Chapter 27
It’s been painful to watch Christopher try to surf the last three days. His progress is slower than the rest of his group, who are all now riding the waves while he’s still stuck learning in the whitewash.
“You’ve got this!” I shout from the shore.
The wave breaks as he attempts to stand on the surfboard, and he manages to balance momentarily before falling into the sea.
Or maybe he doesn’t.
Christopher marches back toward me, the orange surfboard under his arm.
“I fucking suck.”
He chucks the board on the sand and unzips his bodysuit before collapsing on the towel. The late afternoon glare of the sun casts long shadows from the palm trees, stretching beyond the wooden pier at the far end of Cloud Nine Beach all the way to the other side.
I get up from my towel and head over to him.
“Don’t give up. You’ll pick it up soon.” I kneel behind him, rubbing his shoulders.
“That’s easy for you to say, out there doing tricks.”
His smirk is less Mona Lisa, more Taylor Swift bumping into an ex as he grabs the suntan lotion to reapply to his body.
It is. I picked it up straight away, but he needn’t know that. Though it’s much easier to start when you’re seven instead of twenty-seven. Less fear. Less worry about what lurks underneath the water.
“I didn’t start out that way. It took me ages to get that good.”
“Sometimes you need to quit when you’re behind.” He shoots me a look of pure annoyance.
To be fair, he stuck it out three days longer than Rob, who has refused to surf since. And Samuel gave up the first day when I brought him here to Siargao in the Philippines. It’s one of the few places still left in the world where I can go unnoticed.
“See you tomorrow?” Christopher’s surf instructor asks, grabbing his board.
Christopher wipes off the same irritation from his face that he had when I woke him this morning and plasters on a smile.
“Nah, I think I’m done, bro.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you’re covered for the rest of the week.”
He won’t. Much to my frustration.
Christopher grabs his book and leaves me unsure of what to do to keep myself entertained while he soaks up the sun’s rays. My body aches from surfing all day, but my mind is still restless. I’ve always needed a way to channel my ADHD: skateboarding, playing guitar, running.
Staying still is scary.
Savasana at the end of sunset yoga on the surfboards yesterday was absolute hell. I’d laid there for ten minutes, letting the gentle tide of the sea pull us back and forth. I was unable to escape the guilt, concern, and fear all swirling around in my mind.
It began with feeling guilty for skipping Christmas with my family for the first time in my life.
But I couldn’t stick around and have another repeat performance of Thanksgiving.
Then I felt guilty for still not responding to my dad’s text from two days ago, apologizing and attempting to make amends for what he said.
But then I realized I needed to talk my response through with Lee before texting back, to make sure I honored his apology without diminishing how hurt I’ve been by the whole thing.
Then I’d finally moved on to my fear about the Grammy awards.
What if my performance goes wrong?
What if I go home empty-handed and I never get nominated for a Grammy again?
What if I win and the crowd boos me?
I couldn’t wait to finish savasana, get off that surfboard, and back to the hotel.
“It is. It’s Alexander Morgan,” a teenage girl with an American accent says as she approaches me. A gaggle of females stands just behind her. “Can we get a picture?” She’s already waving her friends over.
Before I get a chance to decline, wanting to appreciate the little amount of privacy I have left in the world, her phone is already out and live streaming.
“Look who we just bumped into here in the Philippines. Alexander Morgan.”
The girls gather round as I switch into popstar mode, smiling for the camera.
Clearly these girls weren’t taught anything about personal space.
“Hi.” I wave and pull my sunglasses down from the top of my head to my eyes and then dust off the sand stuck to my abs.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” another adds.
A third shoves her phone into my face.
“Can you say hi to our friend Missy? She loves you.”
“Hi Missy. Happy Holidays.” My smile is wider than a Cheshire cat’s.
Each of them surrounds me like seagulls fighting over food, trying to get at me.
“Are you going to the New Years Eve party at El Lobo?”
“Where are you staying?”
“Will you be here tomorrow?”
Their questions are incessant. My jaw tightens with each additional one.
“Sorry girls, we need to be heading off.” Christopher says, quickly packing our stuff and pulling at my arm. More people on the beach have started looking, wondering why these girls are making such a fuss.
We quickly escape to the row of motorbikes where we parked and pull away down the road to the hotel before anyone else can bother me.
“Well, at least you managed to last three days going unnoticed.”
