Between The Raindrops Read online

  He fucks me hard and fast, all the while still gripping my wrists and pushing me down hard into the bed with every stroke.

  “Damn, Kit, I love how wet your pussy gets. I love how it clothes my dick like a sweater. You’re so tight.”

  “A dick sweater? Seriously, J? Is that the best you got? Save the dirty talk for someone else, you’re no good at it. Just shut up and fuck me.” A fire rages behind his eyes and he quickly pulls out and grabs me by my waist to flip me over. He grabs my long brown hair in between his fingers and pulls back on it, giving his mouth easy access to my neck.

  “Are you laughing at me?” he questions. I can feel his thick erection rubbing up and down the crack of my ass. He runs his hand around my belly and down to my clit. I gasp at his touch, I am so sensitive.

  “Nope...” I pant, “I’d never do such a thing. I said fuck me, J.” I respond in uneven breaths. I can feel an orgasm standing on the ledge and I’m cheering in my head for that fucker to jump.

  “Say please.” He eggs me on.

  “Now.” I reply and roughly push my ass back into him and wiggle from side to side. He starts rubbing my clit roughly between his fingers. I am ready to fucking explode.

  “Close enough.” He husks before slamming into my needing center. He grips my shoulder with one hand, while still rubbing my clit with the other. I have no idea how he can multitask when everything feels so good. My brain turns right the fuck off when he screws me. Everything else is on full overload, though.

  “Got... Damn... Kit... So.... Good!” he pants out, in between slams. He draws his arm all the way back and roughly smacks my ass. I explode all over him and the bed. The orgasm washes over my entire body, causing my toes to go numb. I’m probably screaming so loud that everyone in the house can hear, but I don’t care. He pulls out his still hard cock and flips me over yet again, so that I’m lying on my back. He loves to throw me around like a rag doll. But not in an abusive way. He’s just dominant and I fucking love it.

  I’m still bathing in the afterglow of an amazing orgasm when Jamison gets down on the bed and puts his head between my legs. I grab his thick hair and try to pull him back up, but he doesn’t budge.

  “No! I can’t take it. Please J.” I whine. He doesn’t give a shit, though. He continues his relentless, feels so fucking good, torture.

  “Oh, but I know you, Kit, and I know for a fact that you can take a lot more.” He purrs and sticks his mouth back down on my aching mound. He slides his tongue through the folds while flicking my clit roughly with his thumb. I latch my legs behind his head. The more he eats me, the more I get into it. I tend to lose all self-consciousness when I’m with him. I run my fingers through his hair. He moans against me and the vibrations send tingles throughout my body. I throw my head back in ecstasy and ride his face as fast as I can at this angle. He holds all of the control. He sucks roughly and released only for second intervals at a time to lightly blow on my sensitive area. I hear a voice, but I’m too distracted by pleasure to register that someone else is in the room. I feel a cold, wet sensation and my eyes shoot open in shock. Reid, our bassist, is standing next to the bed, glass full of ice cubes in hand. Jamison has one peeking out in between his lips and he’s running his mouth all over my thighs and pussy. I try to find my voice, but it’s hiding and all I can do is feel. Jamison glances up at me and smiles. He grabs another ice cube from the glass that Reid is holding and sets back to work, making me come over and again. The sensation is almost too much to bare. The warm heat of his mouth mixed with the cruel chill of the ice; perfect combination. Reid sets the glass down on the nightstand next to the bed.

  “I didn’t realize how fucking sexy you really are, drummer girl. “ Reid mumbles before placing his mouth on my breast and sucking my nipple into his mouth, I’d normally never be for this, but my mind is shut down. I reach over and start undoing his belt buckle when he gets yanked away.

  “Get the fuck out, man. Enjoy the show from the outside of the door!” Jamison yells and slams the door in Reid’s shocked face.

  “What the hell, dude! Didn’t anyone ever teach you to share?” I hear his muffled cries from outside the door. I can hear other people laughing and it makes me giggle a bit.

