Thank you all for continuing to be along Eric in this wild ride. Also for your reviews, that fuel my writing motor.
Humble thanks to Scattered21, YoungBoho, Smittenskitten and all my dear friends who helped. Thank you all for reading and reviewing.
Disclaimer: Southern Vampire Mysteries are the property of Charlaine Harris and so not mine. I don't own no biker either, damns!
Out of the Comfort Zone
Sunday morning
Sunlight streaming through the windows, my eyes flutter open as an involuntary stretch travels down the length of my body, curling my toes as I sigh at the pleasurable sensation. I have seemingly awakened to what feels like a new life: everything seems more intense than I remember, crisper colors, softer sheets, insistently cheerful birdsong. Delighted with this unexpected change, I find myself wishing Eric were here, now, in bed with me. Wicked thoughts, indeed!
Clutching the pillow in my arms, my eyes snap shut in protest when I realize a simple truth: I don't want to get up yet. In the bright light of the new day, what if it all proves to have been just a dream. Then again, what a dream!
My thoughts flit back to the sensation of having his arms around me, his lips on my mouth. The strength he sent me made me able to face up to the challenge of bungee jumping. I still cannot believe I have actually done it. In addition, the easy flowing conversation between us was akin to the reunion of two longtime friends.
Then he left last night without even a kiss on my check when I was all ready this time to jump him. If only he would ask me again...
I know I'd fall hard for him.
Thinking about yesterday and Eric starts a soft strumming need in me, building as my nipples harden and my mound begins throbbing. I am slick and needy: barely grazing my clit with the tip of a finger has me jumping and thinking longingly of him. If only it were his long, thick fingers sliding between my thighs this morning…Soft whimpers escape my lips, echoing in the quiet of my room. I pick up the tempo, flicking my wrist as I imagine Eric's rather larger, more substantial flesh probing, demanding access, and it feels so good...
An unexpected and certainly unwelcome knock at the door makes me choke back a moan, turning it into a cough.
"Yes? Who is it?" I manage to call out, straining with the effort to sound normal. My voice is still raw after yelling during my plunge from the Bungee Jump basket yesterday, not to mention the frustration of being interrupted before finding relief.
"Just wanted to check on you. Are you all right? How was it?" It's Miron, his voice muffled by the heavy door, come to check on me. He is a bit late to be checking on me; it is not as if he cared when left with the others yesterday before I made my jump. Oh well, I wasn't desperate for his company, either. Adjusting my pajamas, I open the door a crack and peer out. Standing in the hallway, Miron looks worn out, eyes tired and bloodshot. . Probably has a hangover, too. Still, I cannot deny he is nice enough to check on me. However, I do not wish to demean the experience by casually chatting about it through a hotel door. I am not yet ready to share it. So I just shrug, saying, "It was great. You look like you need more sleep. Why are you up so early this morning?"
"You do look great." He smiles weakly. "We'll talk later, right?"
"I think I will be leaving soon. I have some things to take care today. Will you please let the others know?"
He agrees and reluctantly leaves.
Reining in my irritation, I quickly shower, leaving my hair to dry naturally. Taking a little more time with my appearance, I chose a more daring skirt and form fitting top I usually only wear beneath a jacket. I even apply a bit of mascara and some lip-gloss. My reflection in the mirror smiles back at me. Today, for a change, I am content with how I look. On my way to the kitchen, I overhear two people speaking in hushed tones down a hallway to my left. I do not mean to pry, but can't help overhearing Stela mention me by name.
"I saw Suzana's car back here," she offers.
"Wonder who drove it here for her? I bet she had to be taken home in an ambulance after her yesterday stunt. That is, assuming she actually went through with it. Which I very much doubt. We should have stayed and watched her embarrass herself. " I feel sick to my stomach when I recognize Ada's voice.
"It would serve her right. Wandering away from us and acting as if she was going to Bungee Jump. She's a show-off. Still, if we'd stayed to watch her back, we might have been late getting to the Club."
