by Bebe Wilde
He used to spend all the money we had on fishing rods and guns and dogs. And of course he always had to have a truck to drive his dogs around and a boat to fish in. Some of the dogs he bought were two and three thousand dollars each! And, don’t overlook the fact that we lived in a small house and didn’t have much money. The bottom line was that my dad wasn’t worth a shit. He was only interested in hunting and fishing. That was it. I was suddenly proud of my mother for kicking him out.
I stopped and thought about it. Was Bear like my dad but instead of hunting and fishing, his obsession was surfing? I froze. The parallel was so close it was hard to deny. Oh, my God, had I picked a man like my dad? Was I that cliché? I thought about it. It was almost the same thing, minus the dogs and the woods. Just substitute surfboards and waves for the guns and boats and you had the same, exact thing. I shuddered at the thought. Of course, my dad could never make any money from his hobby/habit. Bear could but he wouldn’t.
But, even so, Bear was a lot different than my dad. I thought about it. Yes, he was. A lot. My dad wasn’t a nice man, not really. Bear was. He was charming and he did care. And he was so sweet sometimes I felt bad for ever being mean to him. He never hesitated to tell me he loved me. He’d do anything I asked, all I had to do was say the word. Well, he’d eventually get to it, on his own time, on his own terms, but he would do it.
However, the thought didn’t escape my mind, had I picked the wrong man? He wasn’t poor, not at all. He just didn’t have a lot of ambition other than surfing. When he was surfing, all he thought about was getting better, doing more, being riskier. But off the board, he just didn’t seem to care. And that’s what drove me crazy. How could he not want more? How could he not? I knew I was at a crossroads. Soon, I’d have to make the decision: To either stay with Bear or leave and find something new. I wasn’t after a new man because he kept me very satisfied and was very fun to be around, but I wanted something more, something new. I knew if I didn’t get it, I’d start to feel all kinds of resentment towards him and that would lead to a lot of ugly arguments. And we’d probably end up breaking up anyway.
I thought about that for a moment before I remembered when we’d first met, almost six years earlier. I’d come out to California with my boyfriend at the time, a nice guy named Jed. He wanted to be a director and convinced me to move out here with him, telling me I could be an actress. I didn’t have a lot going on at the time so I agreed. It seemed like an adventure but as soon as we got here, reality set in and I realized I wanted to go back home. And that I didn’t love Jed. We got into a big fight and I left our apartment, got in my old, beat up Toyota and drove over to the Pacific Coast Highway. With the ocean beside me, my mind cleared and I knew I was moving back home. California was not the place for me, after all.
Feeling fairly good about my decision, I stepped on the gas while listening to a great tune on the radio, then all of a sudden my front tire blew out. I almost lost control of the car but luckily regained it and managed to pull over to the side of the road. I cursed then got out as the traffic dangerously whizzed by me. I stood there for a moment wondering why the hell I ever wanted to come to California in the first place because it was so expensive and the pay at my job was so low. At the time, I was working as a receptionist in a law firm and it was hard to make ends meet. Jed worked sporadically as a waiter and a bar back or whatever he could get his hands on. But he didn’t care about how much money we needed to live on. All he cared about was getting a movie made, which was his goal, his true desire. It’s all he talked about, all he wanted—a movie deal! He went to meetings all the time and when he wasn’t working one of his crappy jobs, he was working on one of his many screenplays, poring over it on his laptop at the kitchen table. There wasn’t any time for us, just time for his dreams and aspirations.
So, one day I just had it with him. The day I left, I had been so frustrated with him I told him he cared more about getting a movie deal than about me. Of course, he scoffed when I said this but it was true. I could see it in his eyes when he denied it. At that, I burst into tears and flew out of the apartment. He was such a dud! Why had I ever even dated him? Well, we’d known each other in high school. He liked me and asked me out a few times. Well, more than a few, but I just wasn’t interested in him. After a while, I relented and we soon became a couple. Once high school ended, he went off to film school and we broke up. Several years later, he came back and started calling me. We became friends, seeing each other at barbeques and parties. After a while, we sort of gravitated towards one another and ended up dating. Then he’d convinced me to move out to LA. I was older then and so was he and I thought we had the maturity to handle it. I had thought he would take care of me but soon realized that I couldn’t really depend on him. Whenever I’d bring this up, he’d say, “Willa, these things take time. I am going to get a movie made and it is going to be a big blockbuster and then you can have everything you ever wanted. I swear to you! But you have to let me do this!”
But I couldn’t take it anymore. I just had to get out of there and away from him. And so, that’s what brought me to the Pacific Coast Highway, staring at my flat tire. I realized then I should have gone to college, as my mother had suggested. I realized that with the choices I’d made that I’d always be in low-paying jobs and wondering how I could come up with the money for a new tire. And the tire was fucked, I could see that. It was almost bald to begin with and now it had a big piece of metal lodged in the side of it.
