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Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 01

By: shandal



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

    *

She was dancing with absolute abandon when he first saw her. Long blond hair swirling out, her long lithe figure wearing a short black skirt, her incredible legs encased in black tights, her feet in what only could be described as 'Fuck me' boots.

Misha stood, drink in hand just watching her, entranced. He had only been in New York for three weeks, and already he was enjoying the fast paced night scene, so different from his home town of Westwood just outside of LA where his life had been more laid back. Music blasting out, the atmosphere frenetic, the smell and feel of the club was pounding through him, and now he had another sensory overload the moment he noticed her. Unable to tear his eyes away he leant against the railing, his long body alert, watching to see if she was with anyone special.

Robin walked over with his arm around Joanie laughing, "See you've had your interest poked there Misha my man."

Glancing at his friend he smiled, "She certainly knows how to move." Looking around he noticed he wasn't the only one watching the woman, her arms up high above her head as she gyrated to the beat of the music.

"And how to get all the attention...She's loving it!" Robin's wife told the two men, "Just watch how she's thrusting out her breasts as she moves, every man in this room is probably watching them."

Misha's eyebrows rose up, his light blue eyes riveted on the way the blond was moving her hips, mimicking the movement of making love. Putting the beer bottle down on the floor, he walked up behind her and moving his own body up close to her back, he mimicked her movements, his hands holding her hips, as they danced together in a sexual and suggestive dance.

Suzanne felt the male body behind her and two large male hands at her hips, and looking over her shoulder as she kept on moving her body, she laughed with delight as she saw that the owner of the sexily moving mass was a tall, black haired and very good looking man.

Provocatively rubbing herself against him, she felt his hardness, and throwing her head back against his shoulder to look up at him she blew him a kiss before turning around to face him, her arms snaking around his neck. "Not seen you here at the club before?" she shouted over the music.

"First time. What's your name, I'm Misha."

"Nice to meet you Misha, but I don't give out my name to just anyone. My momma told me to be careful of strangers."

"Do you always do what your momma tells you?"

"Depends on what it is...."

Wrapping his arms around her tighter, her body so close to his that you couldn't slip a sheet of paper between them he bent down and kissed her. 

Not the kind of kiss you would give to a stranger, nor to your maiden aunt, but a long slow, deep wet kiss that lasted for ages, causing his heart to beat faster and his already hard manhood to harden even more. Breaking the kiss he whispered in her ear, the music still pulsing along with the other gyrating bodies surrounding them, "Let's go and break some of your momma's rules." and grabbing her hand he guided her across the room and out of the club.

Walking along, his arm around her he asked her again her name, but she shook her head and pulled him into the small alley they were passing and leaning against the wall pulled his head down for another kiss. She was aggressive, calling the shots, her tongue swirling in his mouth, her hands reaching for his flies, her long right leg raising up and rubbing against his. Growling deep in his chest Misha pulled up her tight skirt, and grabbing her buttocks with both hands pulled her hard against him.

"Give it to me now. Give it to me hard." She demanded as she bit his neck.

Misha had never experienced anything like this, and lost in the swirl of red hot passion he pushed down her tights, and cupping her breast as she pulled out his rock hard shaft he positioned himself, entering her with a long sweep and throwing his head back grunting in pure bliss.

The coupling was neither long nor with any finesse, just two people having raw sex against a wall, but the explosion of movement was dramatic as they fucked, his mouth seeking hers, her nails scoring the skin of his back under his tee shirt, pounding away until within moments they both came.

Breathless he stood leaning against her, his heart racing, his face bent down buried in the side of her neck, his legs trembling with effort to keep himself up, and then he heard her laugh. That same laugh he had heard in the club. Loud and joyful like she knew something he didn't. "Not bad sugar, but lets get you home and see what you can do laying down." Pushing him back she pulled up her tights and wriggled her skirt down, "Where do you live?"

Zipping up his flies he laughed, "A couple of blocks further up, think you can control yourself until then?"

"That depends sugar on what you're offering to do." Misha just stared at this crazy creature he had only just met, and watched as she sashayed out of the alley into the street, her 'Fuck me' boots clicking along on the sidewalk, her small tight little ass twitching, "You coming big boy, or am I going to have to find me another."

He didn't need a second invitation and running to catch up he asked her again, "So what's your name, now we're no longer strangers?"

"Suzanne. Got any coke stashed at your place?"

That was the first inkling that Misha got that this siren he had just tangled up with had a very bad drug habit, and would end up turning his world upside down.

*

In the afterglow he lay there, her body sprawled over him, her hair tickling his neck, her small hand with the big silver rings next to his face on the pillow. Staring up at the crack in the ceiling of his small walk up apartment he felt stunned, his whole body relaxed, his mind unable to take in what had just occurred tonight.

He was an experienced man, good looking and tall, and he had never had problems with attracting women in his life, but this, this was something different. This was everyman's fantasy. A stunning women, fantastic sex, his control had been completely out of his hands as she had led him through an absolute unbelievable session of completely uninhibited and erotic lovemaking, the likes of which he had never known.

Turning his head to look at the clock on the bedside table he noticed it was almost four in the morning. He needed to get some sleep, as tomorrow he was due at his uncle and aunts for Sunday lunch and he had a hunch that this tempestuous bundle laying on top of him was not going to be easy to handle in the morning.

*

Suzanne knelt in the middle of his bed, completely naked, her high pointed breasts pointing straight at him, her face a petulant pout. "What do you mean you have to leave soon sugar. I thought we could spend the day in bed?"

Sitting there at the end of it he turned and looked towards her, "It's my family, Sunday lunch. Maybe we could meet up after, say about six tonight?"

"Tonight?" moving down onto her back and spreading her bent legs so he could see her glistening sex, "tonight I might have found someone else, someone who has a little bit more energy than you have, and can give me a little more attention."

Recognising the emotional blackmail for what it was, he grabbed one of her ankles and pulled, dragging her body towards him, "Sugar," he drawled in a mock southern accent mimicking her own, "it's tonight at six, or nothing. Get dressed and let's get moving."

"At least feed me before you kick me out."

"OK what do you want? I've got eggs I can scramble or I can make some French toast."

Getting back up onto her knees she smiled, "Make it a Bloody Mary. I like a liquid breakfast myself."

Misha just shook his head and stood up, "French toast it is, and a nice healthy glass of Orange Juice."

Watching as she crinkled her nose and slid off the bed, he admired her naked butt as she sauntered into the bathroom. This crazy woman needed a keeper, and ever the white knight he wanted to be the one to make sure she was kept safe, protected from herself.

*

His uncle Dmitri sat opposite him at the table, asking him how he had settled working for him at his Corporate Video Production Company, and how he was finding New York.

"New York is great, so much more vibrant and fast paced than back home. I'm really enjoying the work, there's so much to learn, and the guys are really helpful."

"You making new friends Mikhail?" his Aunt asked as she put down the bowl of roast potatoes in front of him, "I've got a friend Jeanette whose daughter Alice is about your age. I could get her to give you a call if you want."

Sipping the wine as he sat back in his chair, he smiled inwardly to himself. Yes he had made a new friend, not one his Aunt would approve of, but one he couldn't wait to meet up with again tonight.

"No that's OK Aunt Helena, not just yet. I'm too busy settling in. I'll let you know if I need any introductions, but thanks for the offer."

"She's a nice girl Mikhail. Very sweet, you could do worse."

"Leave the boy alone Helena, he's big enough to get his own 'friends', and Alice maybe sweet, but she also takes after her father, and although he's a really good friend, I would never call his daughter or him normal sized. Extremely large would be a good description Misha, even a bit kind actually."

"Oh shut up Dimi, the girl isn't extremely large, just well padded, and she holds it well."

Misha half heartedly listened to his aunt and uncle discussing the merits of Alice for a while, his mind really on Suzanne and last nights fantastic sex. The woman was so un-inhibited and vivacious that he felt like a moth drawn to a flame. The last few years he had been working hard to get his degree at UCLA, whilst at the same time working at doing a little modelling for catalogues and magazines.

The accident at the age of twenty-one that had robbed him of his dream to swim for his country had also taken away his scholarship, and left him with some scars on his leg and back, but he was a focused person and hard work hadn't fazed him, so he had thrown himself at obtaining his Business Degree, partially at the cost of his social life. Now he was going to make up for it, and New York was the place he intended to do it in.

