Girls of Summer
The Girls of Summer: Three Sizzling Spanking Tales
The Lifeguard
The Vacation
Cowgirl Up
By Vicki Blue
©2012 Blushing Books Publications and Vicki Blue
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Blue, Vicki
The Girls of Summer
eBook ISBN 978-1-60968-739-7
The Lifeguard
“This is going to be epic!” Rosemary Swanson guided her Mazda down a long row of cars, looking for a space - preferably one with a little time left on the meter.
“It won’t be epic if we don’t find a place to park pretty soon. Really, Rose, in the time we’ve spent looking for a space close to the beach we could have already parked.” Sunny Miller tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice. Traffic had been terrible; it seemed like everyone in the state had chosen Crystal Beach as a destination. And Rose, ever the diva, had informed Sunny that she wasn’t parking “out in the middle of nowhere.” So for the last half an hour they’d been burning up valuable gas and time looking for one of the prime spaces Sunny was pretty sure no reasonable beachgoer would be abandoning until late in the day.
Sunny was about to tell Rose to just stop so she could get out and walk when they saw the brake lights of a car just ahead.
“Told ya!” Rose chirped as the car began to back out of the space. Two crying children were visible in the back seat, indicating the reason behind the driver’s premature departure. The car had barely cleared the space when Rose zipped in, gleeful at not only finding a good space, but one that was paid up through the rest of the day.
Even so, it took then another twenty minutes to lug everything down to the beach. Sunny finally let herself relax and the frustration she’d felt all morning with her friend began to dispel as she smoothed out her beach towel and sat down to apply her favorite tanning lotion. Her plan was to lay out for a while and then when the heat became too much to go swimming in the ocean.
Sunny Radison was an accomplished swimmer; she’d been on her high school and college swim teams and her ability to slice through the water faster than her competitors had even earned her the partial scholarship that was helping pay for her education. It also helped keep her in great shape; Rose often commented that she envied her friend’s tone legs, arms and bottom.
“Lucky thing,” Rose would say.
“Yeah, it’s funny but the more I exercise the luckier I get,” Sunny would reply. That was when Rose usually rolled her eyes.
But today Rose’s eyes were fixed on something else. She nudged Sunny and pointed to the lifeguard stand.
“Hey, isn’t that Brett Wilder?” she asked.
Sunny looked up and scowled. “Yes,” she said. “I think we should move.”
“Move?” Rosemary gasped. “Are you crazy? He’s gorgeous!”
She looked up at the stand, staring at Brett as if he were a god. And he did look like one to most women. Standing 6’2”, the lifeguard has the perfect body - muscular but not too muscular. His blonde hair was cropped short, unlike his fellow lifeguards who wore theirs in the shaggy layered cuts popular with surfers. With his close-cropped hair and sunglasses, Sunny thought he looked like a cop, which was fitting since he liked to tell people what to do.
“Gorgeous,” Rosemary repeated.
“Yes,” Sunny agreed. “But also arrogant and disagreeable and bossy.”
“You just don’t like his coaching style,” Rosemary laughed.
“He’s not my coach,” Sunny hastily corrected. “He’s an assistant. And he thinks he has the right to criticize my performance even after I win a race? Fuck him.”
“You’d better not let him hear you say that,” Rosemary said.
“I couldn’t care less,” Sunny replied, emboldened by the knowledge that the Brett was too high up on the lifeguard stand to hear them. With the wind starting to kick up, it was getting hard to hear Rosemary, who was raising her voice now.
“Didn’t he want to recruit you to work here this summer?” she was asking.
Sunny turned to her and grinned. “He sure did,” she said. “But I told him I wasn’t interested. I told him I had other plans and wouldn’t budge, even when he said it would really help him and the other lifeguards if I’d just work him.”
“Did you tell him why?” Rosemary asked.
“I just told him I had other commitments,” Sunny replied smugly. “And you know what? It kind of puts me in a good mood for him to see that my ‘other commitments,’ were swimming and sunbathing.”
“Hmm.” Rosemary was staring off into the distance. “I’m not sure how much swimming we’re going to be doing. Look at that surf.”
Sunny shielded her eyes and looked. There were clouds in the distance, but whatever system was generating them was also kicking up the waves.
“Maybe we should swim now before it gets bad.”
“You can go,” Sunny said, laying back. “I’m not worried about a little rough surf.”
“Well, I am,” Rosemary replied. “I’m not the one who’s Miss Champion Swimmer. So I’m going to swim first and then toast.”
