Hide Me

by Lexi Scott

  “Deo,” she whispers as I click the door shut.

  For one second, we stare at each other across the space of a few inches. Then she rushes the gap and her lips cover mine.

  “Whit.” I pull back and work her sweatshirt over her head. She’s wearing a thin T-shirt with nothing else underneath. I tug that up too, and she hooks her thumbs under the bottom of my hoodie and rips it off in one jerky movement. I press her cotton shorts down her hips, and Whit Conrad is officially standing in all her naked glory in my bedroom.

  Score.

  She pushes me down on the bed with one eager pounce and seals her mouth over mine, sliding her hand down my shorts to press her hand against my hard-on. I arch into her, my hands on her hips, pressing up and down her back, running over her hair, and gripping her shoulders.

  “I want you. I’ve wanted you for weeks,” she says between clenched teeth, her hands clawing at the waistband of my half-unzipped shorts. I drag my hands away from her body for a quick second, just so I can kick the rest of my clothes off. She presses down on me, hot and so wet it’s pure torture. “I love you. I love you so much, Deo.”

  “I love you, Whit.” I sit up and pull her close, our mouths fierce and fast, like we’re trying to make up for all the time we wasted like two morons. I knock the drawer out of my side table getting a condom. She tears it out of my hands and then the package and grasps down, takes my painfully hard dick in her small hand, rolls the condom on, and fits me against her, pushing down with one hot, tight thrust of her hips.

  The focus in the room blinks in and out, and I dig my fingers into the soft skin of her thighs, kissing her until her quick, gasping moans transfer into my mouth. She’s whimpering, her mouth suddenly still and pulled tight.

  I brace one hand on the center of her back and lean her against my arm, lifting and pumping into her with quicker, deeper thrusts until her body starts to tighten, like a slowly twisted spring that finally, in one shattering, quaking release, explodes against me.

  Her skin is under my hands, her taste is in my mouth, her smell on my skin, the slick heat of her body is wrapped around the rigid length of mine, and it all crashes into me, so much, too much, and everything I wanted. For one perfect, incredible pulse, Whit and I are twined together, anchored to each other, sunk into a love so deep and incredible, neither one of us has a chance in hell of pushing back out of it. I’m part of her now. She’s part of me. And we’ve each traveled the lengths of our own crazy, impossibly tangled paths that seemed to be driving us in opposite directions, but circled us back into each other’s waiting arms. I feel the beat of her heart against my chest, and I swear my heart answers hers in time. And I know, in that second, that our love is so deep and strong, years of sinking fast and fierce won’t even scratch the surface of the lengths we’ll go to keep it that way.

  Epilogue

  WHIT

  “Honestly, the fair sounds really fun, Deo, but I have two final exams this week before I pack for summer abroad. They’re huge exams. And I just went surfing with you yesterday. And…no, no, no,” I gasp as he comes at me, his fingers curled, and grabs my feet. “No! Please, no! No tickling!” I scream as he tickles me anyway, and I feel my muscles bunch up. “I will kick you in the face, and then you’ll be ugly! And then I’ll have to dump you!”

  He stops abruptly and drops my foot, holding his heart, his face crumpled like he’s going to cry. Just when I’m maybe almost tricked by his total bullshit, he picks me up, throws me over his shoulder, and slaps my ass. Hard. “Evil, shallow wench! I knew you only wanted me for my hotness!”

  Deo carries me through his house—our house. The bedroom is the only room that hasn’t undergone a dramatic redecorating since I moved in. As soon as I agreed, Deo had all of the fancy furniture carted out and decided that we should make it a real home—together. It took us weeks to handpick each piece, but now it finally feels right. The way this bed has felt right since the night we made up. For good. He drops me on the mattress and falls next to me, bouncing me hard and knocking throw pillows all over the floor. “No.” I scurry up and press my back to the headboard. “I have to study. Study. I can’t do that when your mouth is…oh. Oh. That’s… Deo,” I gasp.

  Because my very sexy boyfriend is kissing me right behind my ear and down one side of my neck and along both my shoulders. Like he knows his mouth has a direct line to every one of my frayed nerves, and he also knows the press of his lips will smooth them all out and short circuit all the electric stress zapping through me. I drop my head back and wait for the slow movement of his hands, which slide up along my ribs and back down to my hips like his fingers are memorizing my skin. My body crackles, waiting for him to press me back and touch me the way only he knows how. The way that will let me explode into flames and burn hot and fierce, wrapped around him.

  Just when every muscle has gone loose and my body is open and ready, Deo jumps back. “You want me?” he asks, that killer sexy smile stretched across his face like an invitation I just can’t turn down.

  “Right now,” I beg, studying be damned. Because, when it comes to him, I’ve given up on being proud. Why bother, when I know he gives me exactly what I want before I even know I want it?

  The thought still makes chills ride up and down my spine; being with Deo has taught me to let go and sink.

  It’s made me happy.

  It’s also scared the crap out of me on a regular basis.

