Changing Tides (Kill Devil Hills Book 2) (18 page)

“Ellie,” I said with a growl, “I thought you weren’t feeling great.”

“I wasn’t. Until I realized that I still have more research to do.” Taking the loofah, she moved it against my chest, then lower over my abdomen, then even lower. Then she dropped it and her fingers trailed lightly in its place, passing over the skin dangerously close to where my body was begging to be touched. “Tons and tons of research,” she muttered.

“Tell me more about this research.” I placed my hands against the tile behind her head, boxing her in. I moved closer but kept one safe inch between our bodies.

“Well, it involves you making me come—over and over. And that’s really all there is to it. What do you think?” Her blue eyes, framed by eyelashes dripping with water, stared up at me as she asked this. There was fear and there was uncertainty in those eyes. But, I think, mostly hope
.
Was she asking for more than me to simply fuck her
?
I think she was.

And there it went. My control out the fucking window. The last inch between us disappeared as my body came together with hers, and I grabbed her ass to lift her. Her legs locked in place around my waist as I shoved her against the shower wall
.
Yes
,
my body screamed at the same time she vocalized a needy sigh.

That one sound brought the beast inside me to life. I needed to be inside her. Right here, right now. Nothing else mattered. I moved to press my lips to her lips, but her hands on the sides of my face stopped me momentarily. I paused to see what she wanted.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her voice raw. It was almost as if she’d been waiting all day to tell me this. And I fell a little more in love with her because of it.

“I missed you too,” I said in one breath and kissed her.

Our fun little flirtation about research was over. Honesty had replaced it. I liked honesty better. Honesty was warm and it tasted so sweet. And I was horribly awful when it came to resisting her honesty.

As we kissed under the spray of the water, my chest felt like it was wide open with my heart exposed. And I was an addict—I only wanted more of this feeling. That was why I couldn’t stop, or even attempt to hold back, when I positioned myself against her and pressed inside. Holy shit. She was wet and tight and this felt so right. I moved nice and slow, savoring that initial feeling of inching inside. She dug her fingers into my hair at the nape of my neck, pulling, holding my face close to hers, so that she could hoist herself higher. She rocked against me and I pushed as deep as I could go.

“Ellie,” I groaned. Only now did I remember that we’d forgotten something. The damn rubber. “I don’t have on a condom.”

“Then pull out when you come—just don’t stop,” she breathed.

As much as I liked being inside her bare, and as much as I wanted to appease her, I couldn’t risk it. I remembered that I had a condom in my wallet. My wallet was in my jean’s pocket. “Hang on, baby.”

Pulling out and setting her down, I stepped out of the shower and went straight for my jeans. I found what I needed, hurried to correct the situation, then jumped back under the warmth of the water. She squealed as I lifted her up and immediately thrust back inside her.

When it came to sex I preferred everything a little rougher. More gritty, so to speak. I had a feeling Ellie might have similar tastes in the matter. But she'd been through a lot in the last day and instead of going crazy on her body, I kept things deliberately slow. I took my time, holding her close as I steadily pumped in and out.

And damn, having her again was everything I remembered and then some. It felt like all the synapses in my brain were exploding at once. But it was more than just great sex. It was a sense of belonging, a sense of completion. I hadn't know I was missing that in my life until this moment.

“Nathanial,” she whispered, saying my name in that same warning tone she’d used on me the last two times we were together. I knew she was close.

And that was when my careful concentration broke.

Fuck going slow. Gripping her right knee, I hoisted her leg higher on my hip—letting her other leg fall so that she could stand on her own. I couldn’t hold her and fuck her the way I wanted at the same time. Positioned like this, she was spread open wide, with all of me still buried deep inside of her, and her pussy was mine for the taking. My movements changed from slow and careful to wild and rough. I rested my forehead to hers, gripping her leg hard enough to leave a mark, and moved a hand between our bodies so that I could stroke my thumb against her clit.

Then I fucked her. Hard.

“Ellie…you…are everything to me,” I told her between breaths, letting all of my emotions pour out of me and into my movements.

In three seconds flat, I had her screaming and bucking. The tight walls of her pussy contracted in sharp bursts around my cock, as she dug her fingernails into my back and cried out, “Oh God, Nathanial. Yes! Oh, yes!”