Before I could start cursing, an old beat-up SUV of some sort—what what I would later learn was affectionately known as the Beast—pulled up, Bear jumped out and said, “I see you need some help. Can I be of assistance?”
Could he? I was suddenly speechless. He looked like a vision. He was tall and tanned and ripped. His cool, beat-up looking khakis were baggy and yet looked good and the t-shirt he’d thrown on was worn-out but hugged his chest, showing off his superb muscles. His hair was bleached by the sun and his eyes hidden behind a cool pair of expensive looking sunglasses. He was probably the best looking guy I’d seen since I’d been out there. I was almost mesmerized by him. He looked cool. He acted cool. He was cool. I liked that. I liked it a lot. Who was this guy?
“Flat tire?” he said and walked over to it, bent down and looked up at me then shook his head, laughing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a piece of metal that big stuck in a tire before. You’re not carrying around a magnet, are you?”
I thought about that and laughed, then shook my head. “No, it’s just my dumb luck.”
“Lucky for you, I came by,” he said and grinned. “I love rescuing damsels in distress.”
I didn’t tell him I could change my own tire. My mother had always made me learn things like that, lest I become too dependent on a man. But I wanted to see what he could do.
He motioned for me to open the trunk of my car and then he pulled out the jack and my donut spare and in no time flat, had the tire changed and everything back in the trunk.
“That wasn’t too hard,” he said, grinning at me.
I smiled back. “Thanks.”
He nodded. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I said. “What are you doing?”
“I was going somewhere,” he said and looked up the highway, then back at me. “But I think I changed my mind.”
“Oh, don’t let me keep you,” I said. “Thanks for changing my tire.”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.
“What did you mean?”
He shook his head and smiled at me. “Nothing. I didn’t mean anything. So, what are you doing? Where were you going?”
I shrugged. “Just out driving. I had a fight with my boyfriend. I really want to move back home, to Tennessee and he doesn’t and… Well, I don’t know. I guess I should get back. He might be worried about me.”
He stared at me. “I should have known you were taken. But, hey, if you want to get a bite and talk about your
troubles, I know a great taco joint.”
I shook my head and laughed a little, just loving his smooth talk. He was charmer, that was for sure. “No, no thanks. I’d better get back.”
“Oh, come on,” he said. “What’s a taco?”
Of course, I knew it wouldn’t just be a taco. But then again, why couldn’t it just be a taco? A taco wasn’t much of a commitment. I thought about my apartment, the dank small hole in West Hollywood I called home and burst into tears. It was one of those days. And, without a word, Bear took me into his arms and held me as I cried. He told me everything was going to be alright and that I should come home with him, that he could pick up some good craft-brewed beer for us. I didn’t know what that meant exactly but I agreed. I don’t know why I did, but I followed him home and was shocked that his house was so close to the ocean. And even though it was a little run down and a little dumpy, it was cute, too. It was a typical tiny clapboard beach house. The interior just had normal beat-up looking furniture a guy would pick out because most of them don’t give a rat’s ass what anything looks like as long as it’s comfortable. However, the well worn oak floors set the rooms off, which flowed right into each other. The bathroom had old school subway tile, an old rounded pedestal sink and a claw foot tub with a wraparound shower curtain rod that hung from the ceiling. I fell in love with it, with its charm. I also fell in love with the palm trees in the front yard and the old garage out back. It was such a typical California beach bungalow, like something you’d see in an old movie or on a postcard.
We went out to the backyard, sat on the patio and talked and drank beers until way in the night. It was just he and I and no one else. I think I feel in love with him that night and as soon as he gave me a small, sweet kiss on the cheek at my car, I knew we’d be together.
“Don’t leave,” he whispered. “You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” I said.
“No big deal,” he replied with a grin. “Come on. I won’t bite, I promise.”
I couldn’t help but smile at him then follow him back into the house. We went into the bedroom and he gave me an old, but super soft t-shirt. “You can wear this to sleep in if you like and there’s a new toothbrush in the bathroom and some towels.”
I took it and smiled. “Thanks.”
“No problem whatsoever.”
“Are you sure about this?” I said. “I don’t want to put you out or anything.”
“You are not putting me out,” he said. “Don’t think another thing about it.”
I bit my bottom lip and nodded. “Okay then.”
“I love your accent,” he said, grinning at me. “I have a thing for Southern girls.”
“Do you now?” I asked and grinned at him.
“Well, I didn’t until I met you.”
That was a total panty dropper thing to say. He was too good. He was such a charmer. And those looks, the way he talked… Ummm… It wouldn’t take much to jump into bed with him just to see how good it would be. I was curious but I held off. It was too soon.
He nodded. “It’s getting late. Go get some rest now. You’ll sleep good in my room. You can really hear the ocean from there.”
He was right. I did just that and had one of the most peaceful, restful nights of sleep in my life. Maybe it was the proximity to the beach and the lulling sound of the ocean. Maybe it was because, for the first time since I’d arrived in California, I felt safe. That’s how Bear made me feel, safe.
