Page 59 of The Encore Effect

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe, the circle of his embrace suffocating rather than comforting. She slid out of his hold and padded into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind herself. She couldn’t think with his skin against hers.

She should call Derek to discuss what to do about Jackson. This kind of thing surely fell into the clause in her contract about notifying the label of any medical or safety issues. It was one thing when she only had her own suspicions, but after last night… Would the label help him get treatment if it interfered with the last leg of the tour? Would he agree to go even if they did?

But she didn’t want to call Derek. She couldn’t bear the idea of betraying the trust of Beckett’s early morning confession. He’d never forgive her, not when he was so sure he could help Jackson on his own. And there had been no need for medical intervention the night before. Not even a scratch to tend to, as Gideon had assured her after checking on Jackson. So maybe she didn’t need to tell Derek anything.

And maybe, now, Beckett would let her help, too. Maybe together they could convince his brother to seek treatment and the label never needed to be involved at all.

Kat brushed her teeth, hoping the minty toothpaste would help calm the nerves ricocheting around her stomach. She’d just set her toothbrush back in her toiletry kit when there was a soft knock on the bathroom door, the door cracking open before she could answer. Beckett peered through the opening, bare-chested, his eyes darting about, forehead creased.

When his gaze met hers in the mirror, his eyes fell closed and he ran a hand over his mouth, exhaling deeply. “I thought you were gone,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.

“Still here,” she said with a tentative smile.

He hesitated, his eyes sweeping over her in her sleep shorts and tank top, and for a moment she thought he might close the door again and go. But then something shifted in his expression, a determined set to his jaw despite the wildness in his eyes, and he pushed the door open fully, stalking towards her where she leaned against the counter.

“Did you—”

He crashed his mouth against hers, swallowing her words. His hands plunged into her hair and held her where he wanted her as he bent over her and kissed her breathless. She melted into his touch, her arms wrapping around him, fingers pressing into the rolling landscape of musculature across his back. He kicked her feet apart and slid his knee between her legs, holding her captive between his body and the counter as he licked into her mouth. The hard muscle of his thigh pressed against her core and she sighed as pleasure surged through her, hot and urgent, demanding more.

Beckett dropped his hands to her sides, gripping beneath her arms and lifted her onto the counter as he stepped between her thighs. Still, he didn’t slow the pace of his kisses, drinking down every involuntary noise that fell from her lips as he kissed her like he used to. Like he was desperate for her. Like he needed to kiss her as much as he needed to breathe.

She scraped her fingernails along his back and he hissed, dropping his lips to trail hot kisses along the length of her throat. “You taste the same,” he whispered against the hollow of her throat.

Her heart squeezed in her chest and she slid a hand into his hair, holding him close. “So do you.”

He gripped the hem of her tank top, the fabric bunching in his fists as he began dragging it up her torso. Kat placed a hand over his, halting his progress. “We said we wouldn’t do this,” she said, stopping herself before she could say the rest—unless this means something. Unless you’re mine for real.

His nostrils flared and his grip on her shirt tightened. “You said.” Her brow furrowed in confusion. “You said no touching unless absolutely necessary.”

She wet her lips, scooted closer to him on the counter. “Because it isn’t supposed to be real.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he cuffed her throat with one strong hand, using the pressure of his hold to tilt her face up to him. His touch seared her skin, as if the phoenix on the back of his hand was actually on fire, flames licking at her throat. “It’s real. It’s always been real.” His kiss was bruising, a deliberate dance of lips and tongue and teeth. “And touching you—” he broke off on a swear and kissed the curve of her jaw, the tender spot beneath her ear, “—it’s fucking necessary.”

She kissed him as he lifted her top, only stopping long enough to let him pull it over her head and toss it aside. He cupped her breasts, groaning as they filled his hands, his thumbs skating over her stiff nipples. She shivered beneath his touch, icy sparks racing across her skin with each new kiss he planted on her body. Hooking her feet around the backs of his thighs, she tugged him closer, rocking against the thick length of his erection, the outline visible through his sweatpants.

“Tell me it’s real,” he demanded, pinching her nipple until she gasped at the bright burst of pleasure pain.

“It’s real,” she said, arching her back to give him better access.

He took the movement for the invitation it was, dipping his head to capture one furled peak between his lips. God, how she’d missed this—missed him.

He lifted his head to meet her eyes as his hands curled around the waistband of her sleep shorts. “Yes?”

“Yes.”

In one movement, he pulled the shorts off her, tossing them in the corner, and gathered her against him again. His hands roved over her thighs, her hips, her ass, as he kissed her. She tugged on his waistband and felt his cock kick against her. With a greedy groan, she slid her hand into his sweatpants and gripped the hard length of him, his flesh hot and heavy in her grasp.

“Slow down, love,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle, lips against her temple. But she didn’t want to go slow. She pumped her hand over his erection, heat gathering low in her belly at his answering groan. “Luna, love, you’re going to make me— Fuck, baby, it’s been a long time.”

“For me too,” she said, slowing her strokes.

“Yeah?” He rocked his hips into her touch, dropping his hand between her thighs to stroke over her seam, gentle, deliberately avoiding the place where she wanted him most. “Want to make it good for you.”

“You always do.”

He grinned, that boyish smirk that made her heart race even more now that there were small crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Might be quick this first time,” he said, “but I’ll make it up to you.” He slid two fingers into her heat with shallow thrusts as his thumb found her clit, pressing firmly against her. “Can’t stop thinking about how fucking sexy you looked playing with your toy. How badly I wanted it to be me inside you.”

“I wanted that, too.”