  Being loved sounds good in the movies, in books, in the memories of people who’ve survived the rough beginnings of their love. In real life, in the very beginning? It’s every deep fear you’ve ever wanted to avoid all wrapped in the most intense happiness and pleasure you’ve ever dreamed possible. I feel like every morning I wake up wrapped around Deo, I’m standing at the edge of a cliff I have to jump off of if I’m going to get the chance to feel alive again. I feel like I need to pay for this intense love with equally intense courage. I think I’m getting braver every day.

  It helps that Deo’s never failed to catch me. Not even once.

  If that’s not true love, I don’t know what the hell could be.

  “You can have me.” He leans close, then pulls back just as I’m about to kiss him, arms held wide out at his sides. “After you best one of those crafty carnies at their own balloon-popping dart game and win me something rad. You need to work for this, doll.” Deo turns in a circle, shaking his hips from side to side, wiggling his eyebrows. I’m sure to give me the chance to “drink him all in,” as he so frequently encourages me to do.

  Am I pathetic because, not only do I drink him in, I can never seem to quench my damn thirst when it comes to this beautiful, crazy guy?

  “Okay,” I sigh, shaking my head. “If I fail my exams, it’s on your shoulders.”

  He scoops me off the bed and blows a raspberry on the side of my neck. “That’s more like it! I knew you’d never turn down the chance to best a carnie. And I swear to you, I will play strip flashcards with you all night long.”

  I wiggle out of his strong, sexy arms and grab a clean sundress and sandals. “Deo, stop trying to make strip flashcards a legitimate study option.” I run a brush through my hair, which is getting longer and falling in dark waves again.

  “For all your liberalism, you’re very backward when it comes to innovative study techniques. Anyone ever tell you that?” He takes my hand and spins me around. When I face him again, the humor is gone from his face. His eyes are warm and study me for too long.

  I squirm a little to try to figure out what he’s seeing. “Is something wrong? Is my dress inside out again?”

  “No.” He tugs me over and pulls me against his chest, folding his arms around me. “You get more beautiful every day.” My face is pressed tight, my ear over his thudding heart. I can double hear him, one ear listening to his clear voice, the other to the echo of those words in his chest. “Sometimes I just need to grab you and hold tight. Just to make sure you’re really mine. Here with me.”

  My arm
s and legs wobble, but I don’t run to stop the shake.

  I wrap harder around him, hold tighter, so our bones crush close. And the way I love him sears white-hot through me, so it burns. Then the pain and fear extinguishes and it’s just the cool, never-ending depths of Deo’s love for me.

  Damn, damn, damn. How did I get so lucky?

  I figure we’ll fall into that big bed and cash in on all this frantic love, but he must really love fairs, because he’s sliding the straps back onto my shoulders and dragging me to the door.

  He breaks away from me and runs to the driver’s side of the Jeep, and soon we’re breezing down the highway, toward the dull and bright lights of the fair.

  Before I know it, we’re standing in line for the Ferris wheel.

  “Are you afraid?” he asks, his eyes wide.

  “No. I love Ferris wheels,” I say.

  He goes to chat with the operator like he always does, and I hug my arms close, letting go of the worry about my exams and finding a job and visiting my parents later this month. I used to think I had to handle everything all on my own. Having Deo to help shoulder my worries with me has made everything, finally, bearable.

  I look across the car we’ve climbed in, and Deo looks pale. “Oh God. Are you afraid of Ferris wheels? We did not have to do this.”

  “Want…um, want some Cracker Jacks?” Deo asks, skirting my question, the whites of his eyes bulged with terror.

  “I’m stuffed, really. And you don’t look good.” I lean over the side of the car to see if I can get the operator’s attention. “Damn. We’re almost to the top, so he can’t see me. Um, I’ll try to get his attention on the way down—”

  “Whit, please have some Cracker Jacks,” Deo says, his voice cracking.

  I look at his face and wonder if maybe he’s trying to take his mind off the height. We get right to the top and stop, the car swinging gently. The sky is clear and gorgeous, speckled with hundreds of milky stars. Way down below, we can see the black waves of the ocean, smell its salty edge, hear the splash and pull as the tide sucks in.

  Even though I hate how Cracker Jacks get stuck in my teeth, I take the box and give Deo a pasted-on smile. I don’t want to make him more worried, so I act relaxed. I chew on a few sweet kernels while Deo watches me like a hawk. I hate that he’s missing this amazing view. And this makes no sense; I saw pictures of a sky-diving trip he and his dad did when he was a young teen. Maybe this fear of heights is a recent thing?

  “Is there a prize?” Deo asks, pointing to the box, looking like he might puke.

  “Um, yes.” I tug the paper envelope out and hold it up. “A heavy prize. Huh. I always got, like, cheap temporary tattoos when I was a kid. I guess they have better prizes now?”

  “Open it,” he barks.

