The outtake of this story, Blushing Cherry is already published. So if you enjoy reading about slash (man/man) action and adventurous sex you will probably like it.
My gratitude to the beings that grace me and make this chapter possible. Many thanks also to Scattered21, Kjwrit, and Girl Of Chaos. I am humbled.
6. Just Jump!
SPOV
Shame. Fear. Relief.
Icy blue eyes boring into mine.
An impossibly tall savior. My savior, with dangerously warm lips. Tingling sensations begin in my hands; I'm zapped by a touch and marked by a kiss, on my hand.
Warm leather around me. A wild roar of power between my tights. Warm body.
Widening grin. Smirk. Smile. Joy!
Flashes swirls before my tired, closed eyes.
Then - panic;
Twist of my heels;
Slam of a door;
Fading engine sounds;
Silence.
Stupid, stupid, stupid me!
I toss and turn, completely alone except for this tempest swirling through my mind.
And the scent of a lingering, heady perfume, which almost dissolved my earlier fears.
Now, I'm just another insomniac drowning herself in a horrid, syrupy flavored beer.
In the silence, I am so alone.
~o~
Once again, I see myself in the blackness of the forest.
All around me there are animal noises – cracks, squeaks, howls. None of them scares me. I am a part of the wilderness.
In a roar the light erupts from the darkness, bringing him in front of me. Sometimes the gods get it right. Gold glittering in the night frames this living marble masterpiece.
Strong body, standing tall before me, like a slender tree trunk, a pillar of flesh. Arms clamp my waist, sealing me to him. Lips inches from mine; hovering just over mine. Barely touching, I can almost taste him. Suddenly I get the flavor of them, sweet like wild honey. Instantly, my entire being is sucked into his touch, his mouth, his being. Drifting together, I am thirst and he is my water.
A taste is not enough, I want all of him; I need him.
A rush of cold air assaults my rock hard nipples, and I lay breathless, naked and exposed on the lush grass, at his feet.
Long fingers slipping between my feverish thighs, touching me in a sinful way, and then a single one glissading over my flesh, and probing the most intimate part of me.
~o~
Gasping for air I suddenly awaken, my pulse drumming in my ears as I sit up too quickly.
I exhale. Just a dream…
Sighing I collapse back on the bed, back on sheets that are crumpled and soaked in my sweat.
Other sounds assault my hearing now. Birds are frantically chirping outside, cheerfully greeting the rising sun.
It is still fairly early. I hope if I start early, I will have a couple of hours to bask in the sun alone and undisturbed while the others are still sleeping.
Lazily, I pull on my swimsuit and drag myself to the pool. Nobody is around, and I relax on one of the surrounding lounges.
Ah, the blessed rays of the sun warm my skin! Long streaming fingers of sunlight gently caress me and silently lull me back to sleep on the open terrace's lounge chair.
The sky is an improbably blue color and, as I occasionally glance at it, the celestial orb of liquid fire suspended there seems to smirk at me just like my stranger from the other night. Time seems to stretch while my mind floats between reality and dreams.
Fragments of last night's dream pop into my thoughts. Why on earth didn't I give him my number? Idiot!
~o~
A large shadow looms over me and too lazy to open my eyes, I wonder in my daze if there is a cloud obstructing the sun or maybe, just maybe, my biker is back.
"Miss Suzana, what a glorious day!"
Right away, I felt my insides cringe. Opening my eyes, I see Bill leering, openly surveying my body that is barely covered by my two piece navy swimsuit.
"Morning Mr. Compton," I greet him politely, but closing my eyes. Perhaps he will take the hint and leave me alone. Please God! I send a silent prayer skyward.
It is a vain hope...
"Oh, call me Bill, I insist. Do you want me to give you a hand with the sun lotion?"
Yeah, whenever hell freezes over. "Thank you, Mr. Compton, but I was just about to go back inside." I'm such a coward!
"My dear, you are one cruel woman."
He continues to stare openly, shamelessly assessing my curves. I feel the intrusion of his muddy brown eyes on my body much like the clean earth feels the slimy trail left behind by a night slug. It leaves an ache I can feel deep inside, and I choke back a strong wave of revulsion for him.
