Kill Devil Hills: A Complete Beach Romance Series (4-Book Box Set)

by Sarah Darlington

  “Um. Yes, I guess I did,” she breathed, her voice slightly uneven. Shit. Two words into this conversation, and I could sense her fear. Or maybe she could sense mine and was responding to it. “I remember Ellie saying you lived with only him. I think she mentioned it after the first night you ate dinner at our house. I don’t know. I was too young to remember anything else. But I do remember you ate dinner with us a lot back then. I thought you were both scary and handsome—like a vampire. Mostly, you confused me. Anyway, what does your uncle have to with which side of the bed you prefer?”

  Georgie asked that last question so confidently that, frankly, it astonished the hell out me. She had to assume something awful happened—even complete strangers could smell that sort of thing on me a mile away. And yet, even if I was frightening her, she asked it anyway. I had no choice but to tell her everything I could.

  “My uncle was a mean, physically abusive man. He drank most evenings. That meant I always slept with one eye open, fearful he might burst into my room and take his anger out on me. Once Ellie and I became friends, toward the end of my freshman year in high school, I started sleeping more nights in this room than I did in my room at his house. Your mom gave me my key when she found out Ellie was letting me stay here. Eventually I grew bigger and stronger than my uncle, more resilient to his words, and he lost his power over me. But I continued to sleep here more often than not because I still preferred it here.”

  She breathed in deeply and then slowly exhaled, her soft breath tickling my chest. I probably should have kept my mouth shut. I was sure I just terrified the shit out her. But still, word vomit, I continued talking, disclosing more than I ever had before. Even Ellie didn’t know all this—not in as much detail, at least.

  “I guess, no matter how many years pass, some small part of me still can’t fully let all that shit go. My uncle died two years back, crashing his truck into a telephone pole while driving drunk. Go figure. But somewhere deep inside me, I still have a small irrational fear that he—or some axe-murder or whatever—might burst into my room at night. It’s incredibly stupid. I know that. Anyway, so that first night you slept in the bed with me, I needed to be closer to the door. You know, in case my mean uncle’s spirit tried to come through the door and hurt you. Or maybe one of those axe-murders.”

  I chuckled at my own lame joke, making light of all my unreasonable fears.

  Georgie didn’t laugh. Instead she sat straight up, turning to stare down at me. “You’re sleeping closer to the door to protect me?” she asked. But it wasn’t really a question, more of a statement.

  “Yes.”

  She groaned and turned away from me. Her arms circled her legs and all I saw was her dark hair spilling down her bare, sexy-as-hell, back. But I couldn’t think of how sexy she was now. Not when I’d upset her.

  I was about to say something else, but she spoke again before I could. “What happened to your parents?” she demanded. Correction. Actually, she sounded more annoyed than upset.

  “My dad took off before I was born,” I answered, truthfully. “I never even knew his name. It was just me and my mom until around my sixth birthday. The few memories I have of Mom are all good memories. But something happened, something my grandma never got the chance to explain, and for some reason Mom took off, too. I lived with my grandma next. Memaw—that’s what I called her. I was with her for seven years. She was kind of crazy but sweet. She had a stroke when I was in the seventh grade. I still visit her at her nursing home a few times a year. She’s not mentally there anymore, but she gets excited to see me. So, yeah. Long story short—that’s how I ended up living with my Uncle Joe.”

  She groaned. It was an angry, fierce little noise. “I’m so pissed,” she muttered. She turned around to look at me again. Her blue eyes were beyond brutal as they connected with mine.

  “Why?” I asked. “It was my childhood, not yours.”

  I sat up, wanting to touch her but refraining. Her body was trembling—that was how angry she was by all this. Angry on my behalf. I’d thought it before, but I knew it with certainty now—she was fierce as hell when she was heated. It was a turn on, despite the seriousness of our conversation, and I had to ignore the fact that we were both currently still naked.