I drove into her harder, nearly ready to explode, or possibly black out. But I refrained from coming because I wasn’t ready for this to end. Until, suddenly, she pressed her hands to my chest and yelled at me to stop.

“Am I hurting you?” I asked, freezing instantly.

The biggest, most content smile came to her lips. “No,” she sighed. “I just need a minute, cowboy. I’m…It’s…I’m too sensitive.” She was coming down from her orgasm. Every few seconds I felt the aftershock proof—the walls of her still squeezing against me. It was heaven knowing I’d done this to her. She was giddy and smiley, but only for a moment. Then she whispered, “Okay, I’m good now. Whenever you’re ready.”

I smiled. I was right. Ellie did like it rough.

Slamming my hand against the bathtub nozzle, I turned off the water. It was cold now anyway. I pulled out and grabbed her hand. We were done in the shower. Carefully stepping over the edge of the tub, I led her over to the sink. She was staring at me with awe—she had no idea what was coming next.

Gripping her waist and guiding her, I moved her in front of me. I watched her reflection carefully in the mirror as I bent her forward so that her stomach and her tits were pressed against the bathroom sink. “Ellie, baby,” I said, running my hands over her wet body, “This is going to be quick. I’m not going to last much longer. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like and I’ll stop immediately.”

“I trust you,” she whispered.

“Good.”

I nudged her legs open so that her feet were about shoulder width apart. God, she was beautiful. She had a tattoo right across the edge of one of her butt-cheeks and I wanted to murder whoever had done it.

Admiring her spread open for a moment, I then dropped to me knees. I needed to taste her.

Her folds were pink and swollen. I ran my tongue across her wetness, paying special attention to her clit. I loved the taste of her. But I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed back inside. I stood up, grabbing my cock in my hand, and I thrust deep inside her from behind.

CHAPTER 20:

ELLIE

A
fter I came for the second time that night, and Nathanial finally found his release, I was done. Put a fork in me, this shop is closed for business—done. I couldn’t even move. My limbs felt tingly and numb. Good thing the bathroom sink was holding me up or I would have fallen to the floor. Nathanial pressed a kiss to my back before pulling out and leaving me. I might not have wanted round three, but I immediately felt the loss of him. Not to mention, my skin was still wet from the shower and without him pressed flush against me, it was freezing.

But I was only cold and alone for a moment. A second later, Nathanial found a towel and draped the fluffy cotton over my shoulders. He said nothing as he tucked it around me and picked me up, carrying me out of the bathroom. He was naked, so I sure hoped Rhett wasn’t anywhere close and could see us.

Oh, God
!
I realized it was possible Rhett had heard us in the bathroom. I’d been able to keep quiet…initially. Then Nathanial went all caveman on me and ruined all my self-control. If Rhett had heard anything then there was no chance in hell he’d ever let me live it down.

Whatever, I decided. A little humiliation was worth it.

Nathanial brought me to my bed and set me down on top of the covers. The man was naked but didn't seem to notice or care as he moved to open my dresser. He found me a shirt and some pajama pants. Then he turned around with raised eyebrows and the clothes in his hands, looking for my approval.

I nodded, smiling at the cute look on his face, and he returned to me.

He helped me into my shirt, pausing before fully covering my breasts to press a kiss to one of my nipples. He lingered for a moment then finished tugging the material into place. He helped me into my underwear and pajama pants too. I wasn't five. I didn't need his help putting on clothes. But I let him do it anyway because I thoroughly enjoyed the special attention. No one had ever done this sort of thing for me before. It was sweet—especially coming from a big, tough guy like Nathanial.

Neither of us were speaking. He’d just had his way with me, seen every inch of my body in the most exposed way possible, but his gentleness had turned me shy and I didn’t know what to say. Maybe he felt something similar, because he wasn’t talking either. It made this moment even more intimate than our bathroom sex—if that was possible. And my heart sped because of it.

Once I was taken care of, he flipped off the lights. Then he grabbed my waist, pulling my body in close to his, and snuggled in with me under the covers. In the dark stillness with this amazing man, accepting and loving the feel of his strong arms around me, I realized something.

“Oh my God,” I said out loud. “I like boys.”

I wasn’t sure if this was a happy realization or a sad one. Neither, I guess. Just a self-observation.

“I mean…men,” I corrected. “I like men. Well, actually just one man. The rest of your species, not so much.”

