There is not a single doubt in my mind.
I am completely and utterly in love with Bella Knight.
Fuck.
It’s not something I ever planned on happening — in fact, it’s something I have actively avoided my whole life.
Yet, this little brat of a girl walks in and all of a sudden I’m struck by cupid’s arrow and my entire life plan is thrown out the window.
I’m sitting on my surfboard on the sand watching her catch a peelerback to shore.
If I’d been asked to make a checklist of my dream girl, she would be it. I’ve never shared my morning surfing ritual with anyone, never even dreamed of it.
I love spending hours out on the water, catching wave after wave or just sitting at the line-up watching and observing. Alone.
Yet, here I am, happier to watch her than participate myself, to the point that for the last half hour I’ve not even been in the water. Choosing to sit on the beach and watch my girl.
I watch her approach, one of my spare boards tucked under her arm. She looks ridiculously adorable wearing one of my fullsuits, which is far too big for her. We rolled it up as much as we could at the arms and legs but it still absolutely drowns her. I’ve already mentally ordered her a couple to keep here, as well as her own board. Now I just need to work out how to keepherhere.
I’m all in — kids, marriage, the whole nine-fucking-yards. I want everything with her.
“That was amazing!” She’s got the biggest grin on her face as she plops down in the sand next to me.
“I thought you’d be a kook,” I say, referring to the term we use for a beginner or inexperienced surfer.
“What?” she splutters. “Reed, I was born and raised in Malibu, I am no kook!” she cries outraged.
“Well, obviously, I know that now,” I nod towards the ocean. “I just hadn’t expected it. Your Dad’s never spoken about surfing.”
I internally cringe at bringing him up. I’m going to have to have a conversation with him soon. I already know it is not going to go well. My playboy lifestyle, that he is all too aware of, is going to come back and bite me in the ass.
“Oh, no,” she laughs. “Dad, doesn’t surf. He’s suddenly very British again whenever we try and get him to go. It’s something Beau and I have always done.”
It’s easy to forget sometimes that George Knight wasn’t born here in the U.S. He moved to the States for college, where he met and married Bella’s mom, Valerie.
“How often do you do this?”
“Most mornings; it’s my workout.” Don’t get me wrong, I hit the weights as well and I’ve been known to go for a run too, but my main workout is, and always will be, surfing.
“Ready to head back and hit the shower?” She nods, stands up and goes to grab her board. “Don’t be ridiculous,” I mutter, grabbing it before she can and carrying them both back to the house.
I make my way to the outdoor shower which is just through the gate of my backyard and wash down the boards before stepping under the spray myself and pulling her with me.
I turn her in my arms and drag down the zipper on her suit, stripping her of it so she’s standing before me naked. I give her my back so she can do the same for me, both of us soon standing under the spray, our bare skin pressed against each other.
My lips take hers, kissing her sweetly, telling her without words what she means to me. My tongue slowly explores her mouth, stroking gently against hers, stealing her taste and taking what’s mine. I pull away from her and place a quick kiss to the tip of her nose before reaching for the shampoo on the shelf and washing her hair.
She groans her approval as my fingers massage her scalp, ensuring I wash all the saltwater out of her long locks.
“Hmm, how did you get so good at this?” she moans. “Shit, no, don’t answer that,” she quickly adds. I spank her for that little comment, less than impressed with what she’s implying.
“You’re my first. I might be having all of your firsts, but believe me when I say you’ve been getting a lot of mine, too.” I tip her head back and rinse out the bubbles, ensuring the water runs clear from her strands before reaching for the conditioner.
Once her hair and body is all clean, I quickly wash myself, feeling her eyes on me the whole time. I take a bit longer than I would normally, giving her a show.
“Enjoying the view?” My head is tipped back under the spray and my eyes are closed, but I know she’s watching me. My cock twitches at the thought. I take my erection in my hand and give it a good tug.
“Fuck,” she whispers.