The two women titter mercilessly at the foreign notion. "After she inherited all that property, she became a worse stuck-up bitch than ever. Always walks around with her nose in the air, thinking she is superior to us," Ada finishes with a mean laugh.
There is nothing surprising in hearing Stela being nasty; she is blatantly jealous Bill's unwelcome interest in me. As a legal counselor of sorts, she believes herself to above all the 'lower-class' women in support positions. In reality, her sense of superiority has turned her into a pompous frigid bitch. I avoid her, and she grants me the same consideration.
But Ada? I still cannot believe she would think something like that about me! She knew so many members of my family, and the truth about my brilliant inheritance: it came with overwhelming strings attached. Grandfather died in Communist prison just for being a merchant and owning these properties. As my former best friend from forever, Ada knows the truth; it hurts she is contributing to the lies circulating around me. The sound of their voices fades as they retreat down the hall, further away from where I cower, trying my best to keep the tears at bay. Pulling myself together, I am finally able to straighten up, and pausing by a handy bowl, grab a couple of apples on my way out of the Hotel. Any sort of breakfast is unthinkable after this latest betrayal by someone once one of my closest friends.
Packed and checked-out, I sigh in relief as I climb into my car. Gratefully starting the modest engine, I manage to get the hell out of there without any further encounters. Good mood restored slightly, I point my car towards the racetrack and Eric, taking the back route to Brasov to give myself time to enjoy the beautiful mountain scenery.
~o~
I am going to see Eric at the race today! The handsome biker I met by chance, not once, but three times during the last two days. Now I am going to find him. Me, Suzana Stackhaus, I am pursuing this man. This time, our meeting will not be the result of chance, fate, or coincidence, but by my choice. Deliberate. Does this means I will take this encounter further, that I want to initiate something else with him? A fling, perhaps, or a relationship? Do I really want such a thing? Does he? Is it actually possible that this gorgeous man, who looks rather like a movie star, is genuinely interested in me? Or will I just be making a fool of myself?
All is well for the first few minutes of my journey until a rising wave of panic constricts my chest and turns my limbs into ice floes. Pulling off the side of the road, I am fighting the panic attack as I bolt from the car and stumble down to the river that runs along the road.
The limestone boulders are rounded and inviting. I take a seat on a slab emerging from the water that is already warmed by the sun. The clear sounds of the water flowing over the rocks are soothing. I breathe deep, sucking the strong, fresh mountain air into my lungs. Taking off the sandals, I let the soft moss green carpet caress my bare feet, and it work. Slowly, I begin to relax
The only sounds here are the burble of the stream over the rocks, the buzz of a lone bumblebee courting the small white carpet of flowers, and the trill of birds hidden in the dark foliage. The wind whistles through the trees as I dip my hands in the crystal clear water, dampening my forehead and soothing the jangle of my nerves. I look in vain for some trout in the shallow pools at my feet. Maybe it is too late in the morning for them to be surfacing.
I feel safe and serene, basking in the clearing made by sturdy trees, their straight, true forms guarding this small corner of paradise like columns of energy, anchoring the magnificence of the setting to the earth.
It feels like the calm before the storm. However, it is a storm of human making I am headed into, and of my own volition, with roaring metal beasts, race-day crowds, and shouting vendors.
Whatever happens today between Eric and me, it cannot be any worse than my plunging from that impossible height yesterday.
Eventually, with renewed energy, I square my shoulders, buckle on my sandals, and embark again in my car for the race.
~o~
It took few missed turns and doubling back, but in the end, I found myself at the entrance of the airport. Relieved, I park in the general lot for patrons and get in line for a ticket.
Even from afar, I can hear the deafening noise of the bands of motorcycles, even smelling the drifting acrid-smoke from hot engine oil. It is a bit disconcerting after my recent panic attack, but I am not giving up yet.
Once inside the racetrack, there is a myriad of bright colors, powerful engines, drivers wearing leather suits, and a variety of people, mostly men. There are also some girls; most of them dressed as if they came out for a day at the beach, with shirts and shorts that could easily qualify as bra and panties. At least my outfit, quite daring for me, by comparison makes me look like a prude.