He chuckled against my shoulder. “I like you too, baby. Now get some sleep. I’m going to show you over and over again just how much I like you tomorrow. You’re going to need your rest.”

I liked this threat. Besides, I was extremely exhausted. Our bathroom sex had worn me out. So, I closed my eyes. I’d worry about what this all meant in the morning.

* * *

In the morning, I woke with Nathanial still in my bed. Which probably shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did. Not that I’d expected him to take off in the middle of the night, leaving me high and dry, but some part of me must have feared he might—because I was so excited and relieved to find him still next to me.

His large body took up my whole bed. I was on the edge, practically falling out. And he wa
s
…
still naked
!
Like on his stomach, spread-eagle, with the covers down around his feet—that sort of naked. Jesus, his ass had more muscle definition than my whole body. He was impressive to look at, and I wondered what the hell he was doing here with me.

The man could have threesomes with girls like Kelly Patterson for crying out loud. Well, Kelly was probably too classy for a threesome. But I was sure girls as pretty as Kelly had to be throwing themselves at him on a daily basis. I’d like to think I was pretty awesome in my own right. Was it possible he thought so too? He had to think something—or I don’t think he would have come all this way for seconds.

“Hey you,” I said, pushing at his shoulder. “Nathanial, wake up.”

With a grumble he rolled onto his back and stretched out like a cat. This big, shit-eating, ‘I-got-lucky-last-night’ grin came to his lips as he pried open his eyes to stare at me. “Morning, baby,” he said, being all smiley and flirty. He had an erection from the morning. It stood at attention as he lay on his back, and I swear it was even bigger and more intimidating than I remembered. I tried not to stare, but
—
holy shit
!
No wonder I still felt kind of sore today.

“Baby, it’s not going to bite you.” Nathanial grabbed my arms. He pulled me away from the edge of the bed and in close to him. “How are you feeling today? Any of that hangover feeling left?”

“I’m better. I think,” I muttered. “But I’m not sure I like you calling me baby. I’m not sure I’m a pet-name kind of a girl. So cut it out.” I pinched him. Or tried too—but the skin on his abdomen was way too taut for pinching.

He caught my hand and instead of letting me pinch or tickle, he laced our fingers together. “Well, you called me cowboy while we were fucking last night. I think that grants me liberties on calling you baby. Seems only fair.”

I gasped and buried my face against his chest. He was right;
I
ha
d
called him cowboy during our love making
.
Jesus Christ, how lame and embarrassing was I?
“I take it back!” I yelled.

“Nope,” he told me, cupping the sides of my face and rolling on top of me. “You said it when you were delirious from the orgasm I’d given you. And I liked it. You can’t take it back. Ellie, I…”

One of his animal noises rumbled in his throat.

“You, what?” I asked. It seemed like he’d wanted to say something else.

“Nothing.”

He climbed off me and out of bed. “My clothes are in the bathroom. I’m going to go get dressed and then get going.”

“Oh. Okay.” I tried to mask my disappointment, but even I could hear it in my voice.

“Can I come over again tonight?” he asked, brushing his hand over the back his neck. He glanced down at the carpet and then back up at me through those dark lashes of his.

Hello sexy. The man seemed almost
…
nervou
s
as he asked this.

“Yes.” I smiled. There really was no other answer.

“Good. I’ll see you later then.” He bent over to press a single kiss to my lips and whispered, “I can’t wait for later.”

“Me too,” I breathed.

Then he was gone. And I was all alone in my bed. I had to take several calming breaths—because he’d left me feeling all achy and needy with the image of him naked in my head. I resisted the urge to take care of business myself and instead hurried to get ready for work.

* * *

Going into work was pointless. Owning an outdoor miniature golf course on a cold, frigid day translated into zero business. I didn’t have any other employees on payroll for the winter months. It was just me and my lonesome. So when I went to work at The Presidential Swing, all I usually did was hangout, watching Netflix on my cellphone, from sun up to sun down. Noah had urged me to close our business until spring, but what else was I supposed to do with my time
?
Get a job as a waitress at Chancy’s with Rhett
?
No, thank you.

But after a few hours of doing nothing today, with no customers, I gave up and called it a day.

Driving over to Mom and Dad’s house, I decided to check in with them. We only lived a few miles apart and I spent a lot of time over there, especially when the weather sucked. My mom and I had a tendency to argue. We’d always been like that. It was probably because we were a lot alike, personality wise. But these days our arguing was usually only over tiny, silly things—nothing major that would keep me away or keep me from all her home cooking. And believe me, I was a crap cook. If I didn’t go over there every few days to raid her fridge for leftovers, I would have starved long ago.