Does he actually think I might be interested in a man like him? Is he fool enough to imagine I would actually fight with Stela and his wife for his affection? Lorena, his wife, is living abroad, in Seattle if I recall correctly. She only visits Romania a couple of times a year, bitching at everybody when she does. Those particular times, his 'official' mistress Stela takes long vacations to escape Lorena's sharp claws and tongue. Of course, since William Compton is a foreigner and has a good salary, there are plenty of other girls jumping at the chance of capturing his attention. But I won't be one of them, even if he is the last undead man on this planet. I'd rather be alone that give myself to that vile bloodsucker of all that a young girl has to offer.
So I make a hasty retreat in my room, escaping his repulsive stare. After changing into a simple gray track suit I join the others, already gathered for breakfast, or rather lunch since it is noon already.
~o~
Another session of endless business discussions follows. The group worries over the same issues everyone does in our industry, such as how to motivate the doctors to write prescriptions of our products over that of our competitors. And, if extravagant incentives are legal rewards for pharmacists who sell certain target amounts of our drugs? The group excitedly moves on to review means for pressuring the Health Ministry to approve our alimentary supplements as various remedies. They don't stop there, but also explore how best to ban the merchandising of the real natural products which have the same healing properties at a fraction of the price without the side effects of our pills... and so on.
After about three hours that seems to last a century, we are at least finished with this part of the retreat's program.
~o~
Our official program, which I consult frequently to stave off my boredom, has identified this time slot as Zorbing time. Questioning Miron, I learn that Zorbs are some giant plastic balls into which one enters, is locked into place in a small chamber, and then the ball is released to roll down into the valley.
This challenging event is scheduled to take place at Cheile Râşnoavei, not very far away.
I take my own car this time. As I'm passing the Castle, I feel a sudden urge to take a detour by Foişor to see Eric, but I manage to restrain myself in time. Even if I was allowed to enter the premises, and this seems unlikely given that it is a VIP retreat, and if I was able to find him there, then what would happen? Would I have the nerve to tell him I had the most torrid dream about him? That I want him to ravish me?
Exactly! Maybe in another life!
He mentioned some race in Braşov on Sunday. Maybe I could swing by. Then again, maybe not. There is no way to cover the fact that I would have driven 20 km in the opposite direction, just like that, just to see him there.
Right! He probably has a wife or a girlfriend already. He is too good-looking to be single. Or perhaps like too many men, he has more than just one of each.
Just forgetaboutit already, Sookie!
~o~
Fairly soon our group of cars enters the narrow valley.
The road is guarded by the massive stone walls of the gorge, breathtakingly ascending to the sky. Only the Chamois antelopes would dare to climb the breathtaking height. And yet, right in the middle of the majestic stone, there are dark black twisted cables, appearing like a Tyrolean traverse rope bridge.
Nearby, on a gentle slope, I can see a couple of men milling around, and what appears to be one huge transparent bubble. It's the Zorb ball.
I hang back from the group eagerly exiting the cars. I'm watching Bill, who like a true boss leads the way, being the first to be locked into the bubble's inner chamber. I observe him as he slowly rolls down the slope of the valley that loops along the road. Midway to the bottom, it unexpectedly rolls to a stop. I have to bite the inside of my cheek not to burst out laughing, seeing the boss hanging upside down with his head twisting back-and-forth, like a oversized bug helplessly pinned in a spider web.
Looking closely at the suspended cables, I can see something that looks like a tiny rope basket rising, guided by a vertical rope. A cord dangles below from the strange-looking basket. Two peoples look to be standing in the basket; I notice that one of them is shirtless. Maybe they are some kind of mountaineers? Climbers perhaps? Whatever it is, it fascinates me.
Turning back to our group, I see Bill-the-bug emerging proudly from his plastic globe.
I briefly wonder how small his balls might be, since he needs to show off in such an oversized one. This thought alone does wonders for my mood. Or perhaps he is in need of at least one ball since he is such a prick! I snicker quietly at the wicked imagery that my overactive imagination brings to mind.
Meanwhile I've been keeping an eye on the basket. Why am I calling it a 'basket?' It looks rather like a huge, man-sized bird cage. Slowly it advances forward across the chasm, stopping right in the middle between the two mountains and suspended over the valley.
Suddenly the shirtless man jumps with a loud cry. My hearts stops in my chest as I gasp in horror. It resumes beating again after I notice the elastic cord that is tied to his legs.
Bungee jumping!
He flies like a bird, with a wild roar that explodes in countless echoes, sending back a cacophony of sounds courtesy of the chasm's near-perfect acoustics.
Now, that is something else! There is no crane, no scaffold. Just ropes, a harness, and the wilderness between the two sheer faces of the mountainsides.