  “I just am,” she huffed. “I’m pissed at your shitty uncle. At your parents. And at myself. I had a perfect childhood, and I don’t think I’ve ever really appreciated that. One bad thing happened to me and I tried to kill myself. You’ve been through so much more.”

  Lightly I touched her back. “I’m okay.”

  “I know,” she said softly, calming down some. “That’s my point. Despite everything, you’re sweet and kind and incredible. You’re good, despite the bad. And I don’t deserve you. Certainly not after what I put my family through.”

  My heart was pounding. I dipped my head against her shoulder. “Don’t say shit like that, Georgie. You made one mistake. Mistakes happen. It’s called being human. You didn’t die. You’re still here. Okay? You deserve me. And you can have me—all of me. There’s something so special about you. It’s why I can’t stay away from you. It’s why I’m here now. It’s why I always want to be here. Don’t say shit like that.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, leaning into me. “I won’t.”

  I didn’t know if I’d made anything better, but as long as she remained close to me I took it as a good sign. She needed to start believing she actually was the amazing woman that I saw when I looked at her. I’d help her figure it out. No matter how long it took. And, once again, I had to ignore the fact that she was naked and how fucking sweet her hair smelled. I had to hold my breath—because I was trying to be supportive here and all I kept doing was turning into a damn horn-dog every twelve seconds with her.

  Her hand rested on my thigh. “Noah?”

  “Yeah?”

  Her fingers traced lightly against my skin, moving in an upward direction. “That protective thing you do with me…it’s sexy.”

  Oh, God.

  “Yeah?” I muttered.

  “The ‘sleeping closer to the door to protect me from any bad guys’ thing is especially sexy,” she continued. Her hand touched higher on my leg and for the smallest second brushed against my now fully-hard cock. Shit. Then her fingers moved in the opposite and much safer direction.

  “Yeah?” I choked out again. It seemed I only had one word in my vocabulary.

  Her touch trailed back up my thigh, my skin heating under her contact, and this time, as she moved higher, she connected with her target. Her small hand wrapped tight and sure around me. “You’re sexy. I’m still trying to figure everything out. But before and after that, you can have me too. All of me.”

  A growl escaped my throat. Gripping her tiny waist, I easily lifted her and in a single swift motion brought her onto my lap. I knew then that neither of us would be getting any sleep tonight.

  Perfectly. Fine. By. Me.

  * * *

  We had sex two more times that night. And the only reason we didn’t reach number four was because I was too afraid she’d think of me as some sex-crazed mad-dog maniac who couldn’t get enough. I guess I was a sex-crazed mad-dog maniac who couldn’t get enough. But in my defense, she was impossible to resist. Especially when she seemed to be as hot for me as I was for her.

  Over the next couple weeks we continued to hide our relationship from her parents. Mostly because I didn’t want to give up our current sleeping arrangement. Was it so wrong that I wanted to hold her every night? To kiss her as much as I wanted. To discuss such intimate things with her—things I never knew I wanted to share before. We weren’t even having sex in the basement room anymore. It only happened that one time, that one rainy night. The reason it stopped was because I didn’t like the idea that her parents were always under the same roof. I told her that much too. She didn’t seem to care either way and so we reserved our nights for snuggling only. Instead, we started having sex in my own room, in my own bed, in my own house. There had als
o been a few times in my office, in my car, and once more on the beach.

  For the first time in my life, I was acting like a teenager—experiencing what I didn’t have the chance to the first time around. And if this never stopped, it would be too soon.

  Unlocking the basement door, I carefully let myself inside the Turner’s house. Then I relocked the door behind me. It was after midnight. As much as I tried to keep our work schedules similar, it didn’t always happen that way. Tonight I’d worked and she hadn’t. A group of kids had pissed me off when they decided to play three consecutive rounds of miniature golf, taking their sweet-ass time, meaning I couldn’t leave until they did. Finally, their moms had come to pick them up. So when I left work, I drove straight here.