Christopher hands me his helmet while he unties the surfboard, which I brought with me from LA, from the motorbike rack.
I’m only able to muster up a grunt.
I’m resentful of the girls for taking the beach and my privacy away, but I’m also relieved not to be stuck there and bored.
Thankfully, no one here at the resort seems to know who I am. I’m grateful that the big metal gates can keep unwanted visitors from entering as we make our way through the resort, past the grand villas and three infinity pools, toward our villa at the far end.
“What do you fancy doing tomorrow?” I throw the helmets and my bag down on the outdoor couch, pulling the beach towels out to let them dry on the sun loungers by our own private pool.
“Well, surfing’s out for me.” Christopher rests my board against the wall before grabbing his phone from his shorts and collapsing on the empty sun lounger.
“How about we take the motorbike for a ride round the island?”
“Where abouts?” Christopher is already distracted by his phone pings, having reconnected to the hotels Wi-Fi.
I walk over and crawl on top of him, removing the phone from his hands.
“There’s a great palm tree alley we can drive through, and up in the north of the island, there’s a secret lagoon where the fireflies come out at night.”
“Is that right?”
Christopher’s brows rise as he grabs hold of my hips and pulls me into him. His lips caress mine as his tongue slides into my mouth. I push myself off and pull at his hand.
“We’ve already fucked here. Let’s fuck up there.”
I nod to the pit atop the thatched roof, which looks out to the horizon.
I drag him up the stairs and he pushes me down on the scattering of pillows around the table in the center. The scent of the mosquito candle hits me as I breathe Christopher in. His mouth nuzzles at my neck. Every nerve ending in my body lights up.
I take in every inch of his back with my hands as I push him down toward my cock, while wiggling free from my brown surf shorts.
His mouth meets my dick and takes it whole.
His left hand cups my balls while his index finger stimulates my hole.
My swelling cock makes him gag as his head bounces up and down on it.
Good God, he knows how to pleasure me.
“I wanna fuck you,” I moan.
I know he prefers to top, but I’m hoping he’ll let me.
He looks up at me, his mouth pulling away from my cock.
“Well, you better rim me then.”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I get up, pushing Christopher down as my hands tear at his striped swimming trunks. His ass cheeks unclench as I slide my tongue between his legs to devour his peachy ass and stimulate his hole.
He adjusts the pillow underneath his head and lets out moan after moan as my tongue works its way deeper into his ass, spitting on his hole and getting it loose before I enter him.
“Let me guide it in,” Christopher says.
He slides off my face and pulls me in. His legs point up to the sky as he slowly guides me in, grimacing slightly as he lets out a few short breaths. I hover momentarily, allowing his ass to adjust as my cock slides in deeper. He rests his legs on my shoulders as I enter him fully.
I pick up speed like a car on a racetrack and begin to thrust deeper. The pain on his face gives way to sheer pleasure as I feel my balls swell. His ass feels so good wrapped around my cock and I want to savor this moment.
“I want you to really fuck me,” he says, a feral passion darkening his hazel eyes.
The deep, husky tone of his words works like a red flag on a bull, making me flip him over. I bounce him up and down on top of me while I lay back on the couch, thrusting my hips up to meet his ass.
His hands grip my shoulders as my thrusts get faster.
“You like that,” I say as he moans in ecstasy. “You want me to breed that hole of yours.” My balls are already swelling up, ready to unload.
“Give it to me,” he begs as he removes his hands from my shoulders and cups the back of my neck, pulling me into him. The sweat glistens on his skin.
His passionate kiss engulfs me and I bounce him up and down even faster on my lap, until I am about to explode.
“Fuucckk!” My cock detonates inside him as my hips convulse. Load after load shoots out.
Christopher is quick to follow as he blows his load all over me.
“I guess you’re not the only one getting pregnant this holiday.” Christopher’s arm pulls me in to kiss him as I slide out.
“I guess not,” I say, rolling over beside him. The last of the sun disappears on the horizon.
Tuesday
“I’ve lost it!” Christopher shouts from the middle of the lagoon. He’d come up for air after jumping off the rickety wooden diving board. The whole place is deserted apart from the two of us and the boat driver who brought us here, who’s sitting in the little bar area.
“Lost what?” I shake my head, uncertain what he’s talking about.
Christopher disappears again under the water, only to come back up looking even more panic-stricken.