Meanwhile, back at our soft, spongy adventure, the group's single females circle around Bill. Shrill female voices echo in contrast to the jumper's earlier roar, the women's noises alternating between marveling and gushing over his 'bravery.' I note they are careful to confirm they don't have to participate in this 'sport,' and for once I am glad to be included in 'the girls club.' The slow moving bubble is beyond ridiculous.
Lucian goes next, but all I care to watch is the jumper, who is being slowly lowered back to earth along with the bird cage mobile platform above him.
Leaving the others behind, I walk closer to the bungee's installation base, a simple wooden dais and some ropes. It is tucked into a narrow outcropping on one of the stone walls.
Near it I can see a woman and a young man waiting for another jumper to take his turn; I guess they are most likely the next in line to jump.
Closer now, I'm surprised to see the couple are Eric's former companions from last night. With that, comes the realization that the shirtless man I just admired jumping was a certain blond hunk. A hunk has just been lowered on the wooden consol and is now grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.
Oh, my! He looks just like a god descended from the sky. Literally. And he is so much better looking in the sunshine, with his golden sparkling hair, disheveled despite once being held in a loop at the base of his neck, bright eyes and angular, manly features. Not to mention his strong tall body. Half naked body, with lean but well defined, drool-worthy muscles that glisten with sweat, like some Twilight vampire sparkling in the sun. I also can't help but admire his matching long limbs and long fingers. I'm sure my eyes are lingering way too long on him, while he catches his breath lying prone on the wood dais, his unsteady condition one of adrenaline induced euphoria.
"Hello little girl!" Delivered in a husky tone, his voice must be rough from screaming during his free falling.
Seems his forwardness wasn't fazed by my rudeness last night. I feel a rush of shame over my own behavior. He selflessly came to my aid, and in return I was incredibly ungrateful and unmannered. The shame brings a flush of heat in my cheeks, and I look down, refraining from fanning myself to relieve the effects of my blush.
Those long fingers and arms are stretching towards me now, bringing back memories of that scorching dream that visited me last night. I feel my blush turning hotter and likely making my skin pinker.
My throat feels dry and constricted and all I can manage to choke out is a squeaky "Hi!" Pathetic. Glad I managed to speak some, or at least emit something that sounds normal
I'm stunned when he grabs my hand, and begins rubbing small circles with his thumb over the back. All I can do now is to stare back into his icy blue eyes and luxuriate in the warmth that the skin contact ignites in me
"This is Sofia and Andrei. And this is Suzana," he says, making the basic introductions with a casual smile fluttering at the corner of his mouth.
I managed to squeak out two more hellos. Really pathetic.
The woman, Sofia, looks at me politely, weighing me with her sharp eyes and restrained smile. I doubt I have much of value to offer on her scale. In contrast, Andrei smiles quite openly at me, and then turns to Eric in approval. I wonder if he is Eric's younger brother: both are blond and so friendly.
"It's my turn now," Andre broadcasts his excitement, and with a bounce in his step, races to have the harness strapped in place on him with the help of the two assistants.
I stare in wonder as he is lifted high between the rocky vertical cliffs. Seems to take so long to reach the necessary height, and then to be pulled to the center of the horizontal cable suspended over the canyon. I know what's coming, but I still suppress my scream as he plunges down, towards the road and the river below, bouncing, stretching the cords and yelling.
The scene floods me with visions of my poor brother. He had also fallen from a great height, but without the lifesaving cords, and never bounced back. Had he experienced the same sensations as Andrei? What was it like to see the ground rushing towards you? I briefly imagine what Andrei must have felt as he fell, knowing he would have a safety net, and realize something important.
I want to try it.
I have to try!
"What's stopping you?"
I'm startled to hear Eric's encouraging response to my silent longing, voiced in a low tone so the others won't overhear. Or perhaps I voiced my thoughts, unaware I was even speaking. Looking in his eyes I am positive that he isn't mocking me. Could I dare to do it?
The silence stretches on, nearly as long as Andre's cord now. I know I should decide and speak up any time now. But I just can't get the words out.
"What if I go all the way up there and just chicken out?" I voice my fears instead, frightfully looking at the small basket. It is a dark speck in the middle of the sky.
"My treat. Look, this is how we will do it. You go up there, no strings attached," he says grinning at his own joke, "and, if you manage to do this, you owe me a favor."
"What kind of favor?" I can't help the apprehension in my voice.
"Not much. Just come with me tomorrow to the motorcycle race in Braşov."