  My neck snaps up and I narrow my eyes at him. “Okay. I’m opening it. What’s with you, Deo? I don’t get why you would have wanted to come up here if you were going to be so—oh my God. Oh my—Deo—”

  He’s on one knee in front of me, the motion of his body making the entire cart swing from side to side. I’m holding the paper envelope, ripped open enough to show the glint of the sapphire ring his grandfather gave to his grandmother, the one his grandfather showed me when he told me all about his one true love, Deo’s grandmother Harriet. I hold the precious ring in my shaking hands.

  “Whit Conrad, I love you. Dammit, I love you. The way you snore. The way you growl at me before you’ve had your first cup of coffee. The way you taste, the way your hair smells like grapefruit, the way you’re fearless and loving and brilliant. I love how you looked in that yellow dress and the red bikini, and best naked. God, you look the best naked. I didn’t plan for your proposal to contain the word ‘naked’ so many times. I had something written out. I did. But I panicked, because I know this might scare you. I want you to know you can get off this ride and pretend this never happened. I hope you don’t. Please, I’m begging you, don’t. But I’ll still love you if you do.” He’s got my fingers in a death grip. His shoulders are tense, his eyes wild with panic. I’ve never seen Deo like this.

  “Deo, I—” But I can’t get a word in. Because he plows ahead.

  “Please marry me. I don’t think I deserve you, but I literally want to commit murder when I think about anyone else being with you. I’ll work hard…so hard to give you everything. If I just get to wake up next to you. If I get to have the privilege of you yanking the covers off my ass every night, I will go to my grave a happy, shivering man. Marry me, Whit. I love you. So hard.” He holds his hands out, like he has nothing else to say. Nothing else to give.

  How can he not realize that he’s already given me everything I ever wanted…and now this? Now more?

  I have to punch the words out through the sobs that are mounting fast around a swollen heart lodged in my throat. Good thing they’re simple words, and ones I’ve been wanting to say for weeks now without even realizing it. Winds up I was just waiting for the question.

  “I love you. So much. Too. And I will marry you. Of course. Yes!”

  He takes my hand and slips the ring on my finger as my tears splatter down, but there’s nothing I can do to stop them. He slides his hands on either side of my neck and kisses me, long and hard, tinged with salt, leaving my head spinning and my heart thumping like mad.

  Then he leans out of the car and screams, “She said yes! Whit Conrad is going to be my wife!”

  From below, people scream and cheer, yelling their congratulations. The Ferris wheel starts up again, and I stare across the car at this guy who stole the heart out of my chest, the breath out of my mouth, the love out of my dark, twisted soul and made me want to live this crazy, beautiful, amazing life fully again…with him.

  “Hey,” I whisper, testing the weight of the ring on my finger and loving it.

  “Yeah?” he asks, his lips stretched in a huge grin that’s contagious.

  “You know that bunny? With the drum and the batteries?” I ask.

  “The Energizer Bunny?” He looks puzzled.

  “Mmmhmm. I taught that guy everything he knows. Why don’t you get me to our bed, and I’ll give you a demonstration?”

  Deo drags me into his arms, uncaring about the swing and tilt of the ride, and lays desperate kisses all over my face and neck, crushing me in a hug that I relax into completely. “I can’t wait to marry your sexy ass. Whit, I love you.”

  And I know, tomorrow morning, and every one after, sinking into this life and all its love will get easier and more amazing with this perfect man by my side.

  I wrap my arms around the man who taught my heart to beat again as we sink into our perfectly imperfect love.

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  Acknowledgments

  Huge, heartfelt thanks to the awesome bloggers and readers who have supported this series since the very beginning. We love you for respecting what we do, and sharing what we all love. Special thanks to Michelle at Much Loved Books who embraced the entire Silver Strand crew, and never missed a chance to shout the word. We appreciate you so much.

  Thank you to Kevan Lyon, who made sure that the folks from Silver Strand found a good home, and to the entire crew at Entangled Publishing for your passion and hard work.

  We are so grateful to have such amazing, strong, talented women in our lives whose friendships and loyalty we treasure. Thanks to Nyrae Dawn, E.L. James, Christa Desir, Tracey Garvis-Graves, Elizabeth Hunter, Jolene Perry, Angie Stanton, Karly Blakemore, Laura Bradley Rede, Lani Wendt Young, Michele Scott, Elizabeth Reyes, Nicole Williams, Nichole Chase, Tina Reber, and so many more, for helping to keep our heads above water.

  Thank you to our families, who let us get all tangled up in fictional worlds for hours…days…weeks…months. W
e love you all so much.

  And, thanks to all of the writers out there who make us cry, swoon, and want to throw books at the wall from sweet frustration. Keep on keeping on, and pushing every boundary set up for you, because you are inspiring us every single day.

  About the Author

  Lexi Scott is the combined forces of authors and best friends, Liz Reinhardt and Steph Campbell. Together, they write new adult and contemporary romance featuring strong, smart, feisty women and the swoony worthy, good guys who love them. The grew up on opposite coasts- one on the east, one of them on the west, but somehow, both ended up married and raising their families in the Southern U.S.

  They love traveling, good food, wine and hoarding books.

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  Don’t miss book two in the Silver Strand series, Risk Me, coming soon!

  Risk Me

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