Surge : A Stepbrother Romance

Chapter
1 Sam – Day at the Beach

        I
remember that first time we made love, it still sends shivers down my spine. 

Ever
since we were kids, he was always chasing me around. Man, I hated Mick Anderson.
He was the cockiest asshole if ever there was one. His fame came to him only because
of his incredible surfing skills, and his friends came to him only because of
his money. Even now, I doubt there is anything redeeming about him at all. I
don’t like him because he is a child, because he doesn’t value surfing the way
I do, and because he is in my place of peace right now. He never had time for
my mother when she was alive, so what the fuck does he want with me now? How the
hell did he find this spot?

Watching
him paddle out in his wetsuit is just making me angrier. For some bizarre
reason, I find myself staring at his body.
Man, if I didn’t hate him so much,
I would really appreciate his impressive physique
. His body just seems to
fit into that wetsuit perfectly
. I can appreciate his body as perfection of the
human form, but he still disgusts me as a person
. As Mick starts paddling in
my direction, all I can do is hope for a wave to pull me away from him.

“Good
morning. Mind if I surf here with you?”

Even
his small talk and attempts at joking with me are annoying. I can’t even be
bothered to respond. I take the very next wave to avoid the interaction. The
wave is small and a little hard to ride—thankfully, my longboard keeps me
afloat. I look back at Mick, who is watching me. He picks up the wave right behind
me. Why is he so persistent?

He
has definitely turned up his game, now that I am looking. There is no denying his
talent—I can see why he was at the top of the pro-surfing world. Not paying
attention to my own ride, I lose my footing and plunge into the water. A sharp
pain pierces my head and darkness floods over my body.

I
wake up, coughing and sputtering, gazing into the bluest eyes I have ever seen.
It takes me some time to focus and realize I am staring up at Mick. He’s saved
my life. I’m shocked and frightened, filled with a sense of wonder.

“Are
you okay?” Mick asks. He looks angelic. Almost. As I look to him in my
vulnerable state, he isn’t only good-looking. There is something human in him,
something real. For the first time, I feel like I am looking at a real man.

I
begin to think about what would have happened if he wasn’t there. Truth is, I
would have been dead. I would have drowned in the ocean and no one would have
known. The moment overtakes me and I lunge up and hug Mick. He doesn’t hug me back
at first, but I suppose for him, it’s all a little confusing. After all, we are
stepbrother and sister.

He
anchors one arm around my back and holds me. I can feel his strength by his
grip. It feels as if he is supporting my entire body with one arm. I slide back
a bit, taking a full view of Mick. Neither of us say anything as we stare at
each other. There is a tension between us I had never before felt—a spark that ignites
in that very moment. I feel a little embarrassed and avert my eyes, my cheeks
burning with a hot flush. Mick puts his finger under my chin, lifting my head
up, and once more I’m lost in his gaze. His deep blue eyes are so captivating—I
feel as if he is staring endlessly into my soul. My stomach lurches as I
realize I’m holding feelings I shouldn’t for my stepbrother, and a man I’m
supposed to hate.

Maybe
these feelings aren’t real. Maybe I’m lying to myself so I won’t have to deal
with the impossibility, the impracticality, of the feelings I have at this very
moment.

Mick
holds my chin in his thumb and forefinger. My resistance melts as some unknown
force draws me closer to his lips. Magnetically charged, the space between us
disappears until I am touching his lips with mine. His mouth is as soft and
succulent as it looked. His breath is heavy on my ears, stirring up heat and
temptation within me. I can taste the salted water on his lips, despite their
sweetness.

Mick
runs his fingertip along my body, grazing my chest. He is trying to see how far
I will let him go. As if I had a plan for this to happen. I didn’t.

But
now, unexpectedly, I want him to touch me—I want to feel his hands all over my
body. All of this passionate hatred over all of these years have now burgeoned
into fiery lust. Without a thought, I tug at the zipper on his wetsuit, pulling
it all the way down. Mick stands up, pulling it off and revealing his flawless
body. His chest and abdominal muscles are defined in perfect lines—he is almost
godlike. At this moment, I feel infinite.

