by CC Monroe
“I can’t come without it. I need it.”
His head moves up, and he takes my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “You don't get to tell me what you think you need. Now lie back and let me show you what I can do to this gorgeous body.” With that, he thrusts all the way in, the motion so fast and blunt that my bottom half leaves the bed, and he sits back to grab my hips to keep me suspended in air as I cry out at the intrusion.
He towers over me, his eyes locked on me, his bottom lip between his teeth. He tilts his head slightly and leaves us motionless as I adjust to his size. The way he's looking me over is riveting, and I feel each nerve ending in my body stand on edge.
That’s when I see it. While mimicking the same overseeing of his body, I look him over and admire each piece of art, when I see the most detailed, lifelike tattoo on his chest, on his right pec. “Nick?” I reach up and touch the green and black ink of the striking portrait of an eye. “Is that…?” My eye. “Nick, is that me?”
His jaw tightens, and he nods slowly, gauging me.
“When? H—How? How did I never notice this before? When did you get that tattoo?” He slowly starts to move in and out of me, and my head rolls back for a minute, but I don't let the pleasure completely overtake me.
“The night after I told you about my past. When I showed you my marks.”
I’m jostled into a flashback of that night.
§
“Why don't you get help then, Eric? That’s all we’re trying to do!” I run after Eric and grab his arm as he tries to leave the bus. This is my third time coming out to visit him on tour.
“I don’t want it, Kate. I like this life. I fucking love it. It’s the only life I plan to live. You signed up for this, baby, and if you love me, and I mean really love me like you say you do, then you can take me the way I am.” With that, he grabs my face and gives me a harsh kiss, and I cry against it, kissing him back but with tears running down my face.
“Eric, I do love you. Please.”
He lets me go and leaves, the bus door slamming in his absence.
“Damn it!” I yell into the bus.
“Kate?” Nick emerges from the back. I thought Eric and I were the only ones left on the buses while the rest of the band went out to see the town.
“Oh God. Hey, I’m so sorry you had to hear all that. Were you sleeping?”
“Nah, I just had a few business calls I had to make. I couldn't make it out tonight. Don't apologize. I’m sorry for all that.” I wipe away all my tears and drop my head, waving him off.
“Don't worry about it. It’s not that big of a deal. Just another binge with Eric. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Never said you couldn't. Just don't think you should have to,” he admits, and I slowly look at him, ashamed of myself. Embarrassed that he witnessed that. Nick is a really good friend, but there is something in his eyes that I never saw before tonight. When I peer up at him, he's looking at me with this expression that has my body erupting in butterflies.
“Yeah. That’s what my parents said right before they cut me out of their lives for dating him.”
“Then why stay?”
“That’s none of your business,” I retort defensively, crossing my arms and putting up a huge wall. Sure, I’m doing it because I'm mortified that everyone has seen me choose Eric over and over when they see no purpose or reason.
“You're right. I shouldn't have said a word. You want to go get something to eat?”
I’m shocked that he didn't snap back or call me an idiot or any other name that’s more than accurate and warranted. “I’m not too hungry, but maybe something small. Sure.” I’m put off by his reaction, but then again, he's older—much older—and he isn't the type to play games or purposely place himself into someone’s adolescent-like drama.
“Sweet. Me and Sade usually find hole in the wall places in whatever city we’re in. Trust it?”
I smirk, his comment breaking up the tension. “Yeah, she is good at finding that kind of stuff.”
“Agreed. Grab your shoes, kitten. Let’s go.”
“Kitten?” He's never called me that before.
“Yeah, it’s my nickname for you, dollface, so get used to it.”
“Dollface, wow. You really are a charmer. You flirt with all your one-night stands and possible prospects like this?”
“I don't sleep with random women.”
“Oh, okay,” I respond sarcastically while sitting down to put on my shoes.
“You don't have to believe me. I only sleep with women I’m in a relationship with, and it’s been a few years.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Which part?”