Cutting in to the lively discussion about the merits of Alice he asked his aunt, "How's Corey doing up at Westchester, is he enjoying Berkley?"

Beaming at the mention of her son who was Misha's first cousin his Aunt launched into a long description of his first year so far, and how she was sure he was going to be the next best thing in the Marketing World.

*

Running up the stairs of the subway, taking them two at a time, he rushed weaving between the people in front of him who were walking much slower, and then down the block until he arrived at the designated place they had arranged to meet. Ten past six, and as usual as so many times in his life he was late, panicking that she might not have waited for him as she didn't seem the type to do so he cursed himself for not leaving earlier and miss-timing the journey. 

She wasn't there! "Shit, shit, shit." He hissed under his breathe and started to pull out his mobile to give her a call on the number she had given him that morning as they left his apartment. He noticed her walking slowly towards him, her long legs in skin tight jeans, a tight white cotton camisole hugging her body like a second skin, her unbound breasts with the hard nipples clearly showing through the thin fabric, heavy silver hoop earrings dangling from her ears, her long blond hair hanging down her back. He watched as men who walked past her in the opposite direction did double takes, and he knew how they felt. She exuded a pure sexuality, hot and open, and the pull he felt was deep and primal and very, very masculine.

"Been waiting long sugar?" she purred as she walked up to him, placing her arms around his waist, "I needed to meet up with someone and it took a little longer than I thought."

"Not long, want to get something to eat before we go in to the movie?"

"Yeah, lets hit the Carnegie Deli, I like the atmosphere there."

Walking his arm around her shoulders, her hand holding onto the back pocket of his jeans they moved along making their way to Seventh Avenue, with Misha feeling as if he had just won the lottery, on a real high, the woman under his arm chatting away her words dripping into him as she spoke in her honey dew southern accent telling him about her favourite haunts in this buzzing city that they had both transplanted themselves into.

Sitting down at the table at the back of the Restaurant, he asked her about where she came from and what she did, and in-between picking at the food on her plate she explained that she came from South Carolina, the town of North Augusta and had escaped over a year ago to follow her dream of making it in New York on the stage. She told him she was attending drama classes and doing the rounds of agents and auditions, supplementing her money by working at a small fashion shop just round the corner from where she lived in the East Village with four other drama students, and that in the last year the only job she had gotten was as an extra in a TV commercial for beer.

Misha listened, watching her animated face as she talked, his Pastrami on Rye forgotten, drowning in her grey green eyes, her pupils dilated, as he got pulled deeper into her orbit, her attraction for him like the gravity of the moon, totally inescapable. 

Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 02



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

    *

Robin and John sat opposite him in the bar, the beers in their hands forgotten as they heard about his adventure with the blond after he had left the club on Saturday night. Shaking his head Robin told Misha, "Joanie told me to tell you to be careful with this one; she looks like she's trouble."

"Nothing I can't handle Rob. It's just that she gives off this energy and I find her fascinating."

"You sure that the energy she gives off is not chemically induced? I heard that the club we were at is famous for its easy supply."

Shaking his head Misha told Robin, "Yeah, well it's not as if we're all angels in that respect. I seem to remember getting crashed out more than a few times with you back home over the years."

"Amateurs, we were amateurs. A little weed and some speed now and then does not drug addicts make."

"Who said anything about her being a drug addict Rob? It's a long leap from knowing that the club is famous for its coke and ecstasy supply, to Suzanne being a drug addict."

Rob glanced sideways at John, "The man's got it bad, and fast, he's dazzled and thinking with his dick."

John, always the most level headed of the three of them told Misha, "Just take it slowly, you only met her three days ago, and from the performance she was giving in the club Misha, and from what you've told us happened she wasn't completely clean of personality enhancing chemicals."

Standing up Misha looked down at his two best friends. They had been together since they were babies, their mothers all best friends and growing up together they had shared so much, including sharing digs at College, and then Robin, Joanie and him following John to New York when his friend got the offer to work at the Bank as an Analyst. But right now Misha was not in the mood to listen to good advice, and he told the two men, "I appreciate your concerns, but please butt out of my sex life." Stepping back from the small table he told Rob, "Did I interfere when you got tangled up with Christina and all her crazy baggage?"

"No man you didn't, but maybe you should have. The woman was bad news for me, and I love you too much as a friend to see you get tangled up with a woman who looks like she's trouble with a capital T."

But he wasn't listening to them, he was listening to his libido, and his heart, and both of them were telling him to ignore good advice and scratch the itch that seemed ever present now in his groin whenever he thought about her.

*

Sitting up in the bed he watched her as she brushed her hair, the long blond strands shimmering as they fell down below her shoulders laying against the long slim line of her back.

"Now sugar you're just gonna have to wait until next weekend as I'm starting rehearsals for a class production."

Mitch lay back stretching, "That's great, when can I come and see you perform?"

Turning towards him she smiled, "Is that on the stage or in bed?"

Laughing he asked her, "Do you always turn everything around to sex?"

"Isn't that all men are interested in?"

Sitting back up, Misha shook his head, "No of course not. I'd love to see your work. Get to know what rocks your world, what you enjoy."

"Then you'd be the first one." Turning back to the mirror she picked up the mascara and started to brush it on her eyelashes, "Every other man I've ever met is only interested in one thing."

Misha didn't say anything in reply at first, just wondered why she thought that she was not interesting enough as a person to only hold a man through sex, but over the past week he had realised from what she had said that her self worth seemed to be tied up with her sexuality and her allure to the opposite sex.

"So can I come and watch you rehearse? Maybe afterwards we could go out and grab something to eat."

Standing up she bent over to pick up her dress from the floor where she had dropped it hours before. Slipping it over her head Misha watched as her beautiful body disappeared inside the soft pale material, telling her, "You have to eat, I have to eat, we can eat together."

Slipping her feet into the sandals she looked at him for a moment, "OK sugar, you can watch, then feed me. I'll write down the address as I leave, we start rehearsals about five, see you there." and then she was gone, the smell of hot sex lingering behind, the small bedroom feeling empty without her strong presence, quiet and still.

Misha climbed out of bed, stretching his arms over his head, feeling the pleasure of muscles moving and his spine lengthening out. Walking over to the mirror that only minutes before she had been sitting in front of he looked at his body, turning around to look at the reflection of his back where the red lines now lay that her nails had scored into his skin. The woman was wild in bed, and it was like riding a whirlwind, unpredictable and exciting and like nothing he had ever known, but he wanted to know her more on a deeper level and if he had learnt anything this past week she was a difficult person to pin down on her feelings, throwing up a smokescreen whenever he tried to get to really know her and her feelings.

The woman was an enigma, and he loved solving problems.

*

Sitting at the back of the small theatre he watched the classes' rehearsal as Suzanne stood on stage, saying her lines as Mary, the wife in O'Neill's classic masterpiece Long Days Journey into Night, her movements tight as she played the morphine addicted wife.

Watching as the Director stopped the action on stage and gave the tall skinny actor that was acting with her some advice on a better way to block out his scene, he watched Suzanne, recognising the tell tale signs that she was getting wound up.. 

"Lets run through the scene once more." and jumping down from the stage the Director sat down and watched as Suzanne promised her stage husband that she would never touch the stuff again adding wistfully "but I suppose you're remembering I've promised before on my word of honour..."

Prophetic words that Misha would get to hear in real life over and over again in the next two years as he learnt just how fragile Suzanne really was.

*

The juice of the hamburger dripped down his chin as they sat opposite each other, the noise in the busy restaurant loud even at this time of night, Suzanne was moody sitting picking at her salad, feeling down after the rehearsal. Wiping himself with the napkin he told her, "I thought you were great, I'm amazed at your ability to remember all those lines."

"I was crap, the director was paying all the attention to Brad, and he ignored me."

"Suzy, he probably thought you were doing it fine, and the reason he was paying attention to the guy was that he was the crap one."

She sat back the petulant look on her face, her arms folded across her chest, "He didn't even tell me if he liked the way I moved during that last speech."

"I thought you were great, I loved the way you moved. I was impressed."

"But your not the important one, I need the Director to think I was good, I need his attention on me."

"You'll get his attention when you need it Suzy."

