Finally, I reached the sand, kicked off my shoes and scoured the beach. It took a minute, but when my eyes fell on someone sitting on the sand, long blonde hair hanging down her back knotted in a braid, I started moving in her direction.
The closer I got the more my body paid attention. I’m not sure how my dick was sitting up and paying attention. The truth was, the reason I was running late was I’d spent a little too long in the shower, cock in hand, picturing Claire’s pouty lips wrapped around me. I knew I couldn’t show up without rubbing one out. The problem was, one wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the first shower that made me lose track of time. It was the second.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed away all my dirty thoughts and cleared my throat. Claire looked up, and I almost choked on air. She was more stunning than I’d remembered, but that wasn’t what had me feeling like an arsehat. It was the disappointment written all over her face.
“Hey, Claire,” I started dumbly.
“Oh. Hey, Seth,” she replied unenthusiastically.
“Look, sorry I’m late. I…I…I don’t have a good excuse. I’m just really sorry.”
Claire stood up, brushing the sand off her butt. The other day when we’d been running, I thought she looked fucking hot in her workout clothes, but seeing her in nothing more than her simple black swimsuit was giving me more ammo for the spank bank. “Well, I guess I should be grateful that you didn’t lie.”
“I am sorry.”
“Well, let’s just get on with it.”
“Okay. What are we doing?” I asked, trying to inject some excitement into the afternoon. I had some work to do if I was going to turn this around.
“Just waiting for someone. Oh, here he comes now,” Claire commented, pointing out at a wetsuit clad figure surfing like a pro on the wave rolling in.
He dived off his board into the whitewash before standing up, putting his board under his arm, and shaking the water from his hair. As he jogged up the beach towards us, my stomach sank. This guy looked smooth and confident, and I knew he could hold his own out there. Something that obviously impressed Claire.
“Looking good out there.” Claire smiled up at him, handing him a towel.
“I look good everywhere, Claire. You know that,” he replied smoothly.
I felt like a third wheel. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all.
“Still haven’t got that ego under control, have you?” Claire asked.
“Well, you know me, Claire Bear.” He dropped his arm around her shoulder, and she dug her finger into his ribs.
“Behave, Warner.”
“Never.”
I was just about to turn and leave when Claire remembered I was still standing there like a chump. “Warner, this is Seth. Seth, Warner,” she made introductions that didn’t give anything away.
Reaching out, I shook his hand, not missing how he tightened his grip deliberately. “Hey, man.”
“All right. Enough with the dick measuring,” Claire admonished, looking from me to pretty boy Warner. “Seth, we’re going surfing. And Warner here is going to help you.”
“I don’t need help,” I answered quickly. Even if I did need help, which I didn’t, the last person I’d be asking was this guy.
Ignoring my comment, Claire pressed on. “Warner’s a lifeguard at one of the other beaches, and he’s been surfing since he was a kid. He’s going to share some tips and tricks with you.”
Warner looked smug. His arm was still draped around Claire’s shoulders, his hand hovering dangerously close to her boob with its pointed nipple pressing against the skin-tight black Lycra.
“So, you ever surfed before, Sean?” Warner asked.
“It’s Seth,” I muttered through my locked jaw.
To think I’d been looking forward to this afternoon only to have this dickweed ruin it. I get that Claire thought she was doing the right thing, but I’d rather get knocked off my board and get publicly humiliated every time than have lover boy teach me to surf.
“Sorry, man.”
He wasn’t, but he was damn good at pretending.
