This came out of nowhere. I wasn't planning on doing this until later, and even then it was only going to be once.
But he's insistent and wouldn't let me continue without getting a word in.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but a uncooperative, sulking Bella who refuses to talk to me.
A loud ringing beside my ear wakes me, and eyes still closed, I fumble in the dark hotel room for my phone.
It's Emmett. "Yep. Gimme twenty."
I toss the phone aside and take a deep breath, groaning into a stretch. I sat up talking to Bella way too late; I feel like I've only been asleep for a minute.
I rub my eyes, I scrub my hands over my head, and I palm my dick.
Like I have for the past week, I've woken up with a massive boner. Even the slide of the sheet against me makes it twitch, and my stomach clench.
I really have to start wearing boxers to bed or something.
It's not l like I've never woken up with my dick hard. But this isn't the kind of thing that'll go away when I piss, and after a couple of days of this, it's getting ridiculous. I don't even know what I've been dreaming about that has me waking up so keyed up.
Thank fuck I don't have to share a room with Emmett anymore.
Sitting on the side of the bed, I try to get my shit together and wake up. My phone is still on the pillow beside me, and leaning over, I put it back on the side table and chug the rest of the bottle of water that's there, wishing the ache in my balls would settle so I can walk to the bloody shower.
It's just before six in the morning, and as tired as I am, the itch has already settled in. I can hear the boys next door already up and moving around, the quiet rumble of voices vibrating through the wall. It's the day before the Keramas Pro, and we've done nothing but train since we arrived in Bali. Today is the first day off I've had since we arrived, and I had planned to sleep in. Looks like Emmett has other plans.
I scratch my cheek roughly, vowing to have a shave before the day is out. It's at that weird stage where it's so long it's starting to itch like fuck. Plus the management team say we're s'posed to be clean shaven at events to maintain our "public image". Between my almost-beard, and the head shaving incident, it's probably best that I toe the line.
I don't even know why I haven't shaved, maybe it's because Bella always liked it when I didn't, or because I'm just a lazy fuck who'd rather be out carving waves than shaving.
Looking down, I find the situation with my dick hasn't changed much. I've still got half a bar and I've gotta be ready in fifteen minutes. I don't know if I can shove my dick into a wettie the way it is. Plus, my brother doesn't wanna see that shit.
Guess there's only one thing for it.
I grab my phone again, swiping my thumb across the banged up screen, unlocking it.
There she is.
My dick twitches again and so does my mouth, cos she does that - she makes me smile.
Licking my lips, I open up my photos and scroll through. She'd flip out if she knew I had half of these, but I'm a sneaky fuck like that.
There's heaps of us at the beach and stuff, making those stupid faces at the camera, looking like a pair of idiots. But there's a couple that I took when she wasn't looking, too. Some of her on the beach in her bathers, and at the pub and stuff. But my favourite is the one where she's asleep.
Jesus, maybe she's right, I am a creep.
It's just such a fucking great photo.
Her legs are so long, and her tits are perfect. I know she thinks they're small or whatever, but I love them. They fit in my hand and my mouth like they were made to be there. I remember taking the photo. I remember having that stupid just-fucked grin on my face, and the smell of her room when I came back in; like her body and mine, and the smell of us: that sweet, kind of sweaty smell that lingered in the air. The sheet covers her in the one place I want to see, but what's there is enough; her legs and hips and an expanse of her perfect skin, and Christ, I need to get into the shower before I blow my load all over the hotel carpet.
Chucking the phone back onto the nightstand, I walk awkwardly into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me in case Emmett decides to make a surprise visit. I should never have given him a key to my room.
It's not even six am and I'm already hot, the tropical humidity clings to me from the moment I wake to the moment I go to sleep, but the idea of a cold shower doesn't appeal to me or my balls this morning. I know I'm just going to have to come back and shower after we surf it anyway, so I don't bother with the soap or anything. Fuck pretenses when all I can think about are her tits and those legs.
I reckon I'm the only guy who whacks off thinking about his girlfriend. Poor Miranda Kerr has taken a bit of a backseat since Bella came to town. But I can't find it in me to think of anyone else as the hot water pours over my shoulders and the back of my legs. With my hand wrapped around my dick, her words ring in my ears and I can't help but smile a bit. "At least you'll have old righty there."
Just the thought of her voice makes me harder, and true to what I said, the feel of my own hand is nothing compared to her. But I'm so fucking hard that my hand is already moving, and whether it's my touch or not, fuck it feels good.