I feel alien in the dazzling scene, and I start to question, again, my decision to come here to meet Eric. Feeling increasingly nervous as the chaotic scene continues, I anxiously look around for Eric, still nowhere to be seen.
Following a long ingrained habit, I search for a quiet corner to hide until I spot Eric. However, this is proving to be an impossible task since there is no cover anywhere for the public. I try dialing Eric's number, but he is not answering. I guess that with all this noise it would be impossible to hear a ringtone. Nevertheless, is none-the-less very frustrating, especially as I do not even remember exactly what Eric is riding leathers or motorcycle looks like. Moreover, there are plenty of blue machines at this event, no luck trying to pair him up with his bike.
There are some races going on, with motorcycles running at a dazzling speed on the track, making deafening noises. However, other than paying attention while I scan the competitors for Eric's distinct figure, they held little interest to me.
While I scan the competitors more closely for a view of Eric's distinct figure, the beauty of the event catches my eye. The motorcycles, most very colorful, are running at dazzling speed on the track, clearly demonstrating why they are called crotch rockets. I am thinking I may never find him when I hear a whistle and a voice: "Hi doll! Are you here all alone?"
Turning on the modest heels, I see a man standing right behind me, too close for comfort. His green eyes are intense and sparkling with mischief from under the shadow of his blue cap. He is handsome, with strong, angular features. A green t-shirt and classic jeans are molded by his well-defined, masculine shape. His massive forearms are tanned and impossible to miss; I can barely tear my eyes away, hardly noticing the black elbow patches he is sporting, signaling he is another racer.
"I... I am looking for someone." I answer, a bit shaken by his blatant ogling.
"Aren't we all?" He winks. Puffing out his chest, he introduces himself as if I should already know him. "I am Lemon."
Certainly, he is anticipating I will succumb to his charms or whatever obscure reputation his name might carry. God! I really do not need to fend off some low-rent Lothario right now. I can feel my temper rising, and I spit at him: "Look buddy, I am here to meet somebody, and he's not just anybody!"
With a mocking defensive gesture, he backs down, an apologetic smile on his face.
"So sorry miss, I didn't mean any offense. I will go and let you look for your somebody. But if you want to see a real biker I am over there, with my crew." And he points to a large, noisy group obviously watching his scuttled pick-up attempt. I watch in amusement as he humbly returns to his crew and they gently rib him about being shut down by a girl.
Despite my annoyance, I feel a rising level of satisfaction for not allowing myself to be intimidated by yet another unknown, although perhaps famous, male.
~o~
Having survived a few more pick-up attempts, I am frustrate by the lack of a certain daredevil and am simply ready to just give up, and get the hell out of here. Just as I am making my way to the exit, forlorn and wishing I would never come, a big motorcycle stops a few feet away from me. The figure riding it looks even more imposing, as he unsaddles from the beautiful beast with the fluid movements of a large panther. My throat constricted, I hold my breath as I watch him advancing towards me with a determination that makes me weak in my knees. My eyes roam over his impossibly tall physique. The white bands streaked into the blue leather as though it was moving past at great speed, making me ache to run my hands over it.
I hope it is Eric in this dangerously compelling navy blue leather suit, or I might be unable to resist the advances of this total stranger. I sigh with relief when the removal of his helmet reveals no other than the big blond hunk I seek.
I greet him modestly, avoiding eye contact with him. I am embarrassed by the effect this man has on me.
It is obvious I am not knowledgeable about this sport, so Eric starts to sprout detailed information about the race and his motorbike. Too bad I cannot follow his explanations; all too soon, my head is spinning with terms like laps, left turns, right turns, valve control, cams, air boxes, front fenders, rear fenders... and a whole lot more.