“Hello,” I yelled as I came inside through the basement door. Mom was downstairs, on the phone. I realized this a moment too late.

She hushed me and waved at me to go upstairs. I bet it was a work phone call. She and Dad were both realtors—a husband and wife team. They were busy on and off, depending on business, and today it seemed she was busy. My Dad was probably at their relator company’s office.

Upstairs I found my kid sister Rose sitting on the couch with a giant bowl of popcorn, the remote in her hand, and her eyes glued to the TV. “Why aren’t you in school?” I asked, walking over to immediately feel her head. She didn’t have a fever, but it wasn’t like my mom to randomly let her stay home. “You sick?”

“Hell, no,” she said, pushing me to the right so I wasn’t in the way of her show. “It’s a snow day.”

“Don’t cuss,” I muttered, turning to look out the window. “Um…it’s not snowing.”

“The weather man said there was supposed to be a dusting. You know how the school board is. If they even hear the word snow, they cancel. Awesome, huh?” she informed me, still trying to see around me. I purposely kept blocking the TV. “Ellie,” she whined. “Stop it.

I grabbed the remote from her hand and turned off the TV. “Rosie,” I said, “you should have called me. Go get your coat on and go get the
…
print
s
.” I whispered the word prints. “We can finish up your Christmas gifts today.”

“Oh, yeah.” Her eyes lit up and she hopped off the couch.

A few months back, I’d splurged and bought my first camera. The urge to buy one hit me after my brother’s ‘death.’ Helping my parents prepare for the funeral, we’d gone through lots of pictures. But for as many pictures as there were, I still felt like there weren’t enough. My brother was gone, and I wanted more pictures to remember him by. Little did I know he wasn’
t
actuall
y
dead, but at the time the urge to buy a camera and take more pictures had struck me pretty hard. That urge grew when Georgie and Noah first started dating. Life was precious. Life was short. When I was eighty-five and losing my memories, I wanted to have tons and tons of pictures from my glory days to help remind me of these days.

So I bought a camera. And I loved it. I loved taking pictures and documenting everything. I’d even started scrapbooking
.
Tha
t
was a secret I would guard with my life, because girls like me weren’t supposed to scrapbook, but it had become a new hobby.

Then there was Rosie. My new camera had been as exciting for her and it was for me.

And the
prints
I was referring to, they were pictures she’d taken that we’d had printed. There was one for my parents, one for Noah and Georgie, and one she’d been hiding from me that was my Christmas present. All we had left to do was get her pictures framed.

She had her coat on in three nano-seconds with her folder of pictures tucked safely in her arms. I’d only just opened the fridge when she started tugging on my arm. “Let’s go,” she begged.

“Fine. Fine.” I sighed, eyeing some yummy stew, but closed the fridge instead.

After we told Mom goodbye and got in the car to drive to the frame shop, I debated over telling Rose about Nathanial. I wanted to tell her
so
bad. Maybe she was only nine, almost ten, but she was smart and wise beyond her years. Not only that, she was exceptionally level-headed. She had a way of looking at things, figuring things out, that even I had yet to master.

“So, I’m seeing this guy,” I said, cringing as the words came out. I sounded like such a girl.

“What does ‘seeing’ mean? Like dating?” Immediately, she was squirming in her seat, asking questions. I never knew my love life could be so thrilling for her. And I hadn’t even told her he was famous yet. “Can I meet him?”

“I don’t know how long it’s going to last. Or if it means anything at all. But yes, if it continues, then of course you can meet him.”

Plus, I already knew she’d liked him. He was a celebrity, and she worshiped celebrities. And part of me really wanted Nathanial to meet her. The biggest part, actually. It was foolish for me to hope that there might be some resemblance of a future possible between us—but I was hoping anyway.

“So, wait…are you still a lesbian?” Rose wondered.

Wow. There it was. The hard question—from a nine-year-old. I was always honest with Rose, so I didn’t sugar coat or dumb down anything as I answered. “He’s the first man I’ve ever had feelings for. But I still find women attractive too. I think I’ll always find women attractive. I think that’s part of my nature. But, honestly, I don’t know what I am.”