When I awoke, I smiled at the sun streaming into the room from the window. I sat up and looked around. The room was small and the bed took up most of the space. But it was a nice, old iron bed with a firm mattress. He had a dresser to the side which looked overstuffed with clothes. There wasn’t much artwork on the walls, save for the occasional nicely framed poster of some champion surfer riding a big wave.
He entered the bedroom carrying breakfast on tray. He sat it down in front of me and smiled. I smiled back and looked at all the food—waffles, eggs and bacon and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I smiled up at him.
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” I said. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“You can take advantage all you like,” he said. “But it’s no trouble at all. But I bet your boyfriend never does anything like this.”
He was right about that. He never did. “Maybe he’s not the one for me,” I said and picked up a piece of bacon, staring him dead in the eye and took a bite. Like I was fooling anyone. It was obvious that Jed wasn’t the one for me. I’d tried calling him earlier and he hadn’t answered, probably because he was still pissed about our argument, so I left him a voicemail telling him it was over and that I was staying with a friend from work. And it was over. I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, but I knew I wasn’t going to be spending any more time with him.
He grinned. “You’re right. I don’t think he is.”
I smiled back and finished the bacon off, smiling at him as I chewed. I felt like, really hot for this guy. He was hot. And I mean hot. That made me hot for him. I wanted him. I’d never in my life had such a strong connection with a man before. It was very sexual and a little overwhelming but it felt right, like we were meant to meet and then we were meant to have some wild, hot sex. But I couldn’t be that easy, could I? I wasn’t a slut, never had been. I was one of those women who could take sex or leave it. But maybe I only felt that way because I’d never been adequately turned on by a man before. Until now, anyway.
“Just break up with him,” he said and took the tray off the bed and placed it on the dresser. “Tell him it’s over.”
“It’s over,” I said as he climbed over me on his hands and knees.
“Tell him you’re with me now,” he said and touched the tip of his nose to mine.
“I’m with you now,” I said as his lips brushed mine. I felt sparks explode inside of me just at that slight touch.
“Tell him you’re going to live happily ever after,” he whispered, his lips so close to mine I could feel his breath. “With me.”
“I’m going to live happily… Wait a minute,” I said, pulling back and staring into his eyes. “Who are you?”
“I’m just me,” he said and brushed his lips against mine ever so softly. “I’m just Bear. Who are you?”
“Willa,” I said and opened my mouth to receive his kiss. “They call me Willa.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said and kissed me, then pulled back. “Again.”
I laughed a little, as we’d already introduced ourselves when he’d fixed my tire. But this time was different. We were really going to get to know each other now and apparently, we were going to get to know each other in the best way possible.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I replied.
He nodded and bent down and bit at my nipple through my shirt. I moaned and it hardened. He began to suck at it while his other hand went under my shirt and grabbed my other breast. He squeezed it, then began to stroke it with his thumb. I got wet at having him play and suck at my breasts like that. My hands were in his hair, then I pulled his face back to mine and we kissed. It was an awesome kiss, a good, deep, tongue stroking, eating at each other’s mouths kiss. I couldn’t get enough and found myself opening my legs and him getting between them, pressing into me, his dick already hard.
He pulled back and his lips went to my neck, stroking it slowly with his tongue, then sucking at it intently, then back to the stroking. The sensations he was giving me were sending me over the edge, making me want him. I did pause for a second and wonder what I was doing. I’d just met this guy, after all. I didn’t know him but somehow it all felt right, like we were meant to come together like this.
“I want you naked,” he said and pulled my shirt over my head, then bent down to pull off my panties. He stared at me for a long second, then smiled deeply. “You have got a rockin’ body,” he said. “H
ow’d I get this lucky?”
How I’d gotten this lucky was the real question. I’d never been with anyone like him. The way he stared at my naked body made me feel like a woman, like someone who was wanted. And he wanted me. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted all of me, every single square inch.
He bent down and kissed me as his hand went to my breast and squeezed. Ahhh, that felt so good. The hand went lower and lower until it was between my legs, playing with me down there. I moaned softly and he moved down and began to lick and suck at my breasts again, taking a nipple into his mouth and biting at it ever so slightly. I ran my hands through his hair, loving the way he was kissing me there, on my breast, while his hand was moving between my legs, teasing my clit, stroking it, making me want to come. I was about to do just that when he stopped, moved his body down and pushed his head between my legs. I almost sat up at the shock of pleasure that gave me, his lips on me down there. And he was beginning to suck at me, eat at me, all the while stroking me with his finger. He really, really got into it, giving it everything he had. There was no hesitancy here, nothing but good cunnilingus. It was too much and before I could stop myself, I found myself humping his face and coming so quickly it make my head spin. And after the orgasm dissipated, I couldn’t stop moving against his face. It’s like the orgasm gave me aftershocks or something.
