others are much tamer. I ball up my fist and punch Jordan in his bicep, meeting hard muscle. He feigns injury and then jabs his fingertips into my ribs, tickling me.
We grab a quick dinner before heading back to the bed and breakfast where Jordan showers off the dust from our Pink Jeep Tour. Knowing I won’t have a chance to talk to Micah later on tonight, I call my mom’s cell to talk with him. When he answers the phone, my heart stills at the sound of his young voice.
“Hi, Mom,” he says. I can tell
he’s slightly distracted, because there are long pauses after each tidbit of conversation.
“Are you behaving for Grandma and Grandpa?” I ask as I sit on the corner of the bed with my back turned to the slightly open bathroom door. I try to speak quietly so Jordan won’t overhear.
“I wish I was in Flagstaff instead of here at home,” he says with an exaggerated sigh.
“Next month we can go visit the chickens and play at Grandma’s house.”
He sighs again, practically breaking my heart. “There’s nothing to do here at home. All Grandpa wants to do is watch the news, and Grandma won’t stop cleaning.”
What? My place wasn’t dirty when they arrived; I made sure of it. My hand clenches around my cell while I try to rein in the bitterness my mother always brings out in me while she tries to run my life. I take a deep breath and skip right over it.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’ll go out, just you and me, okay?”
“Okay, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too.” My heart stutters in my chest at how sad my little boy sounds. Why can’t my parents leave well enough alone and spend time with their grandson? They are great up in Flagstaff, but apparently at my house they ignore him.
“Who was that?” My head jerks around so fast to see Jordan wearing only a towel, leaning up against the doorjamb to the bathroom. His eyes are trained on mine, and there’s something like hurt in his features, or maybe it’s accusation. My jaw drops as I lower my gaze to the phone in my hand. My brain has left the building, people. Think of something, anything.
I clear my throat as the blood rushes to my chest and cheeks. “How long were you listening?” Great way to reassure him, Reggie—by the stricken look on his face, he’s offended. “It was just Stacey.” I throw out a casual laugh, sliding off the bed and walking towards Jordan.
“Do you always tell Stacey you love her?”
Actually, we do—a lot. I nod and then trail my fingers down the plains of his chest then up over his shoulders. “She’s feeling a little left out with how much time I’m spending with you.”
Jordan grabs my hands and brings them down between us. He dips his head, leaning ever so close, and says with a goofy smirk, “I don’t want you telling anyone you love them unless it’s me. Got it?”
Yep. Loud and clear. Gulp.
Chapter 27
Jordan
Reggie’s asleep next to me after two marathon rounds of sex, and I should be sleeping too. Hell, she wore me out. There were hands everywhere, lips and tongues and…
I turn my head and watch as her eyes flutter in a dream. Yep, she’s definitely asleep. Well, damn. I’m apparently ready for round three just thinking about the way her hips rocked into mine.
Instead, I slowly climb out of this bed with its army of blankets and sheets and head into the bathroom. A cold shower is in order. Or maybe a hot one followed by a cold one.
I let the water cascade over my shoulders and down my back as my thoughts drift to the phone conversation I overheard earlier. Who is she going out with when she gets home? Who is she saying “I love you” to? Those words ripped a hole right through my chest, and even though she’s in my bed, she felt distant tonight. Like a part of her was wishing she was somewhere else. With someone else. What kind of messed up shit is that?
I hit the tiled wall with the fleshy part of my palm, clamp my jaw, and allow a groan of frustration get lost in the cave of my mouth. I don’t need to wake her up, not when I’m trying to patch this hole in my body with lavender-scented soap bubbles.
The bathroom light flicks off, temporarily blinding me. The shower curtain rustles, and soft, warm hands wrap around me from behind. I reach up to position the water spray over us both, and turn around into Reggie’s arms. My eyes have adjusted to the dim bathroom, allowing me full access to the shape of this perfect body in front of me. She’s always been petite and thin, but the years that have passed between us have added some subtle curves. Her hips are slightly fuller, and her breasts a bit larger and not as perky. Even her stomach, which was once flat and taut, has a little bit of meat to it, though still taut. I love the changes. I love that she looks like a woman. I especially love what she’s doing with her hands and the bar of soap.
“You were already ready for me,” she says, gazing down at her hand and the suds she’s lathered over me. She pumps and squeezes, and I can’t stop the grumble in the back of my throat from escaping. Her hand feels damn good. Before she can finish me off, I pull away, tear the bar of soap from her hand and lather it up in my hands.
