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

by Sarah Darlington

  I’d never been with a man and I suddenly needed to know what the fuss was about. Truth be told, it was secretly something I had on my bucket list. Nate West—or Nathanial—was a prime beefcake candidate to help me check that one off the list. Hey, I’m all about trying everything at least once. So hell yes, I followed him into that bathroom.

  Airplane bathrooms are not made for sex. They are way too impossibly small, especially when you shove someone like Nate West into one of them, and I had no clue how we were going to accomplish this. Just getting the door closed with both of us inside proved difficult. I felt like Clark Griswold.

  “Oh, hell,” I muttered. “No…you stand over there.”

  We squeezed around each other—me trying carefully not to touch him just yet. But not touching was impossible. I ended up with my ass sitting on the sink counter and he ended up with his back pressed against the wall in front of me. My hands had nowhere to go but to settle against his sweatshirt covered stomach, while his hands rested on my jean covered thighs. I stared up at him, breathing like Darth freaking Vader, because even through layers of clothing I could feel the steely muscle he had going on underneath his sweatshirt. Seriously, what the fuck am I doing?

  And then suddenly we were both cracking up, laughing loud enough to get us in trouble with that damn flight attendant. What the hell were we thinking? Only very tiny, incredibly skinny people could pull this off.

  “Have you ever done this before?” I said, snorting through my laughter. “Please, tell me no.”

  “No, never. Not on a plane at least.” He had a smooth voice. Deep and very soothing. Obviously, Lucian had that same voice, but there was something about hearing it spoken in person that I highly enjoyed. “Are you regretting coming in here with me?”

  Gazing into his dark, dark eyes, I forgot what was so funny. His lashes were black, thick, and I liked the way they framed those eyes. His scar cut close to one of them and I wondered how he got it. “No, surprisingly I’m not.” I shrugged. “And it’s not because you’re a celebrity either. Sometimes in life—very rarely, I might add—you meet someone and you know instantly they’re going to mean something special to you. The same exact thing happened when I first started hanging out with my best friend Noah. Now, obviously, he’s a dude and I’ve never even considered having sex with him, but we clicked so organically and so flawlessly that I swear we were always meant to be friends. I’m feeling something similar with you right now. It’s bizarre. I never knew the feeling could be duplicated and in a non-platonic context. Shit, you have no idea how much I wish you were a girl.”

  “Have you really never had sex with a man before?” he asked, incredulous.

  I shook my head. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I haven’t.”

  Nathanial’s large hand was surprisingly tender as his finger began tracing little circles against my right thigh. It shouldn’t have felt as pleasant as it did. Or maybe it should have been awkward, but somehow it wasn’t. “I can’t just fuck you in this bathroom, Ellie. I thought I could…but I can’t.”

  “Oh.” Surprisingly enough, I was disappointed.

  “But I would like to kiss you.”

  Before I could even comprehend what he was doing, he cupped his large hands around the sides of my neck and pressed his lips to mine. My eyes fluttered closed and I let it happen. It was a strange sensation—because he was so much bigger than me. I was used to delicate and smooth, while he was rough and powerful. Then again, despite the scratch of his unshaven face, his size, and the strength of his hands on my neck, the only word that could describe his touch and kiss was…gentle.

  Incredibly gentle.

  Sighing into him, my mouth opened to his. The first brush of his tongue against my tongue was feather-light, but I felt it in an intense shudder that rolled over my entire body and ended in a concentrated ache between my legs. Dammit. What in the name of the Holy Ghost was that? Sparks? Electricity? Magic? The pot of gold at the end of a rainbow? I broke away from his kiss, pulling back and staring up at him.

  “What the hell?” I whispered, baffled at my body’s response and his ability to give it to me.

  His eyes opened and an easy, arrogant smile came to his lips. He knew exactly the effect he had on women. And now, apparently, on me too. “Yeah. I know,” he said, pleased and way too sure of himself.