Mick
kneels down, sitting me up on the smooth sand and unzipping my wetsuit. I
clumsily try to get out of it myself, but can’t. Mick calmly pulls the wetsuit
from my body to let me free. He stares at me with all of my vulnerabilities
exposed, raking his gaze from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. It is a
little unnerving, but I feel a great comfort in his stare.

He
draws me close and starts kissing my neck. My head falls back in ecstasy and my
blood boils. Mick pulls the string of my bikini top, revealing my supple breasts
to the open air. Water crashes over our bodies, leaving me short of breath. Mick
is not bothered by the cold. He licks my nipples, teasing them with soft
pinches and pulls. It sends a shiver through me that lights my soul aflame.

Mick
places his hands on my waist, lifting me to my feet. He slowly peels the rest
of the wetsuit from my body, and then with his teeth, he tugs the string of my
bikini bottom and lets them drop to the sand. Mick begins to lick further down
my body to my most private of areas, causing my knees to buckle. As I stand
here, I can feel his tongue masterfully making its way around my gentle flower.
I begin to fall to the sand but Mick catches me by my waist, and now I am at
his mercy.

As
Mick holds his hand out, I look into his eyes and smile. It feels as if that is
the only part of my body I still control. Taking my hand, he leads me out into waist-deep
water. I follow his chiseled frame, unable to take my eyes off his statuesque
body. He’s remarkable. Mick turns to look at me with his devilish smile,
confirming the ensuing moment of ecstasy. The water is cold, but a fiery warmth
burns deeply inside of me, and the coldness fades away.

Looking
back at the beach, I notice it is still empty—it feels as if we are the only
people on earth. Mick reaches down for his board leash and pulls it towards us.
It comes to him as if this was all part of his master plan. He lifts me up and places
me, naked, on the board. The sun, still hanging low in the sky, feels warm
against my back. The wind gently licks my body, and everything seems so
surreal, so ethereal; in that moment, so perfect.

Mick
enters me as only he can: relentlessly and full of passion. His big, hard cock thrusts
inside of me, stretching my walls to their limits. I have never felt anyone
like him. He lifts me off the board, holding my legs, my arms hanging around
his neck. He makes love to me in that position while fighting the forceful waves
and gravity threatening to tear us apart, pull us under, separate us from our
moment of bliss. He stands as powerfully as Poseidon himself.

I
kiss him passionately, bent almost in half as he takes me—the feeling is so
intense that I am already about to come. My eyes begin to close involuntarily
and my body tenses. Mick increases his pace, taking my cue. I can’t hold back
any longer as the rush of adrenaline and ecstasy converge. With a squeal, I come
harder than I ever have before.

And
with me, Mick finds his release. He fills me with his seed, panting as he
convulses to a stop. We stare into each other’s eyes, our chests heaving, our
bodies still bound by one another’s flesh. Then the next wave crashes over us
both, displacing us from our feet and each other. The water carries us to the
beach as I once again catch view of Mick.
If that wave hadn’t separated us, I
don’t think we would have ever been apart.

When
we emerge, Mick walks close to me, taking my hand. We look outward together at
the sea and the sunrise. There are no words required, no looks that need to be
exchanged. What has happened, happened as it should, and now before us lies nothing
but peace and tranquility.

Mick
turns and walks with me to an unknown destination. We arrive at his car and sit
inside, still without the need to speak. It is as if speaking will ruin the
moment and the moment only calls for silence

I
will never forget that first time I fucked Mick Anderson, and I cannot fully
say it was without regret. This is the road less traveled by, and I am most
certainly all the wiser.

Chapter 2 - Samantha

        As
I step out into the cool morning air, the scent of the ocean permeates my
senses. I look at the sun breaking over the horizon, the warming glow hinting at
the weather of the day. I take a deep breath to inhale the openness and
tranquility that accompany a morning by the sea. The view is one that I will
never grow tired of. It provides the opportunity of complete solace. I love
everything this view and hope to never leave

The
recent events in my life have come to pass because of John, so in some ways, I
suppose I should thank him. If he wasn’t as despicable as he was. I just might
have expressed that gratitude, but he has no idea where I live—I made sure of
that. Once I left John, I was liberated in many ways. There were a lot of
decisions that needed to be made, and none of them easy.