  “Shut the hell up. She liked it!” Reid yells in attempt to quiet them. They only laugh harder.

  “You know she is Jamison’s girl. Always has been.” The familiar voice of Jamison’s brother Jace states confidently.

  “Well, he fucks other girls all the time and I share with him when I bring a bitch back!” He’s now whining like a little girl. Jamison does nothing but shake his head in disbelief.

  “She’s different you idiot! Let’s go, give the lovebirds some privacy before my brother comes out here and whoops your ass.” Jace replies and the voices fade away until I hear the finality of the front door slamming shut.

  Jamison crawls back beneath my legs and places a light kiss on my mound.

  “Mine.” He states lazily.

  “Bullshit, Reid’s right...you fuck tons of other girls. Why am I any different?” I question him seriously. He crawls up the bed and wraps me in his arms.

  “Because I’m just having fun now, but when it’s all said and done and this is all out of our systems. I’m going to marry you. You’re my forever girl.”

  “That seems real fucking fair...not.” I scoff and stick my tongue out at him. “I’ve got to get dressed.” As much as I’d rather not move, I have to.

  “Let’s go get your sexy ass in the shower then.” He lifts me up into his arms and carries me to the bathroom, buck naked. Luckily, everyone is chilling outside, there’s no one I can see inside the house.

  We take a long, hot shower together. He washes me thoroughly, even lathering my hair with shampoo and rinsing it gently. After our shower, I get dressed and pack up the small belongings that I actually have. I tell them I’m going to visit family and will be back before they even notice. They know nothing about my family, so it won’t be hard to give them the slip. I do feel bad, though. But I have to do this. They’ll find someone else to take over on drums with no problem. Jamison gives me a longer hug than normal. It’s almost as if he knows I’m not coming back. This is the hardest goodbye I’ve ever had to do. It’s extremely off putting and confusing. I reconsider several times in my head before finally grabbing my bag, calling a cab and walking outside to wait. I can’t show them that I’m bothered or else they will really know there is more that I’m not telling them. They’re pretty good about not prying, but I don’t think they’d let me completely shut them out if they knew something was deep seeded within me. Especially Jamison. The man always knows my moods, better than the back of his hand. Jamison is the only one to follow me outside. The other guys were satisfied with my quick goodbye, but Jamison can’t get enough.

  “Good luck, Kit.” He whispers in my ear.

  “Thanks, I’m going to need it.”

  “I could go with you, you know?” he offers. When I look into his eyes, he looks a bit sad. It catches me off guard because I’ve never known him to look like that. He’s always happy go lucky. He’s always been my solid.

  “You’d be bored.” I give a small, fake smile. I try to keep things airy. Make it easier for me.

  He knows me well enough to catch the fakeness. I turn to walk away and he grabs my arm and pulls me against his chest one last time. He hugs me with his entire body and it crushes all the fear right out of me.

  “You belong with us, Kit, with me.” He runs a calloused finger through my hair and I’m instantly comforted. He makes me feel safe.

  “I’d never be bored as long as I’m near you.” I’m torn. One part of me wants to come clean about the whole ordeal, but I know that if I do...I’ll back out of it. I’ll regret not taking this chance, not helping my family. I’ll resent him.

  “Thank you...for everything...I...you...just can’t, Jamison. I’m sorry.” I pull away and my heart feels like it rips at the same time. Pieces litter the floor. As
long as a piece of my heart is with him, I won’t worry so much about the damage this may cause. I won’t feel guilty about taking on a new life. I’m just throwing away everything he has done for me over the years. I can’t even think about how much he is going to hate me. Instead, I convince myself that he’ll find someone else. We were never really a thing anyway, in my heart, but never in our heads.

