Changing Tides (Kill Devil Hills Book 2) (3 page)

BOOK: Changing Tides (Kill Devil Hills Book 2)
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Her mouth fell open. I’d shocked her into silence with my cheesy line. She stepped aside and I moved past her, heading for the bathroom. I was ninety-nine point nine percent sure she wasn’t going to follow me, not after that tragically desperate speech, but as I entered the bathroom and went to shut the door, I found her following me inside.

 

 

CHAPTER 3:

 

 

 

 

ELLIE

 

N
ate Freaking West. Sweet baby Jesus, what was I getting myself into?

The truth was, I had a crush on the man. And I never had man-crushes or even celebrity crushes, but I hadn’t been lying when I told him I watched his show every single Sunday just to watch him. I seriously did. He was hard
not
to watch. I bet every girl in America, lesbian or not, had what I’d called a ‘hard-on’ for his character Lucian.

Because he played this beastly, mean yet somehow lovable, anti-hero on one of the most popular and bloody shows on television. He was captivating, strong, and one hell of an actor. And seeing him in person, not caked in dirt or wearing barbarian clothes, he was just as ferociously handsome. He had thick black hair, tan skin, and a few days growth on his face. His eyes were such a dark shade of brown they were nearly black. He probably weighed around 230 pounds—all of it corded muscle, broad shoulders, thick thighs, and height. Seriously, even fully clothed his body was the epitome of masculinity. But one of my favorite features about him was a scar he had, cutting through one of his dark eyebrows. I’d always thought that imperfection had been something for the show, but seeing him in person, I now knew his scar was real. And despite what I thought I knew about myself, I was hella turned on.

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 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

gentl
e
.

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 wor
d
virgi
n
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 hear 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.

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