I
decided to start my own business. I had taken a great deal of time to make the
decision—both decisions. Leaving John and starting my own business were two of
the most difficult things I had ever done. The fear of failing in both love and
business were very frightening concepts at first, but it soon became clear that
they were the best decisions I have ever made.

I
left John because of the abuse.
What a fool I was.
It took a great deal
of strength to fully understand the toxicity of our relationship, and once I
knew I deserved better, I left. Before John, I thought women who couldn’t leave
an abusive relationship were weak. When I was immersed in one, I realized just
how hard it was to leave. The experience left me wanting to help others, yet
all I knew was surfing. I made it my goal to try and empower women through teaching
them how to do it, too.

As
an employee of one of the many surf schools in Huntington Beach, I saw so many
ways to improve the way people were being taught. After my ordeal with John, I
hated the idea of working for someone. It felt like they were in control of my
life. So with a maxed-out credit card, I opened my school in the very
competitive Huntington Beach market. I was ready for the battle.

The
US Open will be coming here soon, which should greatly benefit the school. The
US Open is one of the most highly regarded surfing competitions in the world. The
event could bring thousands of tourists wanting to learn how to surf. Even
though Huntington Beach doesn’t have the best waves in the country, it’s the
place where surfing was born—everyone wants to be in Surf City, USA.

At
this time of the year, Huntington Beach is alive with people. Throngs of tourists
and locals crowd the beach all day long. With this number of people, I am bound
to have a successful summer.

I
walk back into my house to get ready and head out for the day. Looking over at
the clock, I see it is already six a.m.
I grab my wetsuit and stop by
the mirror to take a look at myself. The bags under my eyes are indicative of
the long hours I have been putting in to get this business off the ground
. My
blue eyes still look beautiful,
I say to myself.
Go get a surf in, you
will feel much better.

I
place my wetsuit into the van and load my board inside. As I set the board
down, I begin to think where my life was when I bought that board. So much has
changed. When I first moved to the area, I was living in a much harsher part of
town. That was when I was running from John. The past was a vicious cycle that
was hard to break away from, and so whenever I look at my board, I look at a point
in my life where things were becoming better.

As
I drive to San Onofre, astounding views of picturesque mountains and rolling
hills fill the California sky. This is what the surfing experience should be
like. For me, it’s one of the most meditative, spiritual pursuits one can have.
My love of surfing came to me when my parents separated. Something about it was
so liberating, so captivating, so effortless. Swimming out into the ocean with
nothing but a board and my soul is like heaven to me.

I
continue my drive to the state park, the state park that reside on the ocean
and one of my favorite places to surf. I am actually going to the military base
portion of the park. The Department of Defense has certain designated areas all
over the country that are military campgrounds. These are reserved for friends
and family, as it was explained to me. Normally, the park is closed to the
public, but thankfully I have a military friend who gets me into the beach
anytime. That allows me to surf when there were very few, if any, people there
at all. I pull up to the gate.

“Good
Morning.”

The
guard smiles. “Morning, Samantha. Go right in.”

They
haven’t asked me to wait here for months. I have met most of the guards at the
gate, by this point. I park my car, throw on my wetsuit, take out my board, and
head out to the surf.

What
a glorious day
,
I think to myself. The waves are long and low, the tide steady and welcoming. These
are the conditions I love to surf in. I catch my first wave and it takes me all
the way to shore. The gentle push of the ocean and the sun glistening off the
waves is my idea of perfection. I feel free at San Onofre, gliding over the
water with grace and ease. This place, these waters—they have carried me
through many sad times.

After
catching some great waves I peek down at my watch. I could stay here all day,
but
I need to get home and be sure I am ready for my first lesson. I am
a business owner, after all.

I
pull back into my driveway just as my phone rings.

“Hello?”
I answer.

“Samantha?”

I
frown. The voice sounds concerned. “Yes?”

“It’s
Jim over at Corkey’s Surf School. Listen, I would never ask this of anyone
else, and I know you don’t know me that well, but something terrible has
happened that I need to attend to. I have no one to take my nine a.m. lesson. Is
there any way you can take the lesson for me? You can keep all the money. I
just hate to disappoint my customers.”