  When I turn to leave, I don’t look back. If I do, I may change my mind. I get in the cab and close the door quickly behind me. I swear I hear a faint I love you just as the wind rushes past, but I don’t pause to ponder if I’m just imagining things. I look back just for a split second and he is standing in the middle of the road, hands in his hair, face in his palms. I mimic his movements, heart broken, but don’t stop. I knew in the moment of his final and very obvious weakness of slipping to me that we belong, he was aware this was it. I wasn’t coming back. I can’t believe I just left it at that. But nothing I can do now. Press on, regardless. That’s a number one life lesson that everyone needs to face. I need to do this. It’s going to be a long, thought provoking ride. The longest one of my life.

  Chapter 4

  When I arrive home, my mother greets me with warm arms. Ones I have zero recollection of embracing me in any of my adult years. After I flunked out of high school, my parents disowned me. For good reason I suppose. But I needed support. I couldn’t for the longest time figure out where the happy go lucky Nevaeh had gone. Why I was constantly listening to sad music or having suicidal ideation. I told my mother about it and the look on her face told it all. Everything that I secretly already knew. I was the crazy twin, the messed up one. The one that they didn’t want. My parents were both highly influential people in our community, held at the highest regard. They were part of the elite in our small society. My dad was working towards an ultimate goal of becoming President some day, with my mother as the classy, perfect First Lady. They both were raised into politics and that’s how they initially met. They were pretty much destined to get married. Their families, ones whom I didn’t know well now, raised them together.

  When I started to drift further away from societal norms and into my own, my parents tried everything in their power to hold me into their grasp. They forbid me to hang with certain kids, attend activities that I enjoyed and basically turned me into the very same social outcast that they tried to prevent. I started to rebel and do even more bad shit. I was just trying to figure out myself. To stand out and differentiate myself from the legacy that Heaven was already creating. Just because we looked alike didn’t mean that I should have to always stand underneath her limelight. I wanted to have just one thing that was my own. Just one thing that created my own limelight. And boy did I take that want and run with it.

  I rebelled just enough to send them over the deep end. I did something that they still to this day will never recognize as the truth. They have attempted to bury it along with their good reputation as being the perfect parents, with no luck. I fell in love and then I fell into trouble. With a boy so terribly scarred, everyone around us felt he was impossible to love. But not for me. It was so easy to find solace inside someone that could so simply understand the pain I was suffering from everyday. The depression of going unnoticed. It’s funny to me how I both want to disappear and also be the brightest one shining in the room. I’ve always been a walking contradiction. The beautiful part of life is the differences that we all have. The ever present will to choose; Pandora’s Box. Well I've chosen, just like everybody else. I choose me. I don’t have to make sense. I don’t have to fit into a mold. I just wish the people that are supposed to recognize it, would.

  But such is life. We live and then we die. I decided long ago to put my past behind me and move forward. Being here, in the house I grew up in, fills my mind with flashbacks and not all of them are memories that I wish to remember. I hug my mother back. I only wish that I felt it the way that I’m supposed to. I feel nothing.

  “Welcome home, honey.” My mother states with a shaky voice. Tears are present in the corners of her eyes, threatening to be shed. This woman rarely cried. At least never that I had witnessed.

  “I don’t know about home. But I am here. I am ready to do of me what you asked.” I am trying to hold my composure. Nothing feels okay to me right now. I’m not sure if it ever will.

  “This is and always has been your home, Nevaeh. You just never realized it.” The tears now gone. A thin, complacent line for a mouth and dark eyes left in their wake. This is the woman I most remember.

  “Glad to have you back, Mother.” I snidely remark. A bird never really changes its feathers. Sometimes they’re plucked out, though. And that is exactly what I’m doing. Plucking the feathers of those that feel as if they are entitled to fly higher than I am. I refuse to be talked down to. I will take on Heaven’s life and assist my family in keeping the reputation that is so important to them. Guilt and that alone is what drives me to do so. But I will not let my strength go in the process. It has taken me so long to build it back up.

  I grab my luggage and begin to head for the familiar staircase that leads up into my old room.

  “Where are you going, Nevaeh? You won’t be staying here. You’re going to have to leave that stuff behind. You’re going to Heaven’s house now...your house.”

