Surge : A Stepbrother Romance (4 page)

Chapter 7 Mick – Paparazzi

        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
attention is 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
8 Mick -
A Woman Scorned

        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.