Loving Kate Beckett (The Loving Series Book 2)

by CC Monroe

  “Take what you need,” I repeat, and slowly she starts to rock her hips, a choppy rhythm but it feels just right. “That’s it, baby. Feel it, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s us. It’s safe here.” She starts to go faster, her slim thighs doing a lot of hard work. I don't let my eyes leave hers as we connect mind, body, and soul.

  “Help me, please.” Her voice cracks, and she whimpers when I grab hold of her hips and slowly lift her up and down my long, thick cock.

  “Say it again, Kate.” I bite my bottom lip and pull her down slowly, fully seating her on my cock.

  “I love you, Nick. I always have. Ohh!” It’s a cry she lets out, and it spurs me on.

  “I love you too, kitten. Fuck, you need me so bad, and it turns me on,” I growl, picking up the pace.

  “Your words, your touch, your love. It all eats me alive,” she moans, and I thrust upward ferociously, but it’s just what we both need. Gripping her hips tighter, I pound her down onto my cock, and she screams out.

  “Nick!” Throwing her head back, her breasts thrust into my face, and I take those freckled, sun-kissed tits into my hungry mouth. I nip and tug with my teeth at her hard nipple, and her body shivers. Her thighs tremble and shake, and I know she's about to come.

  “You can come if you need, baby.” I watch with hooded eyes as she rides my cock, my tempo and ferocity driving her to the edge of ecstasy.

  “I need more. I need you. Everything,” she cries, and I groan.

  “You need harder?” I flip us again and pound into her.

  “No. I need you to…. Oh my God! Oh my God! Fuck! I need you to come!”

  “No. Don't ask me to do what I can’t.”

  “Why? Nick!” I keep a relentless pace, hard and pronounced.

  “Because I can’t stop, and I want to make love to you like this for hours. You don’t think I can, but you have no idea what I can do to this tight little body.”

  “So you aren’t—oooh— aren't going to let me come?” Her eyes lock on mine, and my brows furrow.

  “Yes, baby, you will come. A lot. Whenever you bless me enough to take you, I will make you come over and over. I’m a very insatiable man. There hasn't been a woman yet who could handle this. But you….”

  She drops her forehead to mine. “I haven’t… I haven't come in forever. He hardly ever let me… come.” She sobs, not from hurt but the intense pleasure she hasn't had in years. I internally seethe but keep it in. This isn't about him or what they did or didn't have. This is about us.

  “I want you to come while you take this cock, and you will say my name over and over again. Understand?”

  She drops her head and brings her forehead to mine. “Yes, I understand, Nick.”

  “Good kitten.” Reaching between us, I pause as she slowly rides my cock, and we share an intimate look before I pinch her clit. Detonating around me, she does as she's told as she bears down on my cock.

  “Nick! Nick!” The walls are shaking with the weight and volume of her climax. But I don't come yet, knowing I’m nowhere near done with her. This was animalistic and emotional fucking. Next, I will lay over her and go soft and slow and comfort her the way she needs.

  “Breathe, you need to breathe. Enjoy your pleasure.” I can tell she's holding back, and with my words, she lets out an audible breathy moan.

  “Oh God.”

  Bringing my hand up the curve of her spine and into her hair to get a good grip, I pull gently so I can bite and suck on her gorgeous neck. “There it is.” Her heat is deadly, and if I didn't still want to make love to her tonight, I would come right now. I could come now. But I won’t.

  “You are so fucking deadly.”

  “I love you.” I’m surprised she said these words tonight, and part of me knows there’s a chance she will regret them and all of this tomorrow when the dust settles. But for right now, I’m going to sear this moment and memory into my brain and remember that at one point, the woman I loved for years loved me back.

  “I love you, kitten. Now lie back. It’s my turn to take you like I need you.”

  “And how is that?” she asks with a sweet smile, her breath still trying to catch up.

  “Slow, sweet, and long.”