When I meet Eric's friends, Sofia, Andrei, and then his mechanics, Dan and Marius, I am relieved; they are nice enough to include me in their conversation. Even Sofia, who I found a bit cold towards me yesterday, is really very pleasant and welcoming. This is a nice change from the way my work colleagues usually treat me, like the pack's Omega. I have had it with dealing with ill temper of others. Sofia is apparently a sponsor for Eric in this leg of the race. She has a graceful and powerful attitude that demands respect. Such a lady and yet she sits atop her motorcycle with aplomb. An amazing Harley, no less! She even helped me get up on the seat, a difficult task as I am wearing a tight skirt. I blush feeling Eric's eyes roaming over my exposed legs. Anyway, the sensation of grabbing the hard handlebars of that silver machine, literally holding in my hands the helm of such power is amazing.
Andrei is friendly and full of life, bouncing all around like a kid, excited by everything he sees and hears. I suppose he is a kid, after all, even younger than I am, in a place full of toys. He and Sofia seem to be an item, despite their obvious age difference, with her acting a bit possessive about him. Moreover, Andrei seems to worship the ground she walks on.
It is clear she also inspires a great deal of respect from the tech guys, passably informed and competent, if I am any judge. They love to brag about their families, and show us lots of picture of their children. Dan has a girl, a real young lady with the biggest black eyes I have ever seen, while Marius is the proud father of two toddler twin boys, an adorable pair of cherubs. Eric just rolls his eyes at my gushing over all this and nudges them to get back to work making the final adjustments to his motorbike.
Eric himself interests me the most, always moving restlessly, making adjustments, checking in verbally with his team. He is generous with his time, too, introducing me to the well-wishers who make their way to him. They all look up to him. He is their golden boy. My heart flutters in my chest, as I take in his sparkling presence, so warm and full of life. I heartily wish that he is victorious in the competition.
All the races have been exciting but nothing prepares me for seeing Eric compete. He is so focused, so intense in the competition; merging with his motorbike to emerge as a single untamed beast, the lion king among an ominous horde of lesser contenders. My pulse seems to beat at the same insane speed as the one propelling him around the track.
His first race proves easy, but the second one requires serious effort. He is a champion competitor, much as I imagine a knight in a tournament might have been, although Eric is riding a metal horse in this event. There is no denying that there is danger at every turn, as they lean towards the ground to balance the centrifugal pull, each time nearly touching each other in attempts to pass. In a flash, I remember the popular nickname for motorbikes: 'organ donors'. My heart leaps in my throat as I see Eric close to lying flat on the ground on a left turns he passes his opponent and seizes the leadership. Simultaneously thrilling and terrifying—that is how I would characterize this sport.
When the final race is declared, all I can think about is throwing myself into his strong arms, overwhelmed with joy to have him back unharmed.
Still, I am not brave enough to give him a kiss, as I would like to do. Somehow, it happens anyway, his mouth settling over mine. Firm and demanding, his lips spark passion, like living fire, through my parted lips, filling me with the same wildness that fueled his race and brought him victory. Once again, he is the winner, only this time I am his willing prize. Our kiss ends before I fully comprehend what has happened, leaving me in a daze.
With blurry, star-dazzled vision, I see Andrei jumping into Eric's, kissing him with an equal fervor.
Wait! Kissing Eric on the mouth.
I must not be seeing straight. Or maybe Eric turned his head, just as with me, and their lips met, as with me. Was not much of a kiss, just lips pressed against lips, lasting only a brief second... or two? Anyway, it is odd, and hot, and... So not going into that. It may be a can of worms if I break out an opener. No point in over-thinking this anyway. Likely to have been just an accident. Andrei is clearly with Sofia here, who by the way just kissed Eric loudly on his both cheeks. And Eric invited me, a woman here. Right?
At least I hope he likes me in that way. Urgh... This is frustrating. How I wish I could be a mind reader!
The next event is called. Apparently, it is a stunt show performed on motorcycles, something I have never heard of before today, sort of a motorcycle acrobatic troupe.
Watching the trick rider teams assemble for their performance, I recognize the guy who hit on me earlier, riding a neon green motorbike. I guess he has a reason to consider himself famous, after all. He was probably expecting all the girls here to be groupies.
The tricks he and his crew perform are indeed exciting. The kind of excitement you feel watching a circus trapeze show, while the racing is like seeing a bull fight.