“Suit yourself.” Sunny lay back on the blanket and closed her eyes against the blazing orb overhead. She slipped her earbuds into her ears and listened to the strains of Nine Inch Nails as she absorbed the rays, glad for some time to herself and gladder still that any discussion of Brett Wilder had come to an end. She disliked him, part of the reason being that Coach Fuller seemed to think that Brett could walk on water. So what if Brett had won the individual collegiate medal three years in a row. He was still just an assistant coach, and a first year one at that. She was the strongest female swimmer on the team, but he always had advice for her that Sunny didn’t feel she needed.
“You’d have had better time, but you dropped your elbow a bit,” Brett had told her after she came in first in her last race.
“Yeah, thanks for that,” she said. “I’m going to collect my first place ribbon now.” And she’d walked away, fuming. Later she’d seen him looking at her from the other side of the pool, his mouth in a grim line. She knew he didn’t appreciate her attitude, but she didn’t particularly appreciate his officious behavior either.
Sunny’s thoughts were stirred when she felt something dripping on her. At first she thought it was raining, but it was too hot. She opened her eyes and looked up to see Rosemary standing close beside her, thoughtlessly dripping water on her as she toweled off. She sat up and pulled out the earbuds.
“That was fast,” she said.
“The lifeguards put out red flags,” Rosemary grumbled. “Apparently there’s a depression off the coast and the riptides are getting bad. The had to pull a kid out a mile down the beach. And look at those waves.”
Sunny leaned back on her elbows and shielded her eyes as she stared at the pounding surf.
“That’s not so bad,” she said.
“Not so bad?” Rosemary shook her head. “Let one of them knock you down and tell me that.”
“All right.” Sunny stood.
“Wait, what are you doing?”
“I’m going swimming.” Sunny adjusted the top of her suit and then the bottoms.
“You can’t,” she said. “There are red flags.”
“I don’t like crowds anyway. I won’t be long.”
“Hey!” She could hear Brett’s voice calling to her followed by the sharp blast of the whistle as she ran towards the water. Sunny ignored it, smiling to herself. Brett may be the boss on the swim team, but out here she was her own person. It’s not like he was going to drag her back to shore.
“Hey! Don’t you go in that water!” His words were carried away by the wind. Sunny rushed into the surf, jumping smaller waves breaking close to the shore until she found herself waist high. A huge wave curled towards her. She dived into it, feeling her body slice through the water. It pulled her back, but she sliced forwards, coming up further from shore. Another wave broke just as she surfaced and she took a deep breath and dived dolphin-like into that one, too. Her plan was to go a little further out and then just swim parallel to the shore for a mile or so until the current pulled her in. She’d saunter back down the beach, shooting Brett a satisfied smile then. That would send a nice message about what she thought of his “authority.”
Another wave. She dived into it, going further under now. The water was cool, really cool. She’d gone further out than she intended. Sunny surfaced, but when she did it was to an unpleasant surprise. The wave coming towards her broke right into her chest and the next thing she remembered was being hurtled backwards and spinning around and around. Seawater filled her nose and she struggled not to panic.
“Keep calm,” she told herself, and waited to surface but another wave broke over her as she tried and she felt her lungs screaming for air. She tried to swim up and felt sand. Fuck. She was disoriented. Her head felt fuzzy but at least her feet were on the sand now. She pushed up and surfaced, taking in a deep, ragged breath. But no sooner had she filled her lungs with precious air was she back under again.
Now she was scared. When she surfaced she realized the beach was further away. In fact, she’d never been this far out in the ocean. She tried to scream but couldn’t. How could she have gotten caught in a rip current without knowing it?
“Keep calm,” she said to herself. “Just swim parallel to the shore.”
But her legs felt like jelly as she tried to kick. She was weak and her nose and eyes stung. And to make matters worse, rain was pelting her now. The storm had come out of nowhere. Lightning flashed overhead. The sky was slate grey, giving the surface of the ocean she loved an ominous, alien look.
Sunny flattened herself out and started to kick, but another wave lifted and rolled her. Now when she surfaced she could barely keep her head above water.
I’m going to die. The thought terrified her. She’d read somewhere that drowning deaths were peaceful, but she felt no peace. She felt terribly alone, terribly vulnerable and completely traumatized.
Then she saw a flash of yellow just beyond a breaking wave.
“Hold on!” Was it a voice, or just an illusion? A wave lifted her and she could see the raft crashing towards her now. Someone stood at the helm with a life preserver. She summoned what strength she had to stay afloat as it came hurtling towards her. The preserver landed about ten feet away. A wave lifted her and the solid white ring and she lurched forward, grateful when she felt her hand catch its surface. Sunny hooked her elbow around the preserver and held on for dear life as she was hauled towards the boat.
