Page 17 of The Surfer

I really, reallyhate being talked about as if I’m not standing right there nearly touching his thick cock.

I need a shower.

“Cove! Come back to bed!”

The voice comes from within Cove’s room, from what I presume is Cove’s bed. A female voice.

Cove rolls his eyes at the mention of his name.

There’s a girl in his bed? Right now?

“Who’s this one, then?” Sandy asks, her arms crossed. Judging from her nonchalant reaction, this is clearly a daily occurrence in their household.

“I can’t remember,” Cove replies, casually scratching the back of his bleach-blonde hair. “I do think her name starts with T, though.”

“Well, that’s a whole lot more knowledge than you have of the girl in your bed yesterday.”

“Cove!” The girl in the bedroom seductively calls out again, the voice echoing through the open-plan house and into the wide kitchen where we’re standing.

A girl is currently in his bed and Cove’s standing stark naked in front of us. This is definitely not how I’m expecting my first morning in Australia to go.

And I still urgently need that shower.

“I should go. My horde of adoring fans need me,” Cove says. He sneers at me again. “Nice to meet you, Ripley Sailor. In my opinion, it’ll be best for you to just jump on the next plane back to wherever in America you came from. I would say see you around, but hopefully, I don’t.”

And with that snide remark, he turns around and heads straight back into his room, slamming his door shut behind him, giving me a clear view of his ripped back and his tight muscular ass. I also get a clear view of the small dolphin-shaped tattoo sitting in the middle of his lower back.

A dolphin tattoo? Strange.

And then he’s gone.

I stand completely still, amazed by our brief encounter. He’s like a gust of forceful wind, and he very nearly blew me over. I don’t know whether to hate him for what he’s said to me or fancy his toned irresistible body. I explain my lust away for being the wild thoughts of a jetlagged mind.

You’re being delusional, Ripley.

But that surfer boy has put an impression on me. Something I know I can’t shake off easily.

But, as Sandy has said, Cove is a bad boy. A player. A guy who doesn’t care about who he hurts. A guy who is still hurting from his accident a year ago. A guy who doesn’t want anyone close to his heart, not even his sister.

He’s rude, arrogant, and cocky. A list of personality traits I most despised. I should hate him.

To put it bluntly, Cove is on the very bottom of the list of people I’d want to fuck right now.

When his bedroom door shuts close Sandy turns to me.

“Now you see what we’re dealing with here?”

“Oh,” I reply with total conviction. “I definitely see.”