“Both,” I reply, righting my jeans, and retucking my white deep V-neck loose tee into a french tuck. Grabbing my leather jacket, I turn to see him looking at me, that same look I saw earlier.
“What?”
His eyes snap to mine, drawing him out of whatever haze he was in. “Nothing. Ready?”
“Yeah, sure.”
He leads the way. We call an Uber, and he uses his phone to search for somewhere to eat. I keep my eyes on the road and the town around us. The driver has music on low, but I notice he has his headphones in, I'm assuming to save himself from awkward conversation with his back-seat passengers.
I look over at Nick, and for the first time, I see him in a way I can’t pin. His hair is freshly cut after years of having a man bun. The new cut shows the straight, sharp edges of his jaw, the faint sign of a few wrinkles by the outer corners of his eyes. They don’t make him look old, just wiser and mature. The tattoos on his neck are dark, black ink forming beautiful works of art. Nearly all his body is covered in tattoos.
“There are great times. He's got something deep in him that’s still good, and I just want him to have someone who doesn't leave him. He's never had anyone like me to be by his side.” I finally break the silence. Not that I owe anyone an explanation about my relationship or the toxicity of it.
“You don't have to defend yourself to me.” He leans and taps the driver on the shoulder. He removes an ear bud. “Yeah, I just sent an address update in the app. We’re gonna eat there. Thanks.” The driver gives a kind, subtle nod and puts his ear bud back in.
“I get that, but I felt I should tell you that. It’s important to me for people to see that Eric is more than the bad choices he makes.”
“Kitten, I get it. I was him once, and I wish there was someone like you who would have seen the good in me. Instead, I had to go through some deep shit alone and cause destruction for everyone else important in my life.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to trigger anything.” I say this because his face is drawn tight.
“You didn’t.” As he says this, we pull up to a parking lot filled with food trucks. “Thanks for the ride,” he tells the driver before climbing out. I wait a minute, shaking my head, not sure what I’ll say now that I’ve made it awkward. Seconds later, my door opens, and Nick waits for me. Grabbing my purse, I climb out.
“Thanks.”
“I’m not mad. Please don't think I am. It’s just hard to talk about that.”
“I get that. That’s how I feel about Eric and me right now. Honestly, it’s embarrassing that I keep doing this with him.”
I feel his eyes looking my face over from where he walks beside me, but I don't give him my eyes.
“Why do you do it then?”
Fair enough—his question is one I ask myself many times a day.
“Because he needs someone.” I shrug, looking at the range of food trucks in front of us, trying to decide what I want.
“Yeah, himself and fucking therapy, Kate.”
“I’m like his therapy in some ways. He needs me.” I finally look up to him as my feet come to a stop. He halts just in front of me and turns so we’re face-to-face. I see the remorse for what he just said to me, but I don't comment back.
“Fuck, don’t look at me with those sad eyes, kitten.
I didn't mean to come off so harsh.”
I shake my head, reaching my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “It wasn't harsh. I get it. People think I’m crazy, but he needs my help, and I need to help fix all that’s broken he has inside him.”
His eyes storm and turn a darker color, I swear. Abruptly, he grabs my face in his open hands. “I won’t let you argue with me when I say this, and then we’re going to drop it, because I really don't want to be another person in your life who brings you more strife and heartache. But hear me loud and clear, Kate. You are not a fucking rehabilitation center for him to walk in and out of without regard for how you feel. It’s not your job to fix anyone but yourself.”
I’m left speechless. That hurt me, but it hit home, and it echoed deep within the places where I really think I agree with what he's saying. I know my staying isn't for love; it’s for him to find shelter. But the rain and the storms are breaking that shelter, beating down hard on it, and it’s starting to feel like an abandoned building in havoc, so much so that it now needs its own shelter. Nick is that haven. I have Sadie, and I have Ben, but Nick… Nick has always been this beacon of truth, and brutal at that, but he has always made me feel light in such heavy moments.