  And I did. I made her come more times than she could count, and when I was finally ready, I orgasmed with such ferocity that I’m sure I had nothing left to give. I didn't just come tonight. I gave away a part of me that no one has ever touched before, and if the sun rises and she regrets us, then at least I will have this memory to keep. Tonight may have been about her and being what she needed, but the reality is that it was all about me too.

  §

  My alarm goes off, and I reach over to the nightstand to stop it before it wakes Kate. She needs sleep, and I don’t have any plans to wake her up.

  We leave for tour tomorrow, and that means if she regrets us, I'll have to force her on the road and live with her hating me for it. The likelihood that she would come with me is very low, even after she readily agreed to, and there is still a chance she’ll open those beautiful eyes and never want to see me again.

  Slowly untangling myself from Kate, I look her sleeping form over for a long moment before I climb out of bed. Heading to the bathroom, I start the shower. I already have a text from Ben.

  Ben: Press got wind. His death is out there. Warn Kate. Sadie says to keep her away from any form of technology.

  Me: Thanks, man.

  I release a breath and look myself over in the mirror. My hair is a disheveled mess from love making and restless sleep. My beard needs a trim, and I could go for a weeklong coma.

  Ben: Yeah. Any word on what’s going on?

  I know he means about what will happen with Eric.

  Me: No family or next of kin, he had a will and it was for Kate. We talked last night and she chose to have him cremated, and they’re supposed to call when he’s ready to be picked up.

  Ben: This shit can’t be real. I can’t believe this is happening.

  Me: I know. I’m just worried about Kate, and I know you and Eric had a close friendship. I’m sorry for the loss, brother.

  Ben: I know.

  Me: Need anything, I’m here. I can be there when you need me, man.

  Ben isn't the type to lean on people when he's going through things. To think—this could have been him if he hadn’t found Sadie. Ben was headed down the same path not too many years ago.

  Ben: Nah. Sadie and Melody are here, and I just want to be surrounded by them today. Hate to change the subject to this, but is the replacement you hired a week ago ready for the tour?

  Me: Yes. He’s ready. Don't worry about any of that. Be with your family and let me do my job.

  I start brushing my teeth as steam fills the bathroom, and I hear a noise in the bedroom. I finish up and step into the doorway, leaving the water running.

  “Oh, okay. Thank you for getting it done so quickly. Yes, I can be there to pick up his remains.” Kate sits on the side of the bed with her back to me, her phone to her ear. I felt that statement in my bones. Dammit. “All right, thank you. Goodbye.” She ends the call and stares at the phone in her hands. “I’m sorry, Eric. So sorry,” she whispers.

  I don't move, letting her collect herself. She cries, not the heavy sobs like the night before but soft, quiet heartfelt whimpers. I decide to give her space. I don’t want to overstep, and I know Kate, know her moods, know when she needs time to herself, and this is one of them. As much as it pains me to walk away, I do. Heading back into the bathroom with heavy feet and an even heavier weight in my chest, I make work of getting cleaned up. The whole time, I'm thinking of the other broken half of me, the woman in the other room.

  Today is the day after, and I know this is going to be the hardest one yet. I should be weary, but not in this very instance. The only thing I feel and the only thing I want to do is be there for her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nick

  “You ready to do this?”

  Kate found me as I was g
etting out of the shower, and she asked me to hold her for a long while. So I did, in the middle of the steamed-filled bathroom. She cried, mumbled under her breath, and then cried some more before she asked if she could take a bath alone.

  I feel selfish to say that it hurt. That’s when I began to worry that she was starting to regret the night we shared, but she hasn't mentioned it, and I don't plan to either. Today, we pick up Eric’s ashes, and I do media and damage control. Kate, the band, as well as Sadie, and I will clean out his apartment, and I will be on the sidelines waiting to gather up my woman when she needs me.

  No one says much. Just the occasional “Where does this go?” and “Should we toss or keep this?” Other than that, it’s nearly barren in the apartment. Kate assured me she was ready to come here after collecting his ashes. A simple yes as her fingers gently caressed over the burgundy wood in her hands. That wood caught her tears the entire way over, keeping her focus, and I didn’t interrupt. Grief’s gravity can’t be beaten, but with time and will, one can move on. Watching Kate today had me questioning if she had any will at all.