“I got you.” Brett Wilder hooked his hands under her armpits and lifted her up as if she were nothing. She slipped, fishlike, over the side and slid into the boat, gasping. The driver looked back, his face registering disapproval. Brett was looking down at her, his eyes examining hers.
“Sunny, talk to me,” he said. “Can you breathe?”
She fluttered her hand in front of her face and nodded. “Y-yes.”
“Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so…no. Just scared is all.”
The boat was heading back in now. Brett took hold of Sunny’s arm and held her as it pitched and tossed towards shore.
“How far out was I?” she asked.
“Far enough to make us think we’d lost you,” Brett said.
“I’m sorry,” she said weakly.
“Not yet you aren’t,” he said.
“What?”
But he didn’t reply. The rain was coming down in sheets now and Brett shielded her with an emergency blanket over her protestations. There was an ambulance waiting on shore, and the assembled crowd of gawkers only made Sunny feel worse.
“A daring sea rescue was successful today…” A male voice reached her ears over the sound of falling rain and the humming crowds and Sunny looked over to see a news crew wearing foul weather gear reporting in her humiliation.
“I don’t need an ambulance,” she said to Brett as they exited the boat. “Just let me find Rosemary and I’ll go home.”
“You mean the girl you came with?” another lifeguard asked. “She was so upset that once Brett radioed back that you were safe she left.” He paused. “She said she told you not to go into the water. She was pretty bent out of shape.” He led me towards the ambulance. “And besides,” he continued. “The health check is mandatory.”
“How are you? Are you OK, Miss Radison?” The reporter was moving in, pressing the microphone close to her face. Brett pushed him back.
“Out of the way,” he ordered, and the newsman stepped back, grumbling.
“How did he know my name?” Sunny wanted to cry. How was this going to look - the top female competitive swimmer for the local university almost drowning after ignoring warnings not to go in the water?
“I don’t know. Your friend probably told him.” Brett ushered into the ambulance, where a medic looked into her eyes, checked her extremities and asked Sunny several dozen questions before announcing that she was free to go.
“A reckless swimmer has just been treated and released after a near drowning here at Crystal Beach. Witnesses say that college student Sunny Radison ignored lifeguard’s warnings and headed into the rough surf…”
Sunny got up and left the ambulance, walking around the front. The rain was still falling.
“Hey. I’m not going to let you walk home, Sunny.”
Brett was at her side, catching her arm.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“I’m taking you home.”
“No,” she said.
“After saving your life, it’s the least I can do,” he said. “And it’ll save you the trouble of saying ‘thank you.’”
Sunny felt her stomach sink. He was right. She’d not even said ‘thank you.’ She’d been so wrapped up in her own fear and embarrassment that she’d failed to acknowledge the efforts of the men who saved her life.
“Fine,” she said. “You can take me home. And I do appreciate what you did. I’m just still reeling.”
Brett’s Jeep Wrangler was parked by a nearby dune. He held the door for Sunny and after she was safely inside he went to the driver’s side and climbed in.
“I need to go by my house and take care of something before I take you home,” he said. “It won’t take long but it has to be done. You OK with that?”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” Sunny said, looking out the window. She knew she sounded sullen and sulky and wasn’t proud of herself. She told herself she’d make up for it by sending the lifeguard station a nice card expression her gratitude.
Brett’s house was near the beach. It was a white clapboard cottage with a surfboard leaning up against a front door flanked by two windmill palms. As Brett pulled into the driveway, his cellphone rang. Sunny could tell that whoever he was talking to was irate.
“Yes sir,” he was saying. “I understand…Really…I think we need to talk about this before any decision is reached. I’d like to try to handle it myself… No, I can. Trust me….I know just what to do..Thanks.”
Brett guided the car to a stop and put his phone in his shirt pocket.
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“Come on in,” he said.
“I’d rather wait.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
She sighed, not wanting to endure another reminder of her ingratitude. The sun had come back out and it was hot now. She could ear the AC humming in the cottage. At least it would be cooler in there.
There was no one else in the cottage and Sunny could tell that no female lived there. It was a total bachelor pad, but neater than most she’d seen. The living room held a couch, a chair, another surfboard against the wall and a television with a PS3 underneath. Game cases lay beside the console - Call of Duty, Skyrim, Fallout…She imagined the contents of the fridge consisted of a half carton of sour milk and two cans of beer.