  Coming into the open basement living room, I found the bathroom light on. Georgie was more of a morning person rather than a night owl. Usually when I snuck into the house, I’d find her already curled up in bed. Seeing the light on—my stomach was in knots and my heart was racing. I rushed for the bathroom door. The worst case scenario flashed through my mind—red blood contrasting against the white tile—and I burst into the small bathroom.

  Georgie let out a startled little yelp. “Noah! Privacy!” she snapped. My girl was completely fine, completely intact, sitting on the toilet.

  I laughed, relieved. Sometimes I liked to piss her off a little just for the sake of pissing her off. I’d purposely peed in front her a couple times before. It always brought out this same, appalled reaction. But I’d never walked in on her in the bathroom, and I could tell she hated it.

  “Hey, babe,” I muttered. “I’m here.”

  “I can see that,” she groaned. “Now go away.”

  “Can I have a kiss first?”

  “No!”

  I laughed, leaving the bathroom as quickly as I’d barged into it.

  Shit. I was a lunatic, but I guess a small piece of me still feared she might try to take her own life again. It would take time for that feeling to go away completely inside me. I stood outside the bathroom door, waiting for her to finish. The toilet flushed, water ran at the sink, and the light went out. A moment later she was outside the door, smacking me as hard as she could in the chest. She was fired up, and it was sexy as fuck. I locked my arms around her and planted a kiss on her lips. She resisted me for about one second before she gave in and kissed me back, her tongue lightly connecting with mine. It sent shivers all through me. Even when we were apart for only a few hours, I always missed her.

  “Hey,” I muttered against her lips. “Sorry.”

  She moaned into my mouth, making my cock stir to life. But I’d learned how to ignore him while we were in her parents’ home.

  “Hey,” she whispered back. “I just got my period. That’s why I was in the bathroom so late. Good news, huh?”

  I breathed in. I’d recently learned—after stressing and driving myself mad for almost two weeks—that Georgie was on birth control pills. She was responsible and mature, so I shouldn’t have automatically assumed anything less. She’d been on the pill all along, but I’d never thought to ask, which was completely stupid and typical of me. We were getting better about using condoms, but since we hadn’t used one the first few times, I’d been waiting to hear those words from her.

  In truth, I actually really wanted kids. I’d never considered it before, but being with Georgie made me consider all sort of things I never would have. Having a little sassy, mini-me Georgie pitter-patter around our house one day, getting in trouble, sounded pretty perfect to me. But just because I was older and more ready for things like that didn’t mean Georgie was. There were things I wanted for her first. Like college. Or a career if she wanted.

  “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Let’s go to bed. I’m exhausted.” Swooping her up, I carried her over my shoulder toward the waterbed. It was going to be difficult not to have my way with her tonight. Tomorrow was the big day. The day we were planning on telling her parents everything. The day our relationship became something open and legit. I didn’t need anyone’s approval, but I wanted theirs. Both Ellie and Rose had easily accepted us, but somehow I knew her parents would be harder to convince. It was Sunday tomorrow, so when Ellie and I went to church I might actually get down on my knees and fucking pray. Anything to help my chances. But even if her parents weren’t one hundred percent on board, it wouldn’t and couldn’t change a damn thing. She was mine, and I was hers. Nothing else mattered.

  CHAPTER 20

  GEORGINA

  I tossed and turned all night long. No matter what I did, I could not find a comfortable position. I’d never had this problem with Noah before.

  “Stop wiggling, pretty girl,” his gritty voice whispered. “You’re rubbing up against me and turning me on.” Noah tightened his arms around my middle and held me more firmly against him. He pressed warm, lingering kisses to my neck and shoulder. After a few moments, his movements slowed then stopped. I felt only soft, steady breaths against my skin. He’d fallen asleep. His limbs were heavy and hot over my body, but I didn’t push him anywhere. The reassurance that he was there and completely not worried about tomorrow’s impending doom helped some. Before I knew it, I drifted off with him.

