Paddling hard, I try and match the speed of the wave. It seems I am too late to ride it. I am on the cusp of being overtaken by it. Most times I would give up and wait for the next wave, but this meant something more. I needed to prove to myself I could get into this wave. With my shoulders burning from the strain, I refuse to give up. Digging in harder, I grit my teeth. Now at the right part of the wave I jump to my feet. The wave is angry and wants to throw me off in it’s wake. I will not be bucked off this wave, bending my knees a little further I hunker in for a hard ride. Then it becomes magical. The power of the wave pushes me to shore, giving me enough speed to really hang it all out there. The ride is magnificent. It was scary at first, becoming very rewarding. I am glad I took that wave.
At the end of the ride, I flop back on the board and decide to paddle back out. Off to my left, I notice another surfer is floating nearby. I don’t recognize him, and at this hour, I know everyone who comes out. He is too far away for me to make out any of his features. I sit contemplating the parallels of that wave to my current situation as I wait for my next wave. I pay little attention to the mysterious surfer, until I realize he is coming to meet me. As his face comes into view, I realize it is Mick.
“Hi, Sam,” he says gently.
“Hi, Mick.” I answer. Unamused.
He looks straight into my eyes. “I asked around and people told me you surf here. I wanted to talk to you.” His calming demeanor is unnerving.
“Mick, listen. I forgive you. I’m okay—we’re okay.” I say half-heartedly. I really just wanted to continue to surf alone.
“Sam... Thank you.” Mick smiles. That felt very unsatisfying to me, I wanted him to realize I didn’t really mean it.
I am not sure why I couldn’t speak more to him then, but without listening to another word, I pick up the next wave and ride it to shore. I can’t surf anymore today. Not with him here. I look back at Mick to see him catching the next wave. He really is an amazing surfer. As I turn my head around, a sudden spinning feeling hits me, and I lose footing. I feel my head strike something heavy and dull, and I am plunged into darkness.
Chapter 6 – Paparazzi - Mick
I watch as she tumbles off her board. She was watching me surf. The thought was kind of cute, actually. The fall seems harmless enough. She’ll come to the surface in a second, I think. But then too much time passes and the hairs on my nape stand erect. Wait… why hasn’t she come back up?
I swim over to find her board, yet Sam has not surfaced. I search for her at the end of the board’s leash and find her in the water, face down, motionless.
I rush to pick her up and set her body face up on the board. She’s not breathing. Oh, God, please let her be okay. I run with her in my arms to the beach, stumbling over the rocks. Laying her down on the sand, I start chest compressions immediately. Oh God Sam, come back…
With a great push of air into her lungs, she begins to cough and sputter and regain consciousness. She looks at me, then to her surroundings, and back to me.
Disoriented, she whispers, “Am I dead?”
I let out a laugh in relief and stroke her hair. “No, Sam, you are very much alive.”
Sam lifts her arms up, hugging me around the neck. For a brief, shining moment, I feel like a hero.
“It’s okay, Sam. You’re all right now. I promise.”
“What happened?”
“You fell off of your board and took a pretty nasty tumble. You must have hit one of those rock clusters. How do you feel?”
“I think I’m okay. My head hurts a little.”
“Let me take a look… yeah, there’s a bit of swelling already, but no bleeding. You’re going to be okay.”
“Here, hold onto me so you can sit up.”
Sam sits up straight. “I guess I owe you a drink… Professor Mick.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I did what anyone else would do. All I really want is for you to really forgive me and get to know the real me. That’s all I want. The real me. No cameras, no tricks. “
“Mick, I think I know who you are. And I forgive you. I told you that. I just need some time to think.” I watch as Sam picks up her board and begins to walk away.
I can’t walk away from her. I wish I could convince myself to let her see just how much I care.
“Sam, please don’t go.”
Sam stops for a second. She stands there like a pillar, resilient. Yet I know she’s contemplating my words. She doesn’t turn around—she doesn’t move an inch.
“Give me a reason I should stay.”
“We only surfed one wave. Well, at least I only surfed one wave. We have this place all to ourselves, and you don’t have to like me to surf in the same beach. It is, after all, a big ocean. I will surf over here, you can surf over there.”
A silence fell over us as Sam began to smirk. She turns and looks at me through her wet hair, as she walks back to the water.
“Okay, I will surf with you on one condition.”
“What is that?”
“You stay off my waves.”
Sam smirks at me, but I’m not sure I totally trust that sense of “all’s right with the world” she’s trying to give me. Regardless, I’m going to take this as a step in the right direction and just go with it.
Sam runs into the water without regard and begins to paddle out. I follow suit, negotiating the rocks as best I can. I am impressed at how fleet of foot she is. It’s also nice to follow her figure out to the waves.
After a few painful steps along some of the rocks, it’s deep enough for me to flop on my board and paddle out. Sam smiles back at me on several occasions, with an air of satisfaction that she’s ahead of me. It’s at this point that I decide she won’t ride a wave alone all day. I know I told her otherwise, but rules are meant to be broken. I’m going to stay right beside her. I need to be as close to her as I can.