"No Misha, I want his attention all the time. I need to have him make me shine out, be the best in the production, have all eyes on me. I need to be the one that everyone looks at, and no-one else."

Like a cornucopia her need for attention could never be filled, and Misha sat looking at the beautiful creature in front of him, her meal forgotten, her mood swung down low by the failure to get focused a mans attention only on her. Picking up her glass of wine she told him, "One day I'll be a famous actress and then all those people who didn't pay me attention will regret it, they'll wish that they had noticed me then, and I'll have my revenge." 

Later as they walked along she was laughing, high on the wine, her mood lighter, her body dancing and twirling next to his, people staring at the beautiful woman as she made her madcap drunken way along the sidewalk. Misha grinned next to her, also warmed by his intake of wine, but not as far gone. Loudly, the wine stripping off her inhibitions she asked him, "Lets go clubbing, there's a great place round the corner, I know the doorman, he'll let us in first if there's a queue." Grabbing his hand she pulled him along, and they turned the corner to walk past the small queue to the front entrance.

Walking up to the man standing holding the rope, she trilled, "My, look who it is. Charlie, how you doin', long time sugar."

"Hi Suzanne, where've you been?"

"Oh just around, here and there. Club busy tonight, any chance of getting in? I've brought a friend that's over here from the West Coast. He's only in town for a couple of nights and never been to an absolute real New York night hole, and I told him this here's the club that's the only place in town to be seen in. How about it Charlie, going to let us in?"

Picking up the rope he told them, "Come on Suzy, you know I can't refuse you anything." and moving past the well built bouncer she gave him a kiss and dragged Misha with her through the doors and into the Club, the noise swelling up from down the stairs to the entrance area up at street level.

Down in the club proper she made straight for the dance floor, her body moving and swaying in time of the music before she had even reached it, Misha following. They danced, Suzanne in her element, surrounded by moving bodies, the atmosphere sweaty and heavy, the beat of the music thrumming through the crowd, the swirl of colours and laughter and movement mingling into one. Sweat trickling down his back and chest Misha danced next to her watching as her erotic movements started to attract the attention of other men, who turned towards her, all of them dancing as one large group, bodies pushed up close in the crowed dance floor. This, he realised was what she wanted and needed, to be the centre of the vortex, to have the validation of the men in her orbit. She fed off and grew on the attention paid, and he was just one of many caught up in her pull.

*

Later as he stood waiting to be served she told him to get her a Vodka and coke and then disappeared towards the cloakroom, coming back out a little later to grab the drink out of his hand, her eyes bright and sparkling, her body somehow vibrating even more, and taking a long drink told him, "Lets get back on the floor, I feel a second wind coming on."

Misha sipped his drink, watching as she pushed into the mass of bodies, disappearing except for the pair of risen arms swaying along that marked out her progress. The woman had so much energy. He was shattered and work meant getting to bed soon or he would be too tired to get up. Walking into the moving bodies to follow her, he leant over and shouted in her ear, "Come on lets go, I need to get to work in the morning."

Turning her body so that her back was towards him and moving suggestively rubbing against his front, she shouted back, "I've only just started getting going, lets stay here, forget work, lets live."

"No Suzy, I've got to go, I'm on a videoing job tomorrow and need to be a little alert and awake, lets go."

"You go, I'm staying." and she danced away, moving through the crowd, away from Misha who stood watching, his mood suddenly angry and hurt. Turning he left, walking a couple of blocks until he hailed a cab and went back to his apartment alone.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 03



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

           *

Henry stood explaining to Misha how the lighting was best placed to eliminate any strong shadows as they filmed in the open plan office area of Ingleside Holdings, the company that they were making the Corporate Video for. Working for his Uncle Dmitri and learning the ropes from the bottom up, Misha loved the production side of making the video's and an eager learner he was absorbing up any help and advice that his colleagues were giving him, building on what he had learnt with his degree.

"Direct light is too harsh and makes the face a little scary looking, so avoid, this is not a horror flick it's a business video and the people want to look their best. Avoid any light from behind, window or such like, it puts the person in silhouette, and throws shadows, and shadows have distinct edges. Go for diffused light, it softens and flatters the face." Passing a bulb to Misha, "See how the bulb is coated at the end, the light hits it and reflects back out diffused. Questions to ask yourself when setting up, where is the light supposed to be coming from, and what are we trying to focus the eyes on?"

Nodding Misha started to help set up the lighting, the physical work helping him to forget Suzanne and the scene last night in the club. Unsure of whether she wanted to see him again he decided to play it cool and not chase. He had his pride, even if a part of him wanted so much to go over tonight to the rehearsal hall, grab her and shake her. She was making him feel emotions he had never felt before, and he was not sure if he liked not being totally in control of the situation. So when he woke up this morning, his head thumping from too much drink, he had stood under the shower, the water pouring down on his face, and came to the decision to let her do some chasing if she wanted him. If she didn't then he would chalk this up to one of his life's experiences.

During the day he watched and learnt. The totally professional men in the team liked the friendly and eager young man. Naturally gregarious and laid back he got on easily with the small crew of four, and at the end of the day, once the van was loaded up with the equipment Henry asked him if he wanted to come along for a couple of beers with the others.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"We'll unload the van at the office, and then go up the block to the Irish Pub. Cameron is sweet on the girl behind the bar and is getting the courage up to ask her out."

Later the five men sat, beers on the table in front of them, Cameron staring at the dark haired girl as she served other workers at the end of the day, his deep brown eyes behind his glasses following her every move.

"Got it bad Cam? Go and ask her. What have you got to lose?"

"My dreams if she says no."

"You can't live on dreams boy, go and ask her."

"Leave it Blane, I will when I'm ready."

Misha turned his head and looked across at the woman, a round face with apple cheeks, her thick hair falling out of where it was held bunched up on the top of her head, her face unblemished without makeup she looked fresh and sweet, until you noticed the skull and crossbones tattooed on her right shoulder, revealed by the sleeveless top she wore and the gold hoops piercing her lip and eyebrow. Looking back at Cameron, his slight frame and his preppy look he couldn't picture them together, but then who was he to judge.

"Go for it Cam, she looks like a real sweetie."

"I said leave it. I'll ask her when I'm ready."

The conversation change to sport and the latest game played last weekend, and a good natured discussion on the finer points of the heritage of the player who fumbled a pass, and then Misha stood up asking who wanted what for the next round. Walking over to the bar he stood waiting to be served by the tattoo wearing focus of Cameron's dreams.

"Yes my love,' The girl looked up at him with an interest in her eyes, "what's your poison?" her soft Irish lilt was easy on the ear, and he estimated she stood no more that about five feet and probably weighed about ninety pounds soaking wet.

"Five Bud's," he watched her smile at him, "You're Irish?"

"How did you guess? The accent gave it away huh? Just outside Dublin, small village down on the coast." She pulled up the bottles, putting them on the bar. "You're American?"

Laughing Misha told her "How did you guess? Did the accent give it away? From California, a suburb just outside of Los Angles."

"Never been, but would like to see it." Taking the money he had passed over to her, she turned to the till and got his change. 

"What's your name?"

"Shevaun, Shivvy for short, what's yours?"

"Mikhail, Misha for short. Listen my friend over there; the one with the glasses really likes you. Mind if he comes over for a chat. No strings attached."

Peering past Misha to the table where Cameron sat squirming, aware that Misha and the object of his dreams was talking about him, she nodded. "Sure, send the cutie over."

Picking up the five ice cold bottles he said, "Thanks." and walked back across the room to the table where he put down the bottles and told Cameron, "She wants to meet you. Go over and just talk. The rest will come easily if you just talk and relax."

"What do I say?"

"Just ask her about herself, where she comes from, how long she's been here in New York, that kind of thing. Talk, conversation. No pressure. If you feel it's going well ask her out. If it seems it's not, well no sweat, at least you've introduced yourself and she knows you're alive."

Misha watched as the nervous man got up, rubbing his hands down the side of his jeans before picking up his beer and walking over to the bar.

"OK, bets on him coming back over here after bombing out" Blane hissed, "I'll take less than five minutes," and placed five bucks on the table.

Henry and Misha looked at each other, whilst Terry reached into his pocket and said, "Ten minutes."

"How about you guys, you in?"