About a dozen motorcycles do some incredible stunts, ranging from the sublime to the reckless. From riding on a single wheel, first the back, and then the front one, which I learned is called a wheelie to others with the rider standing, or facing the rear of the running bike, to countless others that seem like thinly disguised death wishes, it is an impressive performance.
The most fascinating thing for me is the two girls on the team joining the men in their stunts. They are just as good as the guys, and my eyes are glued to those two. They must be about the same age as me, probably better looking though, I think. To see them so empowered, so confident stirs something deep inside me, that same spark that led me to the Bungee Jump.
Too soon, the show is over, the riders are waving, and the crowd begins to disperse. I am so grateful to Eric for inviting me here, to share this amazing experience with him and his friends.
Sofia excuses herself, leaving with the mechanics to arrange some logistics. Turning, I see the stunt guy, Marian, coming to our group.
"Eric! Congratulations, old man!"
Eric greets him by gripping his hand and pulling him close for an affectionate bear hug. They are obviously friends, and I hope he will not try to embarrass me in front of Eric by mentioning our previous encounter. However, it turns out he is the one embarrassed for being rejected by a girl. I sigh in relief when he acts as if he is just meeting me for the first time.
"Hi, I'm Marian Lemon."
"Suzana" I wave, turning a blind eye to his hand stretched out towards me.
"Man! That was awesome! I'm Andrei." Our enthusiastic kid companion almost jumps into Marian's arms, grabbing and shaking his hand. "I've never seen anything that amazing!"
"Would you like to meet with the crew, and see my new motor? Today is the first time I've performed with it in public. It is a genuine piece of history. I bought it from the late stunt legend Feri Potzner. I might even let you try it." He addresses the last to our group, winking at me.
"Sure! May I ride it a bit, please?" Andrei is almost breathless in his hurry to answer, already turning to go. I cannot stop smiling at his excitement and Marian's deft handling of his new admirer.
"Perhaps..." he grins, amused by Andrei's behavior, too. "Miss Suzana?" Marian directs the question to me, with the raise of an eyebrow. I find his polite words slightly off key, knowing what I do about his earlier attitude towards me when he mistook me for a bike groupie.
I really want to take a closer look at the two women that I saw performing, so I nod and accept his invitation. He is an Eric's friend, after all.
Marian's green motorcycle is nice, but much smaller than Eric's is. I suppress a giggle at the thought that nice probably is not a word he would be glad to hear me say. He begins bragging about the adjustments he's made, and I am once again awash in technical terms like bars, subcages, and others while he makes subtle innuendos about handlebars that fly right over my head. Unlike with Eric, I now have no patience for such a boring discussion, even minus the pointed allusions, so I politely excuse myself and head towards the two female stunt performers. Probably my sudden lack of interest can be explained by the simple fact that he is not Eric. No piercing blue eyes or heart-warming smile. While Eric is the living embodiment of a sex god, this one is obviously just another womanizer. So boring, and oh so predictable.
The two females, welcome us in a friendly manner, especially Andrei whom they wiggle up to, kissing and giggling with him. Cristina is the blonde slender sister of Marian, while Nina looks more like a strong brunette Amazon. I am disappointed that they have little time for my questions, except for some unwelcome eye-rolling and nudging me about Eric. Since I am unwilling to talk about him, I am soon left out of the conversation altogether. Well, except for Marian, who hands me his business card.
"This is our Club. Whenever you want to come for a visit, you are more than welcome. We have monthly monster-sized parties. The next one is in two weeks. But you do not have to wait until then. This is my number. Feel free to call me anytime." This Casanova just won't give up.
"Thank you." I nervously play with the white rectangle of cardboard. Not quite my way to spend my free time, but who knows, maybe now is the time to start changing my habits? I find myself wondering if Eric would invite me to go with him to such a party.
"Actually, we are going to hold a big celebration for the end of this leg of the race tonight. Would you like to join us?"
During our conversation, I notice that Sofia has followed us and "rescued" Andrei from the clutches of the two women bikers. He seems reluctant to let go of them at first. I do not know what she whispers him, but it must have been good, because he soon follows her retreating figure like a lovesick pup.