  Whatever. This was a one time, one moment kind of thing. I wasn’t going to waste it feeling embarrassed or being annoyed with his male-pride-machoism. I was going to take advantage of the small—or big—gift that the airplane gods had bestowed upon me. And his name was Nate Freaking West.

  “I want more,” I gasped, returning my lips to his. Losing myself to this moment, I kept kissing him. Nothing else seemed to matter except the press of his tongue against my own and the sweet taste of his mouth. And he didn’t seem to mind either. In fact, his kisses grew greedier and a little less restrained. My heart raced harder and harder as I grabbed his sweatshirt and pulled him in closer to me.

  I wanted more. I needed more. And it became increasingly apparent, judging by the very hard length of him now pressing crudely between my legs, similar thoughts were exploding through his head too. And this damn throbbing that had built between my thighs needed some serious relief. Now. Kissing suddenly wasn’t good enough. I wanted to cash in the offer he’d made. I wanted to have a quickie in this airplane bathroom. I wanted to know why I was feeling something for him when I’d never felt anything like this for any man before.

  Taking hold of the bottom of his sweatshirt, I yanked the gray material up his chest. His muscles were too bulky and I really had to wiggle to get him and his big head free. But I managed. Then I tossed the tattered, old thing aside. The dude surely had money to burn—you’d think he’d own nicer clothes. But whatever. I kind of liked that he wasn’t decked out in Armani or Chanel or whatever it was rich people dressed in.

  After the sweatshirt was gone, he made quick work of removing the t-shirt he wore underneath. Hot damn, he had a fantastic chest. Tan and chiseled and not for the faint of heart. Seriously, I bet when he worked out at the gym he induced self-esteem issues in all the other guys around him.

  Breathing as evenly as I could, I traced my fingers adoringly up and down the hard lines. Tits were beautiful and all—but so was he. I bent over and kissed one of his perfect, brown man nipples. Shit, he was gorgeous. I pulled back to look at him. “Take off your pants,” I ordered. “I want to see the rest of you.”

  His fingers lingered on the button of his jeans. “What’s happening?” he questioned. “Are we doing this?”

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “You really want to lose your virginity to a stranger in a bathroom?” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip then his teeth sank into that lip. His eyes were dilated and set on me. His breath came out in choppy exhales and inhales. In this moment, he exuded the same dominate intensity Lucian had in spades on his show. This wasn’t acting though; at least, it didn’t feel that way to me, and the level of lust rolling off him made my knees feel weak. But despite my body’s physical reaction, I wasn’t a weak woman. I was assertive and strong and when I wanted something I went after it. And I wanted him. More than I’d ever wanted anyone or anything before. And I always got what I wanted.

  “Once again, I’m not really a virgin,” I told him confidently. “I’ve probably been with just as many girls as you have. Maybe more. I’m kind of picky and relationships never last long with me. So—” Placing my hands on either side of his face, I drew his head down closer to mine. “Don’t say the word virgin again or I might break something off. But yeah, this is exactly the way I want it to happen. I’d take this over candles, rose petals, and champagne any day. And twice on Sundays.”

  That elicited a smile from his full lips. “You might be the most unique woman I’ve ever met. And I’ve been with plenty of woman too…as I’m also extremely picky.”

  “Nobody wants to he
ar about that shit,” I joked, giving him a shove. “Rule Number One. Don’t brag to a woman about all the other women you’ve been with right before you fuck her. Trust me on this one. I can take it, because I’m cool like that, but for future conquests…just don’t.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Okay. Noted. Even though you sort of did the same thing to me.”

  Um? He kind of had a point, but I wasn’t about to admit that. Instead, I forced the smile from my lips and then shook my head at him. “Just shut the hell up and take off your pants already, Nathanial.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Okay. Maybe I wasn’t as confident as I liked to think I was because the moment his fingers unhooked the button on his jean, slid down the zipper, and let his pants fall to the floor—everything inside me changed. He pressed the gray cotton of his boxer briefs down and his erection sprang free. Like something out of a dream, or possibly every lesbian’s worst nightmare, it looked just as powerful and strong as he was. And equally as intimidating. Reminding myself to breathe, I stared down at it jetting into my space. Because, hell, I’d never actually seen one in real life. And that one appendage left me feeling gooey and vulnerable inside. Especially vulnerable—because I wanted to touch it and feel it sliding in and out of me. And I wanted it to happen while he kissed me and whispered sweet Lucian things in my ear. Did that make me a total girl?