Misha shook his head. "Nope, but I'll match you that he succeeds."

"You're on!"

*

Misha walked along the towards his apartment, he had stayed drinking with the guys, winning his bet, until gone eleven thirty grabbing something to eat at the pub and now he was almost at the entrance to his apartments. Getting out the key from his trouser pocket he almost tripped up over the figure huddled on the stoop.

Looking down it was Suzanne, still dressed in the clothes he had left her in last night at the club, but now dirty and torn, her hair a mess, her face streaked with the mascara that her tears had ran down.

"Jesus, what happened to you." Bending down to check her out, "You hurt? Have you been in an accident? What happened?"

Her face looked up at him, her eyes glazed, "I didn't know where else to go."

Her plaintive voice broke his heart, "What is it sweetheart, are you hurt."

Shaking her head she just started to cry, and Misha automatically scooped her up in his arms, standing, and with his key opened the door and pushed through. She was shaking and sobbing, and he still wasn't sure if she had been hurt in some way, so striding up to his place he rushed in, carrying her into his bedroom where he placed her down on his bed.

"Sweetheart, please tell me, what's wrong. What happened?"

"I was there, and then I remember there was a fight. I don't really remember sugar, I'm so tired." and curling up on her side she started to fall asleep.

Misha stood, running his hands through his hair. Not sure what had happened to her he decided to undress her and check for any injuries. Slowly peeling off her clothes and trying not to wake her, he checked for any injury, but apart from a nasty looking bruise starting to form on one arm he could see nothing. He could however smell the drink and the strong smell of marihuana. Even her dress smelt of it. Covering her up he stripped off his clothes and went into his bathroom taking a shower before climbing into bed and curving his body around hers. 

He slept, but it was a restless sleep, waking every so often to check on her, worried that she might throw up in her sleep and choke, listening out for any sign of distress.

*

The next morning he slipped out of bed, pulled on his jeans, and went into the small kitchen area to make some strong coffee. He had to be into work soon, but was worried about leaving her in the state she was in, so decided to phone and explain that he would be late. 

Walking into the bedroom he bent over the sprawled out figure in the bed and started to wake her. "Suzy wake up, come on sweetheart wake up.....that's it.... Come on now, open your eyes. Come on, sit up for me."

Watching her run her hand through her hair and moan, he reached across for the coffee he had put on the side table and wafted it under her nose. "That's it honey, come on... here this will help." Standing he watched as she sipped the hot liquid, the duvet falling across her lap, her naked body curved slightly forward, her slim arms holding the cup up to her face.

"What happened Suzy?" sitting down on the side of the bed he waited until she felt she could speak.

"I guess I had too much to drink."

"What else did you have?"

"Nothing....."

"I don't believe you."

She gave him a defiant look. "I don't care if you don't believe me, I was just pissed."

Misha stared at her, sure she was lying, but not sure if it was worth arguing the point. "How did your dress get torn?"

"There was a fight. I ran. I can't remember much."

"Sounds like a crazy night! You do this a lot?"

"NO."

"Ok. Calm down." He watched as she finished the coffee. "Feeling a bit better?"

Nodding her head she looked like a little girl who had been told off. "Go have a shower and freshen up. I'll lend you a something to wear over the torn dress." Then standing back up, "I'll go cook us something to eat, and before you ask no it isn't going to be a Bloody Mary. It'll be something to absorb up some of the booze still in your system." and with that he walked out.

A while later she wandered in, wearing one of his tee shirts, her hair wet and hanging down her back, face scrubbed clean, just as if nothing had happened, fresh and looking so young. Misha smiled at her as she took her seat at the little kitchen breakfast counter. "Bacon and eggs, sunny side up, toast and orange juice coming up. Get this down and then I need to get going."

"Where are you going?"

"Work."

"Can't you stay here with me today; take the day off of work?"

"Nope. I work for my Uncle and I've already phoned to say I'll be late in, but I need to go."

"Can I stay here today? Wait for you here?"

"How long were you outside last night?"

"Not sure. Maybe a couple of hours."

Shaking his head he looked at her sitting eating the food, "No classes today, no rehearsal?"

"Mmmm... rehearsal later."

"Ok. You can let yourself out when you want." He started to go to his bathroom when he heard the question, "Couldn't lend me twenty bucks sugar, I've run out of money to get home."

Turning around he stared back at her, the look on her face totally without guile, her smile sweet, her eyebrow raised in query. "Ten, and you use it to get home, and nothing else."

The pattern had started. The carer and the dependent. Tied together with each with their own unique needs. Hers to fill up the empty insecurity inside of her, his need to look after her, and to make sure she was alright.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 04



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

    *

Laughing they watched Letterman, her body draped over his on the couch. She lent against his back, her arms over his shoulders, her face looking over his right shoulder her body pressed against his back. He could feel her vibrate against him as she laughed out loud at the story that the actor being interviewed had told.

"Man, that guy just breaks me up. Just love his crazy English accent."

Misha grabbed the last piece of cold pizza out the box and bit into it. Over the past week everything had been going along smoothly. No repeat of that night when he had come home to find Suzanne drunk on his door step. She had been fun to be with and they had spent every night together, either at his place enjoying themselves or out with John, Robin, and Joanie.

It was if the beautiful woman draped over him was two different people, the sweet woman that was great fun to be with, or the loud, flamboyant and exhibitionistic party-girl that needed attention from men. Misha had gone each night to watch her rehearsals after work and then they would either go out or go home, enjoying each others company. At night they made love, their bodies craving each other, the sex hot and wild, Suzanne always enthusiastic and inventive leaving Misha wrung out and laying there, his body sated, and in wonder at this bundle of womanhood he had found.

"My mom is English like him," he nodded at the TV screen, "she came over here to the States when she met my dad."

"Does she talk like that actor, real funny?"

"No, she has a kind of mid Atlantic accent. I have family over in England that as kids we went over and visited during summer vacation. My Grandma and cousins, down in a place called Guildford, they talk more like him. How about your family? They all have a slight southern accent like you?"

"I only have my mom. She was a single mother, my dad ran off while she was pregnant with me. The bastard hasn't been seen since."

"No other family?

"They disowned my mom when she fell pregnant. Having a child without the ring around your finger was not the done thing in South Carolina where my mom came from. She left and settled in Augusta and had me. Never saw her family from that day to this."

Turning his head to hers over his shoulder he said, "I'm sorry."

"No need to be sugar, what you've never had, you don't miss."

But he knew she was lying, her could hear the wistfulness in her voice. The hurt and the rejection. He was beginning to understand her, what upset her. Turning completely around and grabbing her he pulled her down on the couch, moving his body over hers, and in a mock English Accent said, "Well what have I managed to catch here. A real honest to goodness Southern Belle, perhaps I had better capture her and claim her for England." Biting her neck, he heard her throaty laugh and in an even more pronounced mock Southern accent she drawled, "Well bless my little cotton socks, I do declare that this poor little Southern Belle has found herself in a difficult situation. Pray my good man, what is it you want from me?"

"To have my evil way." and Misha started to move down her body, biting and kissing his way down, his hands removing her clothes out of his way until he came to between her thighs where he looked up and laughing told her, "The things I do for mother England!" before he bent his head and with his tongue started to do things both their mothers would be shocked about.

*

Dmitri sat behind his desk in his office with Misha standing behind him looking out of the window onto the street below. "I know your aunt is being pushy, but she would like you to come by yourself to dinner. She wants you to meet Alice, no pressure Misha. Just come, meet her and that will be it."

"Dimi, I'm already seeing someone, and it would be both cruel to this girl that she wants me to meet, and puts me in a difficult position."

"Just humour her Mikhail. Once you've met her, you don't have to do anything else. I promise."

"Just this once to please her, but she has to realise that I don't need any help meeting people, and I'm very happy with Suzanne."

"Good, be around at eight. Don't wear the jeans. Now Henry tells me that you're doing fine, pulling your weight and he's please you're on his team."

Walking around the desk to sit in the chair opposite his uncle, one long leg sticking out by his ankle hooked onto his thigh he told him, "I love the work; it's what I wanted to do. Thanks for giving me this chance."

"No problem Misha. You know, you've always been my favourite nephew. You're so much like you father. He was a special person and I miss him still. When we were young he would always wait around to walk me home from school. We would stop off on the way, where he would always buy me some candy with the money that he had earned from working at mowing neighbours lawns or cleaning their cars at the weekend. A caring and generous man."