  Nothing prepares you to watch the woman you love crumble over the loss of someone she once loved in the way you hope she would you. My grief is silent, but it’s just as heavy.

  §

  Kate

  “Hey? You okay?” Sadie pulls me from my spiral down a rabbit hole of pain, regret, grief, and every other emotion on the human spectrum.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” We picked up Eric’s ashes today, and I swear I can still feel that box sitting heavy in my hands, even though the box is down in Nick’s car. Then add all of his personal items that I’ve sifted through as we pack up his things—his entire life in a few boxes—and one might as well have doused me in cement for how much weight is on my shoulders. The entire day is so damn heavy. It’s burning and clawing at my heart. My soul is weeping, my body is exhausted, and my mind can’t help but go over the past forty-eight hours.

  Eric is dead. Those words send a chill up my spine. I haven’t said it much out loud, but in my mind, I’ve said those words a thousand times. For what? Hoping it would bring him back so we could save him? So he could meet his future child? So he could just simply be again?

  Whatever the reason is, it doesn’t make it any easier to vocalize. Now every moment, each breath is focused on where I’ll go from here. Eric will never know he was a father. He will never get to meet him or her. Maybe they would have been the one thing to finally save him.

  Mentally, I kick myself, getting my mind on a different path. I’m hurting so deeply under the surface, and that pattern of thought will just add salt to the wound. Instead, as Nick and I head to his car after locking up the apartment, I lose myself in the memories of when Eric’s flesh was still warm to my touch.

  §

  “Eric?” Walking into the apartment, the silence I’m used to isn’t there. Instead, I hear music playing, and the smell of parmesan and garlic fills my nose.

  “Kate, baby? In the kitchen.” Eric’s voice travels through the apartment. Placing my bag down on the small table next to the door, I toe off my shoes and make my way toward the kitchen. Soft music plays, some song by Lewis Capaldi. I’m not used to this scenario. The apartment is freshly clean, there is a heavy scent of linen and vanilla from the candle, and neatly folded laundry on the couch. But the thing I’m least used to is Eric’s upbeat mood. Rounding the corner, I’m met with the sight of Eric cooking. I’m not sure what it is, but seeing him barefoot, dressed in casual clothing, and without a high in his eyes makes me emotional.

  Water pools in my eyes, and I have to make a quick attempt at concealing those tears. Spoiling this rare moment would be both a shame and a devastation. Eric’s been trying to get sober the past few months, and this is the first time I’ve seen him in weeks. Between rehab and then the first week of the tour, it's been impossible.

  The last time my eyes saw Eric, his were bloodshot, and he could barely remember my name as Ben, Nick, and I said goodbye to him at the rehab center.

  “Hey. Welcome home.” My voice cracks. I clear my throat and plaster on a smile, hoping he didn’t hear that.

  “I missed you.” Hurrying to pour the spaghetti into the strainer, he finishes and turns, wrapping me in his arms. “You look fucking sexy.”

  His sudden movement throws me off balance. Placing my hands on his chest, I steady myself. “I—I missed you too. What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like? I’m cooking my girl a meal after over a month of being away.” He smiles innocently.

  I hesitate then, not sure if I should say what’s on my mind, scanning his face over, my eyes bouncing back and forth between his. We have been here before, him sober—not exactly this type of sober—candles, dinner, and all. But we’ve been down this path before, and I don’t have it in me to get trapped in the black hole again, and that's all the gusto I need to say it.

  “Last time you saw me, you said you wish I would stay away and stop trying to make you a person you weren’t. I believe the words you used were I was more toxic than the drugs you take.” This has those errant tears appearing again. My heart physically hurts, restricting in my chest at the memory.

  Eric has an arsenal of crude, demeaning, and downright harmful insults to steal from when he’s high, but that hurt the most. All I want to do is help him. I just want him to accept love and be willing to give it back. Instead, he sees me as another reason for taking the venom.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about that. It was wrong and fucked up. I know that now.”