"I really don't think so." I answer, tearing my eyes away from the two lovebirds. "I have to be at work early in the morning, in Bucharest."
"Okay then, but do call whenever you want to experience a great party. I always live up to my word."
Waving good-bye, I turn back, searching for Eric. When I eventually see him, he smiles to me, probably to match my silly smile, and his beauty again strikes me. I feel like my heart might fly out of my chest whenever I meet up with him by accident. Of their own will, my feet carry me towards him, my eyes locked on his. It is as if he has me hypnotized with those sparkling azure eyes.
However, I am torn from the tractor beam drawing me into his orbit by a load noise to my right.
Like a horror movie played frame-by-frame, in slow motion I turn my head to see a huge red car rushing towards me. My feet refuse to move, feeling as if they have grown roots and are anchored deeply in the ground. I'm frozen in place. There is the sound of a woman shrieking. It is me? My eyes are fastened on Eric, and I can see his lips moving but I can't hear a thing over that damn shrieking. My sight is drawn again to the machine hurtling towards me, and I feel a pounding, then the weight of a heavy load falls on me, trapping me beneath it.
Coming to with a massive headache, I realize Eric's limp body is covering me. I manage to get my right arm free, and push him down a bit, just to be able to breathe. My head seriously hurts. I freeze when I notice he is not moving. Trying not to panic, I stop struggling since I know it might be dangerous to move him if he is injured. He feels too heavy to move by myself. After what feels like an endless amount of time, the rescuers arrive and his body is rolled off me.
I still do not dare open my eyes as I feel gentle fingers probing my body for injures.
"What happened? I am fine... please take care of him." I manage to get out, and start to struggle ineffectually to stand up. I have to see him! I have to see what has happened to Eric!
"Hush, don't move. Everything will be okay. He's going to be fine." I manage to focus my vision, and recognize Sofia, kneeling next to me. Looking around I see groups of people huddled together in clusters, avoiding looking at me. Finally, my eyes land on Eric, as he lies on a stretcher, to my left. His eyes are closed, and he is as pale as a sheet of notebook paper. He cannot be dead! Can't! The hysteria threatens to flares, as reality seems to fade away at the sight of my so vibrant companion now looking defeated and lifeless.
"Don't you dare faint on me!" Sofia's sharp tone snaps me back. Then she leans forward to whisper in my ear, "He needs you. "
I do my best to keep a cool head. When I finally calm down, I turn to my left, my right side still feeling numb. Watching him closely, the weight of the world is lifted from my shoulders when I finally see Eric open his eyes.
"I'm here!" I greet him, observing the confusion on his face at finding me lying beside him.
He tries to answer but the doctor who has noticed his movement and begun testing him diverts his attention. After a decent amount of investigation, they are satisfied he is stable enough to move. It looks like the main problem he has is at one of his leg, perhaps it is broken, so they restrain it with a removable splint. However, since both of us were unconscious for several minutes we must go to the hospital for further testing.
~o~
Thanks to Sofia, who, after I handled my car's key, reassured me that she and Andrei would follow us, I am taken in the same ambulance as Eric. He is slightly bigger than the stretcher, and his hair is failing loose over its edge. I lightly caress his golden tresses, unable to resist to touching him, even if I really do not want to disturb his rest. He seems to be dozing from the painkillers the doctor gave him before they moved him.
Without him, I would be in the ambulance by myself, severely injured or worse. It is possible that he saved my life today. Feelings of regret, relief, and guilt take over, and resting my head on the edge of his stretcher, I watch him for a few moments, my erstwhile savior. Then I lose it, and the floodgates open, the tears streaming down my face as I think how close to death we both came today.
Today is my name day and is good to have this chapter to post now. Please review, it is important to me to know your thoughts about it.
As always, there are pictures for this chapter in my profile, including of how I see Lemon, the sexy biker hunk.
In addition, you might like the "GP's tiny red thing" pool on my profile, where you can vote for your favorite red scrap of fabric, or underwear for Eric's GP, from group of five photos.