"Yeah I miss him too. When I was in the hospital and woke up after the accident he was sitting there next to me crying. It was the only time I ever saw him cry."

"He told me he was heartbroken that your dreams were going to be shattered."

"I was shattered at first, I'd been working towards my dream to make the cut to swim in the Olympics since I was young, but Dimi, I soon realised that while my dreams were shattered, I was lucky to be alive and still have my right leg. That soon put it all in perspective."

"But it would have been such an honour."

Leaning forward, his arms on his spread out thighs. "Mmm..... But it's no good looking back. I have other dreams, other plans now."

"What are they Misha?"

"To have my own video production company like yours Dmitri, one I can grow and be proud of. That one day will be the best around."

"Not lost your edge of competitiveness I see Misha."

"Nope, but I promise not to open it in New York when the time comes."

Smiling at the young man, so like his father in looks and personality he told him, "In the meantime don't disappoint your aunt and don't be late tomorrow night. It's not the only thing you've inherited from your father; you've got no sense of being on time."

*

Suzanne was screaming down the mobile at him, "So are you ashamed of me then?"

"No. You know I'm not. Suzanne it's just a family thing. My Aunt and Uncle asked me over and I promised to go."

"But not take me?"

"No Suzanne, I told you it's just a family thing."

"Then fuck off Misha." 

The phone in his ear went dead, and he sat at the end of his bed, shoulders slumped. He should have known that she would have been angry and hurt at not being invited. But he was in a difficult position, wanting not to upset his aunt and uncle, not wanting to hurt Suzanne. He'd decided to go tonight and be polite and friendly, but now it had upset Suzy and he really didn't want to do that. Getting up and grabbing his trousers where they hung in the wardrobe, he slipped his legs into them, pulling on and then zipping them up, deciding he would deal with Suzy tomorrow once she had calmed down. 

Later as he sat at his Aunt's large Art Deco maple dinning room table he asked Alice who was sitting opposite him what she was doing at the moment. Getting the obtuse and flat answer from the frizzy haired woman, "What right now? Visiting your Aunt and Uncle."

"No what I meant was what do you do for a job. You know work, career."

"Oh. I see. Work...."

"Yes, what do you do?"

His Aunt answered for her, "Alice is a clerk at her father's depot."

Nodding she told him, "It's over in the Meat Packing District."

"Really! I went to a great restaurant there the other week."

Reaching over to place more meat on her plate, she told Misha's aunt, "This is very good lamb."

"Thank you Alice."

Misha sat eating, the time dragging on as he tried to make small talk but finding it difficult. At the end of the meal as he helped clear the table his Aunt asked him, "Well Mikhail, what do you think. Do you like her?"

Putting his arm around her shoulder and kissing her cheek he tried to let her down carefully. "Helena, thanks for thinking of me and wanting to help me whilst I'm in a new town, but I've met someone I've gotten involved with. Believe me if we break up I promise to put Alice at the top of my list to ask out. It just isn't the right time now."

Looking up at her nephew she smiled, "She's not really your type is she?"

"Nope."

"Well it was worth a try. Her mother will be upset. She really wants to get her off of her hands."

"Mmmm. Have you tried Corey?"

"Yes but he's not as polite as you. He told me where to get off when I tried to set him up."

Laughing he kissed her on the cheek again. "Better get Cousin Jesse over from Westwood. He's next down the line."

*

Lying in bed later that night he heard his mobile ring. Rolling over in the bed he reached for it, looking at the time. Two thirty. Looking at the number he didn't recognise it so putting the phone to his ear he said, "Misha....?"

"Look, you don't know me, but I got your number from Suzanne. I think you need to come over right now."

"Who is this?"

"Arlene. I'm one of Suzanne's house mates. She's taken something and is crying. You need to come over right now."

Sitting up he asked her "What? What has she taken? Have you called for medical help?"

"She says she doesn't want anyone except you. Can you get here soon?"

"What has she taken? Is she alright?"

"Just get her soon. It's a bad trip. She's really in a bad panic, she's crying and asking for you."

"Shit."

"Just get here." 

He got the address and quickly dressed whilst holding his phone to his ear and dialling for a cab. Grabbing his things he ran out the door and down the stairs to wait for the drive over to her place. When he got there he met Arlene who introduced herself and showed him into Suzanne's bedroom, where she sat hunched up on the bed, her arms wrapped around herself, rocking and wild eyed. Stepping over the mess on the floor of tangled clothes he climbed up on the bed and hugged her to him. "Suzy....Suzy....what are you doing to yourself."

Arlene and another girl stood in the doorway. "She hasn't done anything like this for over a year. Last time was when some guy she was going out with dumped her for someone else."

Suzanne's arms around his neck, her face tucked close into his neck, her shaking body curled up into his. He asked over head to the girl in the doorway, "How long ago did she take the tab?"

"Not completely sure, but I think sometime during the past four hours. She came home from the club early and went into her room and then we heard a lot of noise, came in and found her in this state."

"Get me some water and a cold flannel." Lying down on the bed holding her, he waited through the night for the bad trip to end, keeping her close, whispering in her ear words of comfort. Letting her know she wasn't alone. Sometime in the early hours of the morning she settled down quietly and then drifted off to sleep, leaving a strung out Misha holding her, his head pounding.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 05



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story.

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

     *

It had been three weeks since the incident where Suzanne had the bad acid trip. Misha had sat down with her the next day and tried to get her to see a councillor at her College to help her deal with her problems, but she just shook her head and told him she would stay clean. 

That she had learnt her lesson. 

That she was sorry. 

She would never do it again. 

She would clean up her act. 

That she loved him.

Misha held her whilst she told him she loved him. She begged him not to leave her. He held her, telling her he loved her and would look after her. That everything was going to be alright.

Slowly they made love. There on the bed where he had held her during her bad trip, the sheets around them creased and messy, the room strewn with her things, the smell of sweat and fear mingling with the musky smell of sex. Sordid and dirty, the room didn't reflect the sweet act of love that played out on the small bed.

Normally the sex between them was wild, but somehow this seemed more fitting. Slow and gentle he kissed her, stroking her body, removing their clothes, arching up to let her feel his hard manhood, her small hand holding him as he pressed himself into her palm.

Soft words of encouragement whispered between them, and he bent his head to her neck, kissing her there, telling her he would always look after her. Her small breasts rose up as she arched her chest towards him, and taking them in his mouth he felt her hard nipples against his tongue as he suckled and lathered them. Listening to her small gasps and moans, her body moving sinuously below his, her legs bending up, her hands sweeping down his back stroking his nerve endings under his skin, and as his mouth trailed a line further down, kissing and licking her slightly salty tasting skin, he tried to make her feel loved on the only real level of reassurance she seemed to respond to. 

The two lovers entwined on the bed joined to each other, giving pleasure, re-affirming a promise, giving hope, and moving on to the next stage of their relationship.

*

It had been four months since they had met and most nights had seen her staying at his place, bit by bit her things appearing in his apartment. Shampoo and gel in the bathroom, clothes in his wardrobe, shoes on the floor of the tiny living area, piles of books strewn over his table, and makeup everywhere he looked.

Suzanne had been true to her word and stayed away from the drugs, and he had become aware of the real fragile nature of her personality, and as they had lain in bed, the quiet night surrounding them, her usually busy mind and body replete, he would ask her questions, listening and putting together her fractured past, and trying to understand what made her so brittle sometimes, as if she was scared of just being still and being in touch with herself.

There were times when she would drink much too much, times when her insecurity caused arguments, times when he tried to make her understand his relationships with his family and friends didn't mean that his love for her was diminished in any way. But her fragile feelings of rejection would surface every so often and there would be flare ups, with her over-reacting, then the Tequila would come out, and she would party out at clubs, dancing wildly, attracting attention, feeding the demon inside of her.

He went and watched her in the College production and was proud of her, sitting with Robin, John and Joanie in the audience, listening to the applause as she stood on stage glowing in the approval, and afterwards at the first night party she was the glowing, enjoying the congratulations from everyone, her smile bright, her eyes even brighter.