  I feel my pulse begin to speed up at her words. This is all suddenly too real. I’m not so sure if I can really do this and hold it together.

  “Uhm...right.” I stammer.

  “I’ve already informed the press of the loss of our dear daughter, Nevaeh. I paid off the doctor that performed the autopsy and he clarified that they were in fact your remains. I gave him all of your information and your obituary has already been sent off to the paper. You need to do nothing else, but become your sister. Your mannerisms are nearly identical, just as well as your looks. But you’re going to have to drop the attitude. Heaven never acted like that. She was actually pleasant to be around. Tate will smell the difference from a mile away if you keep it up.”

  I should be surprised by her back to business nature, but I’m not.

  “And who exactly is Tate, Mother dearest?” I question. I’ve never heard the name.

  “Your husband.”

  My movements are suddenly stifled. I falter, “Excuse me?” I don’t even recognize my own voice. It sounds like that of a scared child. In this moment, that is exactly how I feel.

  “You mean, you didn’t keep in touch with Heaven either?” My mother hardly looks amused at my questioning. “Well, no matter. Nothing has changed. We still need to go about this the same. Your father’s career depends on it.” She appears unaffected, her normal. She walks over to where I still stand, frozen, and latches on to my bag.

  “I will dump the contents of this elsewhere. You obviously won’t be needing it. Your clothes, are at your house, in your closet.” She really missed her calling. She makes a perfect actress. Just like my dear departed sister.

  “I can’t...” I stutter. I just don’t know about this now. Having a boyfriend is one thing. I could have dumped him. Blamed it on grief. Whatever it would take. I suddenly have doubts that it will be so easy with a husband. Sadly, I am feeling worse about the fact that I never knew my sister had one.

  “You can and you will.” My mother states firmly, signaling the end to the conversation, much like the end to my former life.

  I’m upstairs in my old room, sliding in to the only black dress I own. It’s classy enough to still look like something Heaven would wear. My mother has already gotten rid of all the other clothing I had brought with me. She also let Tate know that I would be getting ready for the funeral here. Tate Montahugh, actor extraordinaire, I’ve seen him in magazines, on covers and I still had no idea that they were even together, married none the less. Now I will be sharing a bed with him. Something that many girls dream about I’m sure. But I’m scared to fucking death.

  The only thing I keep, out of reach from my mother, is a picture of the band. I lift up the
broken floorboard where I used to store all of my secrets from when I was still a kid and I place it with care inside. I will not ever completely forget the only family I’ve really ever known. While placing the photo in there, I feel the shape of a guitar pick and pull it out to examine it more closely. The words “Yours, Nev, Ever and Always.” Engraved on the outside of the teal pick. Tears instantly take residence in my eyes. Memories flood back to me, but I push them aside. I refuse to think of his face ever again, my first love. The reason my family hates me. I hurriedly put the pick back inside of its home where memories are placed and then forgotten. Much like my heart.

  When I’m finished getting ready, I look in the mirror and hardly recognize myself. The dramatic make up gone and a more subtle approach taking its place. I take out my nose stud piercing and hope that nobody notices the tiny hole. I style my hair in big, flawless curls exactly like Heaven would have. I am ready to do this. I should be a lot more happy about the fact that my life will be taking a turn for the better. I will never have to worry where I will live or where my next meal is coming from again. I will now have everything that I’ve ever been jealous of Heaven for having.

  Unfortunately, when good things happen as a product of tragedy, it’s nearly impossible to be happy about them. There is so much good that can come out of this, at least I try to convince myself of that. I have this opportunity to get closer to my family, to finally make them proud. But also I have a chance at a life of luxury. Fast cars, fun parties, and the center of attention in everyone’s world. It sounds thrilling. But what I’m leaving behind to do this is much more important to me, with the exception of doing what needs to be done so my family won’t hate me any further. I’m leaving behind a real family, Jamison, and most importantly, the real me.