I imagine it's her mouth not my hand, and just the thought of her lips around me, of her pretty brown eyes looking up at me through her wet lashes, sends jolt of heat to my groin. My fist tightens and my pace quickens as I think about the way the water makes her hair look so dark, shiny and wet against her skin. The way it drapes over her nipples like she's a fucking goddess, kneeling at my feet with my dick in her mouth. I think about all the quiet little noises she makes, and the way she digs her short little fingernails into the skin at my hips as she takes me deeper. I know I could be quieter - who knows if Emmett's waiting for me on the other side of the door - but with my hand splayed wide on the tiled wall, I picture her soft cheeks hollowing around the end of my dick as I come, my knees going soft and my gut trembling.
Panting and flushed, I step back under the water and let the hot water calm my heartbeat and wash away the rush of loneliness. As nice as it is to have blood flow back to my legs, having my girl here instead of my right hand would have been better.
But a loud bang on the bathroom door pulls me out of my wallowing, and true to form, Emmett's voice booms through the thin walls.
"Finish jerkin' it another time. Laurent says the reef on the other side of the island's pullin' eight-footers."
I blink the water out of my eyes, wiping it from my nose.
"That French fuck. Gimme a sec, alright?"
Laurent tends to spin a bit of shit, and more than once we've followed him to some "secret spot" to find nothing but glass and two footers. But the draw of an eight-foot is too much to ignore, and I barely even dry myself off, giving Emmett an eyeful as I slip out of the bathroom to grab my wetsuit from the balcony.
For once though, Laurent is right. The little reef about half an hour's drive from Keramas is throwing sick right-handers that make getting up at the crack of dawn totally worth it. We surf it for a few hours, until the rumbling in the pit of my empty stomach is too much, and we have to get out and find some brekky or something.
We find a little road-side restaurant a few kilometers up the road; it looks dodgy as fuck but we're all hanging to eat, so by that time we pretty much don't give a shit what it is. We take a seat outside, munching on fruit and nasi goreng, keeping the wait staff happy as we order meal after meal, trying to sate the burning hunger from a morning in the water.
"Gunna get hectic tomorrow or what, Ed?" says Emmett around a mouthful of rice.
We've always been competitive, and rivalry between us has jumped up a notch since his win at Bells. I'm in top form and he knows it. He knows it and he's shit scared.
I just grin at him, which makes him laugh. I'll get him one day.
After spending pretty much all of my time eating, sleeping and thinking surfing, you'd think the excitement of it would wear off.
Not a fucking chance.
So far the surf in Bali has been off its tits, and as knackered as I am when I go to sleep, it's still what gets me up in the morning. I love what I do, and the fact that I get paid for it is bloody awesome.
Before everything with Embry, before I went home and took some time off from the tour, I used to think I could spend every day just sleeping and surfing. I'd look forward to going home after the tour and seeing the family, but then after a couple of days in Clearwater, I'd be itching to get back out again.
This time it's different though. While I'm stoked to be back on the circuit with all the boys, and to spend some time with my brother; Jesus, I miss my girl.
When we pull up to somewhere like Keramas or Green Ball and the waves are charging, my first instinct is to call her and be like, "You gotta check out this mad surf, babe!" Sometimes I'll send her a photo, email it to her later or whatever - when I remember. But the photos don't really show much and half the time I forget.
But I call her every day, or she calls me. She's really good at being supportive, and listens to me talk shit for a bit before I ask her what's she's doing, and sometimes just hearing her voice is enough to get me through another night on my own. Until I wake up with a mega-boner that is.
I have to keep telling myself that it hasn't even been a week. It's only been six days and I'm already hanging out to see her; I'm already counting down the weeks and days. I've turned into such a pussy!
Don't get me wrong, I want to be here more than anything, and nothing beats the adrenaline of taking the water at a comp, but to say that I don't think about dropping it all and flying home just to see Bella would be a lie.
But in the end, this is the decision I – we – made.
It's so weird to be a "we". I never thought I'd be a "we" with anyone until that girl basically knocked the wind out of me that day on the beach.
But what am I s'posed to do? She can't leave, and I can't stay. So yeah, it is what it is. I deal with missing her the only way I know how; by getting on with shit and counting down the days.
How long can I do that? Who the fuck knows. Hopefully, one day I can wake up in my hotel bed with her next to me, and it won't be a problem.
Until then, looks like me and righty are gunna be best friends for a while.
Apologies for Edward's foul mouth. But hey, you want an Aussie guy - you got one.
Thank you to Ink, Thimbles and Tiff for their usual beta work. Any errors are my own.
Thank you for being patient. xx Wink