He had taken her to meet his Aunt and Uncle, introducing her, and she had been on her very best behaviour. Charming them, bringing his Aunt flowers and subtly flirting with his Uncle, making the older man feel special.

As they were leaving his Uncle told him what a nice girl he had found, and how sweet she was. Misha just nodded and smiled, remembering the scene earlier at his place as they got ready. Suzanne in a swirl of panic, swearing and throwing clothes all over the place as she looked for the right thing to wear, scared that she wouldn't look perfect for meeting his family.

His life was not calm or steady with her, but he loved her. He loved the passion that lay inside her, loved her clever mind, loved her little girl lost side that surfaced when she was faced with something that she wasn't sure of, loved her earthy sexuality. He enjoyed their sharing of a sense of humour, watching re runs of 'I love Lucy' and old nineteen fifties film noir movies in black and white that they both loved, hiring DVD's of old Robert Mitchum , Alan Ladd and Bogart movies and sitting eating Chinese or pizza curled up on the couch, quoting lines together as the actors strutted their way through the mayhem in the movie.

For four months all seemed to be going well, and then slowly she started to change.

*

"I hated sharing with those girls anyway, they were boring provincial little sluts."

Misha hauled the box into the hire car, placing it on top of the pile of her possessions, "Suzy you're two months behind with your rent, they were right to ask you to leave if you couldn't stump it up. They need to rent out your room to make up the short fall."

"Don't you sympathise with them Misha, they were happy to borrow my things when they wanted, eat my food, drink my booze, but not give me a little more time to get hold of the outstanding money."

Shutting the back door to the car he folded his long body behind the wheel, "Well no problem, staying with me you don't have to find the rent. You've practically moved in already."

"Yeah sugar," leaning across the seat to kiss his cheek she laughed, "and your cock has practically moved into me." Joining in the laughter he pulled the car out into the traffic, "For such a refined Southern lady you have a particularly dirty turn of phrase."

Slumping down, her bare feet up on the dashboard, her long bare legs rising up from the short denim skirt distracting him, "I'm not refined sugar, just a southern girl from the wrong side of the tracks." Pointing to a local corner store she told him, "Pull over here, I need to get some drink."

"We don't need it; I've got a couple of bottles of wine back at my place."

"I don't need wine, I need some Tequila. Park over there and wait, I won't be long."

Sitting in the car he waited as she went inside the shop, coming out five minutes later, the bottle inside of a brown bag, her smile wide and carefree. "This sugar is mother's milk, let's go home and party."

After unloading the car they curled up and celebrated, Misha trying to keep up with her shot for shot, but losing. As the evening wore on she became more morose, telling him more about her home life back in Augusta. "They all thought that just because my momma was a single mom and she worked cleaning some of the big houses the other side of town I was a nothing. But I'll show them the bastards." Picking up the bottle she filled up the small shot glass, "small town mentality, small town morals."

"You don't have to impress anyone Suzy, only yourself. Don't you know that?"

Looking at Misha, at the end of the couch, her feet on his lap, she told him, "Yeah, well look at you sugar, what do you think the swimming was about, if not to impress others? Where does your driving ambition come from if not to impress your family and friends?"

"You're wrong. The swimming was for me. It was my way of stretching myself, of being the best I could be, of achieving results and beating the opposition for my own satisfaction. I love swimming, and I still enjoy it even if I'm not competing anymore."

"Crap, you told me yourself that at each swim meet all your family would come and watch to cheer you on. Your aunts and uncles, your cousins and parents. What was all that for if not to impress them."

"They came to support me, not to be impressed. The same way I went to my cousin's football games or track meets, that's what big families do, they support each other. Even when I lost they were there for me."

"Nice to have had a big family, nice to have any family!" and knocking back the liquid in her glass she told him, "to feel secure and not alone."

Reaching for her he pulled her up onto his lap and kissing her whispered, "Your not alone sugar plum, you've got me."

"Have I Misha, have I got you?"

"Yeah, you've got me. I'm not going anywhere Suzanne." 

*

A week later he found it, stashed behind the microwave in the kitchen. He would never have known if the damn microwave hadn't worked and he needed to check the fuse in the plug at the rear of the machine. Standing in shock, looking at the small plastic bag with the white powder he forgot about the bowl of soup waiting to be heated and felt like he had been sucker-punched in the gut.

She had been a little hyper lately, but he had put that down to the fact she had been auditioning for a role in some television soap, and was wound up waiting for a call back.

Picking up the offending package he walked over to the couch and put it on the table in front of him, sitting down and waiting for her to come home from the shop where she was doing a late evening shift. That's how she found him when she opened the door, sitting there in the semi dark, his arms folded across his chest, the look on his face angry and hurt. She saw the small packet on the table in front of him and ignoring him walked into the bedroom to change into her jeans. Following her into the room he stood by the door watching her as she pulled the tee shirt over head. "Ok tell me how long?"

"Drop it Misha, You're not my keeper."

"I said how long have you been back taking it?"

"Fuck off."

Striding up to her and grabbing her arm he shouted, "Fucking tell me. Is there any more stashed around the place, or is that packet the only stuff here?"

"Let go of my arm you bastard. I told you I'm not your pet. You don't own me. I can do what I want."

"No you bloody can't. Not in my home. Not if you want to stay here you can't. Not if you want us to stay together."

The silence between them was electric. Misha realised that it was the wrong thing to say to her. He watched the shock on her face, then it change to one of fear."

"You don't mean that?"

"Suzanne that stuff is no good for you. I can't deal with you when you get high. I love you and want you to be well, and to deal with what's eating you and for you to learn how to cope without taking drugs or getting drunk."

Walking into the lounge with Misha following her she went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. 

"You throwing me out?"

"No."

"What then?"

"We flush the stuff down the pan, you tell me where else you've got some stashed and we'll get rid of it too. You start to deal with your problems by talking to me. Telling me what's hurting you, and we share your fears and deal with them together."

Walking over to the table he picked up the packet and walked to the bathroom, Suzanne following. Picking up the toilet lid he opened the packet and watched as the white powder floated onto the top of the water before flushing the lever. He turned to see Suzanne standing tears in her eyes, her face scared and drawn. Opening his arms he invited her into his embrace.

"I didn't get the part. They didn't like me."

"Come here sweetheart, I promise you we'll deal with this together."



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 06



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

     *

John sat next to Misha as they drank their coffee in the Rockefeller Centre, watching the world go by. 

"So you think there is something deep in her past that causes her to be so insecure? To use the drink and drugs as a coping mechanism?"

"Yeah. When we talk about her past she clams up about when she was young. I know she felt inferior to her peers at school due to her mother being a single mom and struggling to cope. We're going to visit her mom next week and I'm not sure whether to ask any questions or not."

"No, Misha don't. But have you considered this. Suzanne is fairly provocative with men. Even when you're around she flirts."

"I know. It's her way of re-affirming herself. I realise that and don't mind. So long as flirting is all she does."

"Mmm...Misha she relates to men and not really to woman. She gets her way with you by emotional blackmail, or by sexual means. The first time you met her she was having sex with you within the hour. Have you thought that maybe...and I do mean maybe, she learnt early on that men only want one thing from her?"

Misha looked at John, his blood draining out of his face. "I don't think so, I think it's more a matter of validating herself as she told me once that she was the proverbial ugly duckling, not really blossoming until she was eighteen, and then the boys paid her attention and for the first time she didn't feel like she was outside of the crowd."

"Well whatever the reason she needs professional help"

"It's the one thing she refuses."

*

He had enjoyed the drive down to see her mother. They had hired a car and taken four days to drive down, staying in motels and sightseeing. Suzanne was relaxed and the two of them marvelled at the beautiful scenery as they drove through Virginia and onto their final destination in South Carolina. 

Misha watched as Suzanne took deep breaths at the top of a hill where they had stopped to admire the view. She looked so young and fresh, with no makeup on, and wearing a loose flowing top that fluttered in the breeze. Standing behind her, his arms around her, they stood in peace, her hair stuck on the stubble on his chin, ruffled as the slight wind caught it.

It was a moment in time he would always remember, one that settled in his heart, and in the future when he thought of her he would picture this moment and smile.

"So untouched, so unblemished." She observed, "Untouched by man, wild, clean and fresh."

She turned around in his arms, hers rising up to encircle his neck and kissed him.

"Thank you Misha."

