Free Hitting the Right Note by Rhonda Bowen Page B

top of her head gently, she lifted her face and returned the affection with a kiss to his lips.
    And then he was kissing her, parting her lips gently with his, drawing her into him with every caress of his mouth. JJ couldn’t resist the sensation, didn’t want to stop his hands as they traced a path down her back, slipped under her shirt to stroke her flushed skin beneath. The argument with Sydney had turned a bad day into a terrible one. And that just topped the ongoing conflict with her mother and the unexplained guilt she felt for disappointing Simon Massri, a man she had met only once in her life. Nothing in her life seemed to be coming together the way she wanted it to, but this moment felt good. This moment with Rayshawn, who had been with her through all of it; who understood her more than her family or friends; who wanted her—who wanted to be with her—who had chosen her. This moment with this man was enough.
    And so when he lifted the hem of her shirt and slipped it over her head, she let him. And when his fingers began to undo the buttons on her jeans, she didn’t stop him. And when his hands hooked under her thighs, easily lifting her off the floor and up the stairs, she wrapped her arms around his neck and let it happen. Because that early morning, in that moment, when everyone else in her world had tossed her aside and rejected her, there was still one man who wanted her.
    And never had it felt so good to be wanted.
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    The ceiling fan whirring overhead was the first clue to JJ that something was wrong. She did not have a fan in her bedroom. The hand draped across her bare stomach and the realization that she was not in bed alone was the second, and definitely more startling, indicator that JJ had crossed over into foreign territory.
    Panic rushed in to fill the void that familiarity had left behind.
    What had she done?
    She looked over at Rayshawn, whose head rested on the pillow next to hers, and her stomach clenched. Bolting from the king-size bed in alarm, she wrapped the sheet around her and dashed into the bathroom. She sat on the closed toilet seat, the vague soreness in her nether regions confirming that this was in fact not a dream.
    She had slept with Rayshawn. Even though she had sworn she wouldn’t, she had broken her promise of celibacy to herself and to God.
    She covered her face in her hands as waves of guilt and despair washed over her. They were right. They were all right. She had changed. And she wasn’t even sure who she was anymore. She tried to hold back tears as she sat hunched in the tiny room. What was she thinking? How could she let herself slip like this? She didn’t remember if they had used a condom. What if she got pregnant or got something worse? And where were her clothes?
    A knock on the door broke into her thoughts.
    â€œJJ?”
    She wiped her hands hastily over her face. She would not let him see her cry over this.
    â€œBabe, I know you’re freaked out about this,” he said gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”
    â€œNo!” That was the last thing she wanted to do. Especially with Rayshawn. She needed to leave. Now.
    She opened the door and found him dressed only in a pair of jeans, holding a mug of hot cocoa. He was smirking.
    â€œI knew you wouldn’t want to talk about it.” He handed her the mug and kissed her on her forehead. “I know you’re mad at yourself. But these things happen. Don’t beat yourself up over it. And you don’t have to worry about me disappearing like some other guys. I’m not going anywhere.”
    His words brought a tiny bit of comfort to JJ, but not a lot. No matter what Rayshawn said, it would never justify what had just happened.
    JJ looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “I just want to go home. Can you . . .”
    â€œGet your clothes?” he asked. “Sure. Enjoy your hot cocoa.”
    He squeezed her arm before walking out of the room. JJ