  “Now? You didn’t know it every other time you’ve said awful things to me?” I push against his chest softly, trying to untangle myself from his grip. My emotional state is already being occupied by him, so there’s no need for him to invade the only thing I can keep safe.

  “No, I didn’t mean it that way.” He chuckles, and that fuels me on.

  “This isn’t a damn joke, Eric. I’m not just a punching bag who can bounce right back after a blow. I’m a person who loves you, and you treat that like it’s a free pass to hurt me.”

  His jaw tics, his eyes telling me those words hit a nerve. I prepare for his anger, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he approaches me with softness in his hoarse, deep voice.

  “You’re right. I have one thing in my life that’s good for me, and I fuck it up every time. I know I do, and I know you deserve better, and that's why I’m trying. I keep trying, because I want to be something in your life that’s good too.”

  “Fuck, Eric….” I trail off, pinching the bridge of my nose. That’s heavy ammo to use in this war.

  “I know we’ve been here before and it failed—”

  “Multiple times,” I remind him, cutting him off.

  “I know,” he concedes. “But you’re still here, and I’m still trying, so that has to mean something.”

  I hesitate. He isn’t wrong; in fact, I’ve asked myself a million and one times what it is that keeps us here and come up empty handed every time.

  “And if this time isn’t different?” I cross my arms and shrug.

  “Then I’m an idiot, and I won’t blame you for leaving me.” We stand still, the song playing becoming louder from our silence. Gracie Abrams’s “I miss you, I’m sorry” starts playing, and if we weren’t in such a serious moment, I might have laughed. Maybe Alexa is listening and she’s sending us her own personal kiss-and-make-up playlist.

  “Dance with me.” He breaks the silence, waving the white flag first. I hesitate, knowing what it means if I put my hand in his outstretched one.

  “I miss fighting in your old apartment, breaking dishes when you’re disappointed. I still love you. I promise.” That line of the song makes up my mind for me and takes control of my body. Slowly, I step into him, placing my hand in his. The soft smile on his face is innocent and one of relief. Eric knows what it means by me giving him another chance. To him, it means I’m strong and willing, but for me, it means I’m more confused and lost than the time
before. But in his arms as we start to sway to the soundtrack of our broken life together, I feel hope. Stupid, naïve hope, but I feel it and revel in it.

  “Don’t make me regret this,” I whisper against his chest.

  “I won’t. You’re worth fighting this, Kate.”

  I close my eyes, those words planting in my heart a seed of forgiveness. I let the tears fall. The man I love is still here, and so am I.

  §

  “Where are you at in there, kitten?” Nick squeezes my knee. I face him inside the car, giving a soft half-smile. Truth be told, I didn’t want to stay lost in that memory, and his voice is the only one that could make me feel comfort in this moment. His hand is resting on my knee, the soft circles of pressure his thumb is moving on my skin bringing me warmth.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Is that okay?” I place my hand over his. I don’t want to come off as rude, he’s just trying to be here for me.

  “You don’t have to say anything until you need me. I’ll be right here.” I don’t deserve his patience or kindness, but I don’t turn it away. Selfish as that sounds, I need it.

  “Thanks.”

  Nodding, he keeps his eyes focused on the road, his hand squeezing my knee in a subtle response.

  We pull up behind Ben and Sadie at their home a short few minutes later. Releasing a deep breath, I look over at Nick. We don’t have to say anything. Instead, he gives me a nod and brings my hand to his lips and leaves a kiss. Stepping out, he leaves me there. As if he read my mind, he gives me a moment to breathe and break on my own. This can’t be easy on a person, especially Nick.

  He’s always been there when I’ve fallen apart. I can’t recall a time when he has ever let me dissolve without standing beside me. So for him to know I need it and respect it, that speaks volumes. Even though my heart is broken, there is still a small beat humming for him. I love this man, and maybe in time, I can let myself feel that and explore it deeper. But I need to grieve. Nick deserves better, not half a person with enough baggage to fill up an ocean.