"What for?"

"For putting up with me."

"Works both ways sweetheart."

Smiling at each other, their eyes locked, and the emotion they both felt passed between them.

"You know I love you sugar."

He whispered "I know," as his lips closed over hers, and the kiss, sweet and warm told her how he felt about her. 

Lifting his face he told her "and I love you too."

*

Slouching back in his chair, he admitted defeat. "That was the best fried chicken and gravy I've ever had."

"You sure you won't have another piece?"

Raising his hands, palms out he gestured as he told her, "No thanks, I'm packed full. If I have another piece I'll pop."

Suzanne's mother laughed, she looked so much like a slightly older version of her daughter, just a little more care worn around the edges. The house was small but neat, with pictures of Suzanne everywhere. Pictures of her at every age, one of her playing at a toddler, her hair tied up in a ponytail, sitting on grass, some toys in her lap, smiling up at the camera. Another of an older Suzanne, glasses perched on her nose, her hair cut short, skinny and awkward looking, peering into the camera with a frown.

When they were looking at the picture earlier he had looked at her and said, "I didn't know you needed glasses?"

"I don't anymore. Thank God for laser treatment."

Her mother told him, "I saved up and gave it to Suzanne for her eighteenth birthday. She hated wearing the glasses." Putting her arm around her daughter's shoulder she kissed the side of her head and told her, "She was just as pretty with them as without them, but it's what she wanted."

"Mama you know what they say, men don't make passes at girls that wear glasses."

"They say some stupid things darling, if that was true then half the woman in the world would be single."

Misha stared down at the picture, understanding a little more about Suzanne.

Grabbing his hand and pulling she told him, "Come up and see my old room." and they walked up the stairs to a door at the back of the tiny hallway. "In here."

Small, so much so that with the two of them in it the room was almost full up. A single bed covered with a pink duvet and a couple of well loved stuffed toys rested lengthwise down one wall, and a small white dressing table, sat at the end of the room in front of the window, covered in creams and cosmetics. Misha stepped over to it and picking up a half used tube of foundation commented "Nothing different here. Just like at home, all your crap covering every surface." 

Suzanne walked over next to him, "It's not crap sugar, its war paint."

"Is it a war? Is that how you see it? Men against women."

"War between the sexes," shaking her head, "No. More of a war against nature."

"Suzanne you're a beautiful woman. When are you going to believe it?"

"That's thanks to all the 'war paint' sugar, and the laser treatment."

Misha looked up at the posters on the wall, one of Marylyn Monroe posing in the Seven Year Itch, her white dress floating up around her legs, her breasts pushed forward in the halter top, and another of Bogart wearing his white tuxedo in Casablanca.

Dreams and fantasies. Not real life. Hollywood images that she had bought into.



Later, lying on the couch, where he was meant to be sleeping with a blanket thrown

over him he missed her. He found it difficult to get comfortable and he missed 

Suzanne who was sleeping up in her small bedroom, the bed too small for both of 

them, and the couch too short for his long body.

During the night she crept down, and woke him up snuggling down next to him so that they lay face to face squeezed onto the old uncomfortable sofa. Suzanne needed the comfort of arms around her to sleep, hands stroking her skin, breath teasing her neck.

Men's arms around her for comfort. Misha's arms.

*

A couple of months later Joanie walked in from the kitchen in hers and Robin's apartment and put the bowl of Chilli on the table, "Tuck in boys, grubs up."

"So Joanie, what am I? Invisible?"

"No Suzanne, just a turn of phrase, I change that then to tuck in boys and GIRLS, grubs up."

Sitting down she exchanged looks with her husband. She really didn't like Suzanne at all. The woman just downright annoyed her, but she bit her tongue, just like Rob had told her to do, hoping that Misha would soon get over her and break up. In the past eight months she had been a part of their group of friends, somehow always engineering it to be the centre of attention, sulking if she wasn't. Drinking hard and keeping up with the boys, Suzanne always seemed to be in competition with everyone. Everyone except Misha whom she seemed to adore, hanging off of him, draped around his body, smiling up at him and fussing around him, just as he did with her, the two of them very much a couple. His dark good looks and her effervescent blond sexuality made them a very charismatic and striking couple, but lately she had watched in the background as she saw her friend starting to change before her eyes, no longer the laid back carefree man she knew, but watchful and tense much of the time.

As they sat around the table John asked Misha if he was going over to LA for his mother's birthday next month. 

"Yeah, the family are gathering together at Uncle Sasha's for a family Bar B Q, what about you guys, are you coming over?"

"I can't get time off from the bank, but you're going Rob aren't you?"

"Yeah, Joanie and I are going to take the opportunity to go up to Sacramento to see her family afterwards, but before that I've arranged for a night out with the guys for us at 'The Venue'."

"Sorry I'll miss that, last time we went there your cousin Teddy was going out with that girl, the one with the red short spiky hair and freckles."

"Yeah I remember her, she's the one that was a gymnast and he swore made his eyes water each time they did it."

"Do you remember that night, Vince Hockey was there and spilt his drink and Teddy put his hand in his pocket to bring out a handkerchief to wipe him down and out came a pair of woman's black underpants. Broke the group up, couldn't stop laughing. The pants still smelt faintly."

"Teddy's girl went bright red, as red as her hair. Almost one colour all over. Man that was one wild evening. Your cousin Andrei drank so much he threw up in the car park down the side of someone's car, never found out whose, and John went home with those two sisters."

John sat there smiling, the memory of the two sisters in his bed that night one that he treasured. "If you see them give them my love and tell them I still think of them on cold lonely nights."

Suzanne piped in, "Nothing to brag about, men not holding their drink!"

Joanie looked at her, her slim frame draped in an almost see through pale green top, the shadow of her nipples clearly visible, her nails painted a bright green, her jewellery around her neck heavy amber beads. "Misha's family can be a little conventional Suzanne, his Uncles see the women in the family in a traditional way, and they're hard working middle class men who like to drink hard but expect the women to stay sober."

Robin kicked her under the table, and Misha shook his head gently, trying not to let Suzanne see his small gesture at Joanie, but it was too late, she had lit the fuse in her, unwittingly picking on Suzanne's main insecurities.

"Well fuck me, maybe its time the men in his family met a real woman then. Us southern gals can drink you Californians under the table drink for drink, men included," Sitting forward, her eyes glaring at the other woman she continued, "and I don't need advice from you. I put up with people like you at high school, always looking down at me, thinking they were better in everyway, not inviting me to their 'special parties'. Well fuck you. Misha has asked me, and I'm going and if I want to drink as much as the men then I will."

In the ensuing silence there was embarrassed glances at Misha, but he was busy getting up, "Come on Suzy, I think you've had enough now, let's go home."

"Fuck off Misha. I've not had enough, never have enough." and picking up the glass of wine she drained it and reached for the bottle to pour herself another one. Taking the bottle out of her hand, Misha told her again. "Lets go home Suzy, enough is enough."

Standing up in front of his friends she pulled back her hand and hit him across the face, "You fucking bastard you're meant to stand up for me or are you embarrassed to be with me too."



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 07



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

He walked into the bedroom with the black coffee and helped her to sit up to drink it. The hangover was bad, and she was looking a mess.

"God my head hurts."

He didn't say anything, just handed her the coffee and walked out to the kitchen.. The scene at Robin and Joanie's had hurt him badly. She had hit him before, but it had been in private when she had been drunk or high at home and he had tried to stop her. Never retaliating by hitting her back he just retreated into a place inside of himself now, going through the motions, hating her when she got like this.

It wasn't all the time she was like this, just every so often. When things set her off, when she couldn't cope, going on benders, drinking for days and taking the coke or pills to make her high, hyper and vicious. This time was losing out a role to another student at College in an Internet Commercial. 

Rejection always started her off.

He moved to the Microwave, looking for any hidden drugs behind it, then walked over to a cupboard and took down the boxes looking behind to see if she had stashed them there. Moving around the apartment he looked in her favourite spots that he knew she might put them. Finding none he went back into the bedroom and leaning his shoulder against the doorframe watched her as she lay there; looking like the woman he was in love with, but feeling resentful that the demon was back having taken over her body.

"You pleased with yourself Suzy? Enjoyed the scene you played out last night at Robin and Joanie's?"