Honestly,
this is the moment I have been waiting for. I want to show the commercial surf
world that we, as instructors, create a community of surfers. Despite the competition
for business that goes on between us, I want to show all of them that we all
have a love and respect for the sport.

“Jim—no
problem at all. Send me the particulars. I have a class at ten a.m., though, so
it may be tight. If you could let your client know, I would be happy to help
out. After all, we are fighting the same fight—and there is lots of business to
go around.”

Jim
seemed overjoyed. “You are a lifesaver! Thank you so much. Can I text the client’s
information to this number?”

I
do not hesitate. “Absolutely. I hope it all works out.”

“Thanks
again, Sam. I owe you one.”

With
no time to lose, I hop back in my car and race to Jim’s spot on the beach. I meet
with his client, an older man of about fifty years who always wanted to learn
to surf. For a man of his age, he is quite nimble and very capable. Throughout
the lesson, he keeps telling me how much he is enjoying himself. For me,
moments like these are the ones I live for. The rest of my day is packed with back-to-back
lessons of both kids and adults. I always make sure that people know my
philosophy on surfing—all ages, all generations can surf. Most importantly is,
surfing is not a competition. Surfing is personal. No judgement allowed, ever.

Exhausted
after a long day in the sun, I make my way to the local pub on the beach. I
pick a spot in the back of the bar to avoid being bothered. As soon as I order
my beer, I see Mick and he is coming over to harass me. Mick is my overly
successful stepbrother. He has made his money by somehow becoming the best
professional surfer in the world. When we were kids, if you would have asked me
if I thought he would amount to anything, the answer would be no. All he did
was smoke pot, drink beer, and surf. Who knew that would be training for his career?
I hated Mick. I hated Mick like oil hated water.

“Hey there, young
lady.

I am less than amused.
“What do you want?”

“Can a guy not
come over and say hello to his sister?” He smirks.

“You have said ‘hello,’
now go away.”

As always, Mick is
persistent. “How is your surf school going?”

“Going great Mick,
thanks for asking.” I say sarcastically.

He laughs. “I
can’t believe you are teaching surfing. I am a way better surfer than you.”

“Mick,
surfing and teaching surfing are two different things. You don’t have the
intelligence or patience to teach.”

 He
narrows his eyes. “Anyone can do it. In fact I am sure I can do a hell of a lot
better than you.”

I
take a step back so I don’t lose my cool. “Okay, then. Put your money where
your mouth is.”

“Gladly,
what’s the bet?”

“I
bet I am a better instructor than you. How about this: if I can teach more
people how to stand up on a board tomorrow than you can, then you have to publicly
endorse my surfing school.”

“And
what do I get if I win?” he asks.

        I
hesitate. “Well, what do you want?”

The
corners of his mouth curl up in the most unnerving of ways. If I didn’t know
better, I could swear he is undressing me with his eyes. I am starting to feel
naked and uncomfortable.

“Well, what?” I
stammer.

“I
will think of something and let you know.” Mick looks away with that same smirk
on his face. I don’t trust it, but regardless, there is no way he was going to
win this bet.

“Okay.
So we have a deal?”

Mick
obnoxiously shakes my hand too hard. “Deal.”

I
can’t believe he agreed to that. Mick is not able to focus on anything for more
than two minutes. He has no idea how to teach and no patience for anyone. This
could really be a big deal for my school.
Everyone
knows Mick Anderson. His
endorsement could make me a very wealthy woman.

“How
will I find you?” Mick asks.

“Meet
me at the pier tomorrow at two p.m.” I raise my chin.

His
eyebrows suddenly lower. “Okay, Sam, but this is ridiculous. I’m the best
surfer in the world. You’re just a low-level instructor.”

I
stand up to leave. So many of my interactions with Mick end this way. He makes
me so angry, and I am not about to make a scene. Not here. I walk past Mick
face to face, thinking angry thoughts.
His eyes are so beautiful. Wow, I
never really noticed. Has he always been this good-looking?
I shake my
head, both in disappointment at myself and at him.
Focus, Sam. Focus.

“Fuck
you, Mick.” With my finger held high, I make sure he knows how I feel as I walk
past him. “If you don’t show tomorrow, I will consider that your admission of
failure and endorsement of my school.”