  Oh, God.

  Swallowing, I shifted my gaze to his. I think he could tell now that I was full of shit and had been blowing hot air at him all along. But instead of calling me out or making a joke about it, like I half expected, something about him changed too. His cocky demeanor went soft, matching the softness I now felt in my chest.

  “Can I take off your clothes now, firecracker?” he asked gently, sliding the back of his hand down my cheek. His eyes searched my eyes.

  I could have told him “no” if I’d wanted. But I didn’t.

  I nodded, practically ready to beg.

  His hands didn’t move right away to do as he’d asked, instead he inched closer and pressed little lingering kisses along the side of my neck. It was sweet and kind and totally not Lucian behavior. It was boyfriend behavior. And that scared the shit out of me. But what scared me infinitely more was how much I liked and wanted it.

  Suddenly there was a loud knock against the door. “Excuse me. Hello. Is everything okay in there? Are you ill?”

  It was the flight attendant—interrupting.

  Thank the airplane gods. Because I don’t think I was as ready as I thought to screw a man’s brains out in a bathroom. “That bitch,” I whispered, trying to act like my normal foul-mouthed self. But the truth was…I was relieved.

  Nathanial pulled back. He was fully naked, aside from his pants around his ankles, and I was fully clothed. How awkward was this scenario? I avoided eye contact with him and turned my head to shout at the flight attendant.

  “Yeah, my contact is folded and stuck in my eye. It hurts like a mother. Do you have any contact solution?”

  “I wasn’t born yesterday,” her sharp voice replied. “Why don’t you come on out and I’ll get my flashlight? Maybe I can help get it out for you.”

  As I spoke with the woman, Nathanial bent over to pull up his pants. He was still hard and had to do some maneuvering to fit back into his jeans. Sneaking one final peak at him, a wave of regret rolled through me. I didn’t even get a chance to touch him properly. And that bothered me for some random reason. Actually, what bothered me more was how I knew I was moments away from telling him goodbye forever.

  He pulled on his shirt and his sweatshirt. Then we stepped out of the bathroom together.

  “Is your eye better?” the woman asked, arms crossed and staring at me impatiently. She had a second flight attendant standing behind her and they both were looking at us like we were a pair of unholy fornicators.

  “Yes. Nate here fixed me up,” I told them, letting out a long exhale as I fanned myself. I pretended like I was hot and bothered from some post-orgasmic bliss. “Don’t you wish your contact was stuck in your eye now too?”

  Sherrie groaned, looking at me in disgust. “Return to your seat.”

  “Thanks for the good time, Mr. West,” I threw over my shoulder, smiling as vibrantly as I could. I even winked at him. Then I walked down the aisle, toward the back of the plane. The moment I made it safely past the curtain, with the reassurance of my friends in view—the smile on my face fell away and the worst sinking feeling imaginable filled my chest. It took everything in me just to walk the last few steps to my seat.

  CHAPTER 4:

  NATHANIAL

  What just happened? It felt a lot like whiplash.

  Ellie had left me high and dry, in two seconds flat, like she needed to be rid of me as fast as possible. That hadn’t been pleasant. And neither was the churning now lingering in my gut. Maybe on any other day, with any other person, I could have sat back down in my seat and continued on like nothing had happened. Fuck. I would move on. She would move on. And in twenty-four hours’ time we’d both forget one another existed. But as I sat back down, staring at the blur of clouds out my window, I decided that simply forgetting her wasn’t what I wanted at all.

  The real issue was…I genuinely liked this girl. And I didn’t want to part ways with a big “what if” hanging over my head.

  Sometimes in life—very rarely, I might add—you meet someone and you know instantly they’re going to mean something special to you.