Catching up to her, I watch closely as she begins to paddle into a wave. She is smart and keeps backing off every wave I try to join her on. Then I do it again and again… and again. Until she looks at me in disgust and takes the wave anyways. I am right on her shoulder, mimicking everything she does.
This is the most fun I have had in a while. Sam is being very playful. She keeps gazing back at me to see what I am doing, almost falling as she does. She smiles at me in a cheeky way when she looks back. I am powerless and can do nothing but smile back. At the end of the wave, she falls and the wave washes over her.
I back off of the wave like a frightened father and wait for her to surface. Memories of the last wave strike fear in my heart. She doesn’t surface. Again. I hop off my board and half-swim, half-run to find her face down. Again. I flip over her lifeless body. This time I’m going to have to resuscitate her in the water—we’re too far from shore. I pull my board over and place her on top, but just before our lips meet…
Sam sits up. “Haha! Gotcha, sucker!”
“What the hell?!”
“Now you know how it feels to have someone play a trick on you.”
“This is how you choose to get me back? You are fucked!”
“Am I? Or are you just sore that I got the better of you. How does it feel?”
Rightly so, Sam has returned the favor. Maybe this will settle the score between us and we can move on from here.
“All right, you’re right. I hope this mean I am truly forgiven.”
“You are.” She casts a smile that melts my heart. Then she averts her eyes, in a way that made it known that she was embarrassed by her staring. I could see her smile remained even as her face was turned.
Sam moves closer to me. I can sense her attraction instantly as she looks out to the ocean, pretending not to notice the space between us has vanished. Her smile has left her face. Her lips glisten in the low-hanging sun. Her wet hair flops lazily along her shoulders and her eyes hunger.
I dive in for a kiss, ensuring it will be fast enough that she can’t retreat. Sam returns the kiss with the same passion I forced
on her. She clings to me like a bear climbing a tree as she thrusts her pelvis toward me. My cock instantly becomes hard as I pick her up and carry her to the shore.
I rip off her wetsuit with some difficulty and do the same with mine. Her bikini stares at me defiantly, the only barrier between her and I. After ripping that off too, I grab her hand and look her in the eyes. It instantly slows down the pace of the moment. I want to enjoy this. I lead her back to the water and I place her on my board. She bites her lip, and I cannot help but smile at her.
The waves crash into us as I enter her and the expression on her face changes. I’ve always been told my cock was quite large and had to smile, knowing that she felt the same way. I want her to feel all of me. But I hadn’t counted on her feeling as good as she does. Her pussy feels like it was made for my cock. It’s caressing every inch of me, tickling and pleasing my shaft. I don’t even notice she’s about to come until it’s too late.
I watch as she squeals with delight, grunting and convulsing to a stop. As she comes, the pressure increases on my cock and I, too, find my release. I want to pull out, but the intensity of the feeling won’t let me. So there I remain, in ecstasy, totally satisfied.
We both are taken down by the next wave. The wave washes over us, separating us in the most poetic of ways.
Standing up, I hold my hand out and wait for her to grab it. We walk hand in hand to shore, both in a sort of an orgasm-fueled daze. At my car we say nothing, merely revelling in the moment. There are no words that need to be spoken, so we sit in blissful silence.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see people coming closer. I don’t care, nor do I say anything to Sam. It really doesn’t matter to me until I hear the sound of clicking cameras and the flash of bulbs. I turn around and notice it’s the Paparazzi.
Oh, shit. How did they find me?
Sam looks over at me, shocked. She grabs whatever she can and runs out of the car. The flashes and clicks follow her until she’s well out of sight. I have to laugh a little at the scene and wonder why she didn’t just stay in the car, but then the attentions back on me. I start up my car and just drive away. It is not until this moment that I remember Delia.
Oh, no. How many pictures do they have, and what is going to happen when Delia sees them?
Chapter 7- A Woman Scorned - Mick
Once I’m out of view of the cameras, I park my car and put my clothes back on. I wonder how long it’ll be before they post those pictures online. I know I’m in some serious trouble with Delia. Eventually, the pictures will come out, and when they do, there will be hell to pay. Both professionally and personally.
Delia has always had a flair for the dramatic. A child by most standard. Not her age of course, but she was very immature. On several occasions, she had cast my things outside and destroyed them in one way or another. I wondered what she would do this time. I definitely needed to end that situation. Truth be told, I did love her once, but those times have long since passed. The romance of our relationship has now been replaced with the placid tasks of day to day living. We just weren’t in love anymore. Well, I wasn’t, anyway.
It’s probably best that I tell her how I feel before she sees these pictures. Delia’s fits of destruction were becoming worse and worse. She likes to take my things and destroy them. That makes me realize that our relationship had been over for a long time. I was so busy with my life, I never looked at the obvious. We’re through. Sam is the woman I want now, and I’m going to make her mine.