  In the morning, I woke to soft kisses moving carefully up my leg. The scratchy five o’clock shadow that seemed to permanently coat his jaw, no matter what time of day it was, tickled my skin. He moved higher and higher. The feel of his kisses, his warm hands, and his hot breath were all still so new and exciting—I ached and squirmed. The more time we spent together the more comfortable he was becoming at showing me all the facets of his personality. Noah was shy and quiet ninety-nine percent of the time, but get him behind closed doors, and he turned downright playful. But I had to stop him, immediately, before he took things too far. I worked my fingers into his hair and fisted my hands, forcing his eyes to focus on mine.

  “Aren’t you even the least bit worried about today?”

  He smiled. Then he moved up my body to press a quick kiss my lips. “For once in my life—no.” The water in the bed sloshed around a little as he climbed out. He reached two hands behind his head and yanked his t-shirt off.

  Hot damn.

  His chest wasn’t something I’d ever be able to casually be in the same room with. I could only stare up at him from where I laid in bed. Grabbing his bag off the floor, the one he always kept in this room, he took out a fresh shirt and it put on. He did the same thing next with his pajama pants. And if I thought watching him change his shirt was magical—watching him change the rest was equally so. My jaw dropped open. Noah didn’t even so much as flinch every time he did this. And he sure as hell liked to do it often.

  Once he crawled back in bed beside me and I recovered from my ‘deer in headlights’ syndrome, we finished our conversation. “It’s going to be fine,” he said. “No matter what your parents say or think—nothing changes.”

  I snuggled in closer to him. “I know.”

  He began drawing little circles on one of my arms. His light touch felt nice and easy, but he shocked me when he flipped my arm over and suddenly pressed his lips to my scar. Then he took my other arm and softly did the same. My heart raced harder now than it had during his little strip-tease moments ago. I cleared my throat but didn’t know what to say.

  His whiskey eyes connected with mine. Heat flashed across my cheeks. Because only vulnerability shined through those eyes of his as he stared at me for a moment. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted. “Georgie, I…”

  “Yeah?”

  He groaned. “I gotta go.”

  “Oh.”

  It was Sunday and even though he never flat-out told me what it was he did on Sundays, I was pretty sure he went to church. That seemed to fit him somehow.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours.” He moved back out of bed and started gathering up all his belongings—including the backpack. I groaned because I didn’t want him or his stuff to go anywhere. And it kind of fel
t like he was about to tell me something else moments ago. “Bye, sweetheart,” he said and bent over to press one last kiss to my lips. Then he was gone.

  * * *

  My morning sucked. Flat-out sucked. Waiting was the worst.

  I took a longer than usual shower and blow dried my hair. Lately I’d been letting it air dry instead, so this was more trouble than I was used to. Then I fussed over what to wear, burning as much time as I could as my anxiety grew. And as I sat on the floor in my room, carefully doing my makeup using my closet door mirror, Mom cracked open my door to check on me.

  “What’s going on, Georgie?” she asked. “Do you have a date or something?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Okay,” she said. I could tell she was curious and wanted to talk. But we’d be talking about everything soon enough anyway, so I didn’t elaborate.

  After I finished getting ready—ready for what, I wasn’t exactly sure. The inevitable, I suppose. I had nothing to do. I paced around my room some, but that was boring. Then I came downstairs and ended up French braiding Rose’s hair, but even after all that, Noah still wasn’t back.

  “Ugh!” I groaned out loud, smacking the couch.

  “What time is this guy supposed to be here?” Mom asked from her laptop at the kitchen table. “Is he late?”

  I glanced at the clock on the DVR. Nine thirty-two. Great. It was insanely early. “I have no idea when he’ll be here,” I admitted. “I may have to wait all day.”

  “How about you and Rose go for a walk on the beach? It’s only supposed to reach seventy-eight today. Today might be the coolest morning all summer. Go walk.”

  I was pretty sure Noah wasn’t going to show up for at least another hour or two, but was I ready to face the beach? Yes, actually. I think I was. “Okay,” I decided, even though I was probably going to frizz my freshly finished hair. “Let’s go, Rose.”