“Let’s see how ready you are,” I tease as my hands explore her curves. She responds with subtle noises of her own that make all this nearly too much to handle.
“Now, Jordan,” she says, turning her back to me.
“Bug, I don’t have a condom in here.”
Reggie pulls back the shower curtain, reaching for something. Satisfied with what she retrieves, she turns and glances up at me with a wide smile overtaking her face. In her hand is a small, square foil package. “I came prepared,” she says, tearing the package open and sheathing me.
She leans toward the wall, bending over just enough, and I’m a goner. Our bodies join like it’s the most natural thing in the world. We fit together as though cut from the same piece of wood, like we’ve been carved into a matching set.
Her hands are splayed in front of her on the wall; mine are greedy and travel her body, looking for the undiscovered places on the way to her heart. Because I want that. I want her heart. Her body. I want her love more than I’ve ever wanted anything else in this world. She breaks away, separating our bodies, and turns around. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes so dark it’s like I’m gazing into a pool of oil. Her hands reach behind my neck and clasp together as her lips crash into mine.
I pull her body close, lifting her under her legs and carry her to the bed where I can pour out all the love I feel for her. I want her to catch my heart, because it’s climbing up my chest, pushing its way through my throat and barreling through my lips onto hers. I hope she’s ready, because nothing can stop it. It’s there, waiting for her to take it. Waiting for her to accept what I’m offering. I smooth the damp hair from her face, gaze at the woman beneath me on the bed, close my eyes, and give it to her. One. Breath. At. A. Time.
“My heart’s waiting on the tip of my tongue for you, Reggie-bug.”
Her eyes flicker to mine; she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as tears begin to line the rim of her lower lids.
“I love you, and I need you to take it, Bug. I need you to hold it close, because I’m not sure I can keep it inside anymore.”
Three. That’s the number of tears that slip down the sides of Reggie’s face before she swipes them away. A sigh slips through her mouth as she brings her lips to mine. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I know my heart is in good hands. This woman has always held my heart in some way.
“I love you too, Jordan. I love you so much sometimes I think I’m crazy. Or that you being here with me again is just a whacked out dream I’ll wake up from in the morning.” She sighs, squeezing me tighter before releasing me. I move off her, prop up the pillows against the headboard, and pull her between my legs. She relaxes against me, fitting perfectly again like my missing half.
After watching a movie until late in the night, we sleep in until after ten—so much for eating breakfast here at the bed and breakfast. Instead, we shower, dress, and pack up. Within minutes, we’re at the main house checking out. Margot greets us with a knowing smile, pats Reggie’s hand, and offers a polite smile as she hands me a coupon for my next visit. I’ll come back next weekend if I get to spend it with Reggie. I’d come back tomorrow.
We drive up the road and grab a quick bite to eat before heading back to the valley. Our hands are linked together over the center console, and each time Reggie absentmindedly brushes her thumb across the back of my hand I’m reminded she loves me. I gave her my heart, and she took it. It’s there on the r
edness of her cheeks. I did that. I put that blush there, and damn if it doesn’t look good on her.
I squeeze her hand and sneak a glance at her once again. She’s gazing out her window, slowly bobbing her head to the music playing softly on the radio. Every once in a while her lips move as though she’s singing the words, though no sounds spill from her mouth. My focus is back on the road until she breaks the silence.
“I don’t want this weekend to end,” she says, puffing out a breath.
Instinctively, I veer the car to the right and pull off to the side of the highway. We’ve only been on the road for about thirty minutes, and I’m right there with her. I don’t want our time together to come to an end either.
“What are you doing?” she shrieks at my sudden stop. Three cars whiz by us before I throw open the car door, quickly close it, and jog around to her side. I pull her door open, lean inside to unbuckle her seatbelt, and drag her out. The air is brisk, immediately bringing out the goose bumps on Reggie’s arms. “Jordan?”
My hands rest under her jaw as I bring her face to mine. “These lips belong to me and no one else,” I say as my thumb traces over her plump bottom lip. She nods, smiles, and then I take what I want. My tongue slips through her lips, earning a satisfied sigh from my girl and several honks from passing cars. But I don’t give a damn who sees us making out along the side of the freeway. I’m staking my claim and letting everyone know.