He kisses my forehead and takes my hand from my pocket, leading us toward the Korean barbecue food truck, my feet trying to pick up a normal rhythm as his words sound off on repeat in my more confused than ever mind. “I’m getting a number five. You know what you want?” he asks, and I swear I don't know how long I was zoned out for.
“Uh, yeah. Same.” I don't know what he’s ordering, but I’m more focused on the last five minutes than what the hell I'm eating.
He orders, and I turn to look for some seating. Off toward the end of the row of food trucks, I see an open table with two seats and an umbrella. It’s still up from the sunny day we had today in the town we’re in. His voice trails off as he talks to the cook, making small talk, but I feel his eyes burning into me as I walk. He wouldn't dare let me out of his sight, but I need a minute to cool off, and I know he feels that.
I take a seat and look around, watching friends, lovers, and singles on their own enjoying company of food, laughter, or a good book. “I’m not a rehabilitation center,” I whisper out into the night, a chill rising up my spine. He is right, not wrong, not mean, not cruel—fucking right. I’ve become a shell of a human who feels this need to heal all the broken, but I’m not that woman. No woman should be. But knowing me, I won’t leave, because epiphanies rarely ever find purchase on the first try. How pathetic is that, am I?
“Hope you’re hungry. These bowls are huge.” Nick sits next to me, and like word vomit, they come out before I can stop them.
“What makes you think you know or understand my situation?” I sneer, looking at him with… anger? Hurt? I don't know, but instant regret fills my stomach. “Sorry. I’m just deflecting and angry and everything you can think of with myself right now.”
“I know. But you're right. What gives me the right?” He takes a bite of his food, and I pick at mine haphazardly as I watch his jaw work and his eyes look around at the scenery I already took in.
“You know I was married really young. We talked about this. You know I have a past. But my past was just as messed up as Eric’s. Granted, I didn't have a bad relationship with my parents, and I grew up in a loving home, but when they died, I went off the rails. I was seventeen and dealing with loss for the first time.” He takes a swig of his drink before wiping his hands on his napkin and turning to face me.
Those beautiful eyes hold so much history, and he’s about to unlock it and share it with me. God, he's so damaged, like me.
“I was angry and trying to find anything to numb it. To silence that deep ache in my chest. So I found alcohol, drinking nonstop to keep buzzed for a whole day. Then weed… which tapered off too fast. Cocaine—that felt a little better. Heroin. That almost cured it.”
My breath hitches loud enough for him to hear it. “Don’t worry, kitten. I ain't shooting up anymore. Haven't for years. That’s what these are.” He rolls up the long sleeve of his Henley and there, under three thick black lines of ink, lie the faint track marks. I can’t help myself when I reach out and touch them slightly. His warm skin makes it more painful to feel. A warm shell protecting what was once broken and afraid and lonely and desolate.
“Nick… I’m sorry. I had no idea. Really.” I keep nearly petting the skin, the touch warming me and bonding me to him.
Those feelings that I worked hard to leave buried are starting to rise up from my core, to my heart, to my limbs, and to my lips. I can’t stop myself then. I lean down and kiss each line with soft, feather-like kisses.
He hisses, then growls, “Kitten, you're playing with matches, and I promise you don't want that kind of burn.” His words are a threat and a promise wrapped into a delicious and dangerous need for passion and lust. There is no denying now, especially the way his cock tents his jeans, that he feels that pull toward me. I back up fast, my hands leaving him as I turn and drop my head to look at my bowl of food, my heart rate trying to come down to a steady pace again.
Nick does the same, his fist tight on the table as he puts his head back and stares up at the sky. I crossed a line. No matter what Eric and I are going through, I can’t go there. Even if Eric wasn't in the picture, I couldn't go there. “Anyway. I met a girl, Susie. Don't laugh; Sadie already gave me shit for it. That was her name.”
I smirk. Picking up my fork, I take a bite of the delicious food, and I swear my stomach growls. “Continue.” The moment between us is still there, but we both do our best to ignore it.