A smile comes over my face as I think about my encounter with Sam. She’s amazing. She is so sexy, and fucking her on that surf board was just about the hottest thing I’ve ever done. All I want to do now is go back and see her. I want to hold her and feel her lips on mine. When I get in the house, there is a note from Delia saying she is going away for the weekend and will be back on Monday. I am kind of glad I don’t need to deal with this right now and can have a couple days to myself. I fall asleep that night, thinking about Sam.
I wake up the next morning and check my phone, there is a text message from Sam.
“I guess next time we will have to do that behind closed doors lol.”
I want to respond quickly, letting her know I’m thinking about her, but I realize that these messages can mean the difference between a next date and a lonely night. It’s a new feeling for me to be nervous about a woman. I’ve always just taken what I wanted and moved on, but she’s different. Very different. Sam is more intelligent, more independent, less reliant, and overall, just a better person. I consider her to be someone worthy of my time and attention.
I mull over the possible responses in my head, for hours before finally settling on:
“If you are inviting me over, just tell me when and I will be there.”
The instant after I send it, I regret what I typed. Maybe she’s going to think all I want is sex. Maybe she’s going to think I’m a pervert. I put my phone on my leg so it is at close at hand as it needs to be for me to see her response. I nervously check for a response that never comes. I resist the urge to type back, reassuring myself that she is just busy.
I’m going to go to the gym. That will get my mind off things.
After an invigorating workout I drive back home and pull into my driveway, the tattered shards of ripped up wetsuits and clothes rain down on my car. There are even surf boards haling down that are severely damaged. This is a woman scorned. Immediately, my thoughts go to my most prized possession. I quickly dial my father’s number, eventually getting it right with my shaking hands.
“Hello?”
“Dad?! Did you get it?!”
“Not to worry, Mick. It’s right here beside me.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“I don’t know what you see in this old board, anyway. This must be your oldest one.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what board that is.”
“I do, but I want to hear the story again.”
My father was always the sentimental type. He makes me tell this story every time he sees it, or any time it’s even spoken about.
“Another time Dad, I have a crazed woman in my driveway now.”
“Oh my.” He said disappointingly.
I hung up the phone to face the fray.
SMASH!
“You fucking asshole! Who the hell do you think you are?!” Delia has run outside now with a baseball bat and is smashing my car with it. It makes me wish I was in my beater and not the Porsche.
My refusal to get out of the car just infuriates her more. Delia isn’t known for her calm nature at the best of times, and this was most certainly not her best time.
“Delia. Delia! Put the bat down…”
SMASH! She hits the windshield. It spiders out, throwing glass into the car. The bat, now lodged in the windshield, which gives me time to exit. I rush out of the car and nudge her away from the bat. She’s been crazy before, but this is an all-time high for her. I look into her tear-filled eyes as she continues to scream.
“You asshole! You cheated on me! How could you?!”
“What are you talking about? Calm down.” I know the pictures have gone public already. I know it. Shit.
“The pictures are all over Twitter, you with that girl, naked on the beach.”
Goddamned Internet. This was not good.
“Delia, I’m sorry. I truly am. This is not something I planned.”
“How could you, Mick?!”
“I’m sorry.”
“You and I are through!” she screams as she storms away.
Having no intention of stopping her, I hope this means she will be gone for good. That thought brings me temporary relief. The reality, though, will most likely not be so pleasant.
“Delia! Delia!” I yell, hoping that she’ll turn around. I want to finalize this. She needs to know this is the end. But she doesn’t turn, leaving everything between us still in the air.
Maybe she accepted it, maybe she didn’t. I’m not sure. It’s a sad moment as
I watch her walk away, but soon my sadness is replaced by horror. Sam will be the next one to see those photos!
I quickly take my phone out of my pocket, opening Twitter. There’s the picture of Sam and I nakedly holding hands. Hard not to appreciate how it looked. Just her and I. We stood with the sunrise at our backs, dimly-lit. We were both naked, but the nudity was muted due to the position of the sun. There’s no mistaking our faces, though. Below it, the caption reads,
“Looks like Mick has found a new boo. Who is this mystery woman? #doesyourgirlfirendknow”
Below that was a message from Delia. “If he found a new boo, he didn’t tell me #wearebrokenupnowmick.”
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Jaime. Oh crap! This is getting worse.
“Mick, you are a real piece of work. I am suspending your Twitter account. Don’t talk to anyone. This needs to be contained. We could lose a lot of endorsement money because of this.”
I don’t care about the endorsement money. That’s the least of my worries. I want to be sure Sam won’t find out.
I send Sam another text message. It feels like the last pleas of a man on death row. I’m hoping she’ll respond, give me some indication as to how much trouble I am in. Her lack of response means I won’t know if she’s seen the image or if she’s just busy. The wait is maddening. If she knows, I’m sure we’re through.
Chapter 8 - The battle of Futility – Sam
Vain: A Stepbrother Romance Page 4