"Only that?"
"Just that."
"And I will pay you back tomorrow for the cost. I don't have much cash with me."
"If you insist," he replies with a heavy sigh.
"I do," I mumble.
~o~
So here I am, half an hour later, at 160 meters [over 500 feet] in open air, standing in a rope basket that hangs suspended by a couple of thin ropes, right in the middle of the deep valley and high above the road. Lacking any sensible judgment, I watch with fascination as the cars of my coworkers pass below me, looking small like some miniature toys, becoming even smaller as they vanish on the sinuous road, rushing back to the hotel. I'd first said a brief goodbye to my astonished colleagues, half of whom looked at me in admiration. The remainder's expressions were less reassuring; several no doubt thought how inconvenient it would be to hunt for a replacement for my position if I didn't survive the experience.
Yay for me!
Tightly bound with the elastic cords, my fear at actually doing this is severely constricting my breathing: it feels like several great bands are wrapped tightly around my chest. Eric is positioned directly behind me. And yes, still shirtless, and holding me tightly. Yay again for me for not fainting from just this circumstance alone! Apparently Eric is well known at this facility, so he is allowed to be my jumpmaster.
My eyes close, and, somehow, I start to relax, soaking up his heavenly scent. For reasons that elude logic I feel safe. Safer in fact here, in the middle of a void, suspended only with a thin rope, than I have ever felt since Gran passed away.
A warm breath in my ear whispers, "A tip: don't look down. Just let it go. And jump."
I don't want to jump. I don't want to leave the warm and safe cocoon of his arms. But I do want to be proud of myself; I want him to be proud of me. But where's this urge coming from? I've no idea.
What I do know is that if I won't do it now, I won't have a snowball's chance in hell of anything faintly resembling self esteem.
Standing on the edge of the abyss, this is my one shot to face my demons, to face my deepest fears.
I know with every fiber of my being that I have to do this. This is my chance. The chance to redeem myself from the lesser being I have somehow become. Who I was is suddenly no longer of consequence. All that matters is the here and now. And now it is time to let go. And to be reborn.
My heart swells in my chest, thanking God and Eric for this unexpected, unique chance. Is it truly now or never. I know it.
Eric's hand is holding my waist, and God is reaching out to me from the void.
The man's arms are releasing his embrace of my waist. One hand brushes unabashedly down over my buttocks, gripping me tightly and creating waves of delicious tremors in my body. The other hand is gently taking hold of my cheek, twisting my face back to his, and a soft, warm mouth brushes mine, stealing a brief kiss.
With wide eyes now I look at his widening grin. He nods, and I love seeing myself reflected in those ardent blue eyes. His sweet taste lingers on my lips.
Despite Eric's advice, I keep my eyes wide open, raising them to the sky, taking in its beauty, its celestial grace permeating my entire being.
I hazard a second look down, and it is like looking Death in the face. All my buried fears suddenly burst forth, squirming and attempting to bite me with what feels like thousands of dark, sharp tentacles. Only I am there no more, I am no longer that person. I am no longer afraid.
My surge of courage feels like waking up from a life-long nightmare, like coming back to my real life. I have dissolved my old being. And now it is time to see who I really am.
For I am fear personified no more.
I can feel all the blood surging inside my being, pounding and thundering through my veins. I can feel tears oozing, washing over my features in a cleansing stream. It is as if flood gates have opened wide inside me, marking the gateway to my blood, making a passage for my soul. All it takes is a step, and I will be flying through this opening. Beyond this threshold, my true self awaits. To reunite with her, to finally be whole again.
I let go of the cage's net.
I let go of everything. And I joyfully embrace it all.
A step. A jump. And I am flying.
Flying downwards, and soaring upwards.
Expanding.
Floating.
No longer 'up' and 'down,' there is no longer a 'me'.
Only exhilaration, and the sound of a heart frantically singing. Wild cries of abandonment, of becoming one with the wind.
Something is boiling deep in my core, swelling, bubbling, expanding. Pure joy. Light itself running through my veins, through every cell, bursting out.
Freedom!
Author's Note: Enjoyed it? Please review.
If you want to see it there is in my profile, and if it works here too, a picture and a video of persons jumping at this particular place. Persons I can easily imagine to be the Eric, or the shirtless Eric, to be exact.
.ro/images/media/sports/bungee-jumping-cheile-rasnoavei/1251196792_
.com/watch?v=GwVxqg61hoE&feature=related