  Her words knocked around in my head. I’d wanted to use her as a memory eraser for another girl and now she was stuck up there too. The whole lesbian thing was a mystery I wanted to unravel. Because I swear to God—judging by the way her mouth had felt against mine and by the way her eyes had devoured me alive—I seriously doubted she was as into women as she thought she was. And fuck if I didn’t want to be the one to prove that to her.

  Digging in my bag, I searched for a pen.

  The moment I’d slipped down my jeans, I knew she hadn’t been bullshitting me about the never being with a man thing. Because she’d stared at my dick like she’d never seen a naked man before. And I liked that about her. I also liked her overly-confident way and her foul little mouth. I’d meant it when I’d told her she was unique. She was.

  So I jotted my phone number on the back of my plane ticket with every intention of giving it to her when we landed. Maybe she lived in LA too. Maybe we’d have a chance to finish what we’d started. Maybe it could even happen more than once.

  Lots of maybes…but I wanted to take a chance on her. Or at the very least, finish what we’d started.

  Clutching my ticket in my hand, I rested my head against the side of the plane. Four more hours until we would land. Ellie was trapped with me on this plane. She’d have to pass by my seat when she exited. So I closed my eyes, desperate for a few hours of rest, and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

  * * *

  “Excuse me. Sir? Mr. West?”

  My internal clock was a mess. I’d been on set in the middle of butt-fuck-Egypt. Not kidding. Actually, Morocco. But it was so far from home that I couldn’t tell the difference. Our director for Dragon Wars loved to pick the most obscure, remote locations he could find. Last year we’d been in Croatia. And if he told me we’d be filming in Antarctica next year then it wouldn’t even surprise me.

  I peeled open my eyes to find no clouds out my window and instead cement. Sherrie the flight attendant stood hovering over me. And my heart dropped because of it.

  “We’ve landed, sir,” she informed me. “You’re the last one on the plane.”

  Yeah, no shit.

  Unbuckling my seatbelt, I stood to my feet. I’d shipped most of my belongings home last week, so I had relatively few things to collect—just my backpack, headphones, and hat off the floor.

  I was pissed at myself for oversleeping. But I was also pissed at Ellie. She was long gone and the least she could have given me was a simple goodbye. I guess our twenty minu
tes in the bathroom hadn’t meant as much to her as it had meant to me.

  Hurrying off the plane, I rushed for baggage claim because that was the only place I figured I had a chance at finding her. My feelings were mixed. If I caught up with this girl would I simply hand over my phone number, asking her to call, or would I tell her off for being somewhat of a bitch to me? Damn this day! I should have just kept my headphones on and ignored her when she came trespassing into first class.

  I’d almost made it all the way to baggage claim when a fan nearly tackled me. “You’re that guy, right? You’re Lucian Kale. You’re him. You’re Nate West.” The man questioning me looked like he was in his forties but actually was probably around twenty-five. He was overweight, sweating, and staring at me like he’d just won the lottery. This was my typical fan. Sure, plenty of women wrote me on daily basis asking to have my children. But I also had many men as fans too. They were the obsessive-compulsive types who read every book in the Dragon Wars series, watched every episode of the show, and even played all the video games. So I had to slow down and stop. Because people like this man were the real reason I had such a high-paying job.

  “Yes, I’m him.”

  He shook my hand, took a photo, and then proceeded to ask me a million and one questions. Questions he probably could answer much better than I could. I smiled and told him as much as I could. But every moment I spent with him was another moment I grew further away from catching Ellie.

  And then, as soon as Super Fan left me, another person recognized me. Then another. And another. By the time I had a break, thirty minutes had passed and so had my window.

  Goodbye, Ellie.

  A driver meet me out front. He took me on the PCH, the Pacific Coast Highway, toward Malibu. They say everywhere in LA takes twenty minutes, but that is a bold-faced lie. Nowhere takes less than an hour and that’s without traffic. But today, miraculously enough, it only took twenty minutes from LAX to my house in Malibu. The shred had to be flat today. Nothing else could explain this wonderful traffic.