“Well, she and I got together, and it was tumultuous, and we were all wrong for one another. But we had passion, and our sex was incredible, and at eighteen, that was just as good as heroin. So we got married, and it went to hell in a hand basket.”
Him mentioning sex with her makes me seethe inside. I’m not a jealous woman, even over Eric, but right now, I feel violent with it.
“But we couldn't fuck all day every day, so I started selling all her expensive trust fund gifts from her parents that they used to bribe her to leave me with, and one night, after she told me I was scum and useless and would never amount to anything, the cocaine and heroin that should have killed me overtook me. I went black, no idea what was in front of me, beside me, or behind me. I raged and I hit her, hard.”
No. He isn't that person. This isn't real. I don't believe what I’m hearing.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, and his eyes squeeze shut. “The next day when I woke up, I was behind bars, my head was pounding, and I had a restraining order against me. I hit my wife. I hit a fucking woman, because the high was more important than my life, her life, and our life together. I was there where he is, and I couldn't get better until I was ready.”
I clear my throat past the lump in it. “Do you still talk to her? Susie?”
“Yeah. After years and years of sobriety, I reached out and asked her to forgive me. We are friends now, but Kate, that doesn't take away what I did or make it forgivable.”
I nod. How awful to be so young and lost like that. To do the things he did because of the drugs. I couldn't imagine, but he changed. He turned it around, and I have to believe Eric will.
I prepare to ask the question I am both hanging on the edge of my seat for and dreading all at once. “Why didn't you two get back together? Why not try again?”
The soft breeze around us could have stopped with the look he blasts me with. He looks me up and down, and it’s as if I could feel his hands touching me, roaming and exploring my body with enough passion to sedate a person.
“Because she isn't the one I want.”
I gulp, looking him directly in the eye, and we both share that electricity. “Oh.”
This changes everything.
Chapter Ten
Nick
We both see that night flash between us as I adjust to her tight, warm pussy. Fuck. I haven't be
en in a woman in years, much less a woman like Kate. Exotic, wild, and burning with passion. She never noticed my tattoo before, and now she has. If my cock inside her, claiming her in a time when she needs me most didn't tell her what she is to me, her tattoo on my chest definitely does.
“In your eyes, I find my soul,” she whispers, her fingertips grazing over the ink. “You loved me this whole time, didn't you?” The same green in the eye on my chest peers up at me, but they are clouded with tears.
“Yes.”
It's all I can say. I don't have anything else I can give her but the raw, unfiltered truth.
“You're my salvation, Nick.” The tears fall, and the weight of the world falls off her shoulders. She sobs, gut-wrenching sobs as everything that has happened finally hits her. Years of pain and confusion and heartache drown her. I go to pull out to comfort my woman, but she stops me, tightening her legs around me.
“No. Please. I love you, and I have ached for you for so long. I need you right now. To heal the hurt, to take away this guilt—this terrible fucking guilt.” She places her hand over her heart and claws at the skin.
Leaning in, I kiss each tear away as they make their way out of those beautiful eyes. “Don’t feel guilt over us and needing me this way during a time like this. I’m yours, and I’m here to help you.”
“Because I’m not a rehabilitation center anymore?” The words I told her all those years ago are now coming back, and they are hurting her more than ever.
“Kitten, stop. Take a deep breath.” I move us then; I turn on my back and pull her down on my chest, hers against mine.
“He’s gone and I’m here, giving in to the feelings I’ve had all these years. And I feel awful, because when everything should be hurting and not making sense, it’s perfectly clear. You make perfect sense.”
I sit us up slowly, making sure her chest stays against mine, our body heat keeping each other warm.
“Use me. Use me like you need, Kate. Forget the world around us right now, and take what you need from me.”
She nods, her lip caught with her teeth, that tiny gap between her front teeth so damn sexy. Tears have reddened her face and left a trail, but she has never looked more breathtaking than she has in this moment.