He heard her mumble an apology.

"What? I didn't hear you."

Turning over she half shouted, "I'm sorry. OK."

Turning around he left her, grabbing his jacket and walking out of the apartment. Strolling down the road he bought the Sunday papers and settled into the small restaurant over the road to have his breakfast, reading them but not really taking the words and the meaning in. His mind was almost numb, exhausted with ups and downs, the highs and lows of living with Suzanne.

He knew in his heart that he really shouldn't take her with to meet his family, just in case she made a big scene, but he couldn't refuse to take her. They were a couple and his mother had told him on the phone how much she was looking forward to meeting her. Meeting the woman he was living with and sharing his life. The woman his family back home hadn't yet met but had been told about by Uncle Dmitri.

How had it come to this mess?

Sober and clean she was the woman he loved, drunk and high she was a nightmare.

*

Suzanne was washed and dressed by the time he returned to the apartment, sitting on the couch, a look of regret on her face. He walked over and threw the paper down on the table knocking off some of her mess piled up on it, then walked into the bedroom to put his jacket in the cupboard.

She followed him in, watching his studied movements, absorbing his silent anger at her. "I'm sorry Misha. It won't happen again."

"You're damn right it won't." he snarled as he turned around. "You have a choice, you can either get help and stop, or get out and we're finished. I'm not putting up with this anymore."

Arms crossed around her middle, he watched the expression on her face turn from worry to shock. "Please, you don't mean it."

"I mean it Suzanne. We're over if you don't stop. You go and see a councillor at college, find out what help they can give you. You're not going to have another drink or take any more coke or Ecstasy, no more pills, no more disappearing into the cloakroom when we go out clubbing and coming out high, no more me watching you have furtive conversations with people at the club, no more misbehaviour in front of my friends."

She walked over to him, looking up, tears in her eyes. "I'm scared."

"So am I. That you might get worse. That one day the stuff will be lethal for you. That you'll get hurt. That you'll hurt me!"

She stepped forward putting her arms around his body. He stood still, his arms by his sides, rigid and unyielding.

"If you stay sober and clean for the next month you can come with me to California and meet my family. If you don't.....I go alone.... and when I return I want to see you gone."

Nodding against his chest she clung onto him.

"I want this place cleaned up, I'm fed up with all your things lying around."

"OK."

"I want you to phone up Joanie and apologise."

She squeezed her arms holding him tighter. He placed her arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "Whatever is hurting you inside Suzanne can't be cured by all that stuff. You need help to come to terms with whatever it is that's eating you up."

"Please don't leave me."

"I won't sweetheart. Not if you stay clean."

*

He climbed into bed with her that night and she turned towards him, leaning up over his body, her mouth kissing his neck, at the point where it was most sensitive. Her teeth nipped at the skin as her hands held down his wide shoulders, her body lying down over his, rubbing against him.

His hands came up around her as his head leant back to give her more room to kiss and she lapped at the small dip between his shoulder bones with the tip of her tongue.

This was her way of apologising, of re-confirming herself, her power and her commitment to him, of binding him to her. Misha knew it and was powerless to stop it. When they made love it was always spectacular. She knew every place on his body that when she touched, kissed, bit or licked it drove him wild. Her clever mouth, which was roaming over his chest, grazing his own small hard nipples, was causing the pleasure to pool deep and hot in his groin.

Further and further down she moved, following the trail of the wiry hair as it pointed down over his belly, where she stopped off, her tongue swirling inside the dip of his navel, making his muscles in his flat belly tighten in anticipation. She then continued to move down, finding his hard penis, holding it in her hands and positioning her mouth over the tip; she coyly looked up through her eyelashes at him, before taking it into her mouth and swirling her tongue around the hard shaft.

His head threw back and his arms rose up to hold the headboard behind him as she licked and sucked at him, her warm wet mouth working him, moving up and down taking him deeper and deeper inside. 

Legs spreading and rising up at the knee, he pushed up his hips to meet her movements, gasping with pleasure as he lost himself to the feelings. Tighter and tighter the pleasure pulled at him until he could feel himself swell and his balls pull up ready to explode.

She drank it all, as she always did, cleaning him with her tongue before kneeling up between his spread thighs. Looking down at his body, his chest rising and falling as if he had run a couple of miles, she smiled. "See sugar, that's the only white stuff I'm going to have from now on."

*

True to her word she had kept clean. Misha watched her blossom, proud of her effort, loving the way she was when she was sober. Playful and funny, she threw herself into making the flat tidy and putting her things away, buying some throws for the couch, buying flowers and an enormous vase that she put them in, spraying the apartment with scent, stocking up the fridge with food, and cooking him meals when he came home from work, tired but happy. Fussing over him.

She had made contact with the councillor at the college and had been to a few meetings, telling Misha that at one she had broken down and admitted that she didn't really like herself.

Pulling her to him on the couch, he kissed her and told her all the things he loved about her, her sense of humour, her clever mind, her talent, her braveness at coming to New York alone, and quietly he told her most of all he really liked her strength to give up the drugs and drink as he knew that was so hard and he admired her for that.

She glowed as he told her all of this, looking like a little girl who had been given a prize at school for being best in class.

Kissing the end of her nose he settled deeper into the couch, believing that the worst was now behind them.

*

Walking hand in hand they wandered around shopping for a birthday present for his mother. "What do think she would prefer... this one or that?" Misha held up the two silken brightly embroidered fashionable wraps.

"How would I know, I've never met her. What colour does she normally wear?"

"Mmm..... never thought about it. Why? Do women tend to wear a special colour then?"

"Men...don't you ever notice anything? We all have colours that suit us better than others. Colours that make us feel good and compliment our colouring."

"Not really, when it comes to colours on clothes I think she wears blues. I can see her in my mind wearing different shades of blues. Blues and black."

"Then this one."

Paying for the beautiful fashionable shawl he took the bag, and placing his arm around Suzanne told her, "Lead me to the next place. One gift is never enough for my mom."

They walked down the road window shopping until they found a small shop selling handmade chocolates. "Misha look at these, these are perfect."

"Chocolates!"

"Yeah sugar, what woman doesn't like chocolate, especially handmade ones?"

Buying a box of selected chocolates for his mother, he also bought a box for Suzanne, which they ate that night between them, binging out on the sweet melting small cubes of different flavours whilst sitting wrapped up around each other on the couch watching a DVD of Robert Mitchum being terrifying in Night of the Hunter.

*

They flew into LA early on a Saturday morning. Misha and Suzanne, Robin and Joanie. Picked up by a couple of Misha's cousins they were bundled into two cars and off to Glendale and the family homes. Suzanne stared around her, taking in the sights as they went onto the Freeway from the airport and over into the suburbs and where his family lived. In the car Misha sat at the front laughing and talking with his cousin Andrei, asking how Andrei's wife and new born baby was, catching up on friends and life in general.

Robin and Joanie sat in anther car with another of Misha's many cousins following them, and eventually the two cars split up, Robin and Joanie being dropped off at his parents home, and Misha and Suzanne pulling up at his family's house.

Suzanne stood looking at the one storey nineteen thirties Spanish influence built home that Misha had grown up in. Serene it sat in a sunny and clean road, well tended frontage bright with flowers and trees; it was both inviting and homely.

Carrying their cases, Misha gestured for Suzanne to precede him to the door, when it suddenly opened and out came a tall and slim woman, with beautifully styled dark hair. 

"Darling..." her arms opened and Misha put down the cases giving her a hug.

"Mom, this is Suzanne. Suzanne this is my mother."

"Hello. Welcome Suzanne. Please come in...."

Following his mother into the house, she told Misha to put the cases in the spare room, and offered Suzanne refreshments, telling her to make her self comfortable in the large airy living area with its wide French doors looking out onto a sweet and tranquil courtyard that the L shaped house curved around.

Putting the tray down in front of Suzanne, Misha's mother asked her if she preferred tea or coffee, and passing her the dainty cup exclaimed, "I'm so pleased to meet you at last. Misha has told me a little about you over the last five or six months on the phone, but he's very bad at giving me much news in his very infrequent calls home....."

Walking in Misha sat down and grabbing a cup poured himself a coffee, "So what terrible things are you telling her about me?"

"That you don't phone home enough Darling."

Ignoring the usual comment his mother made regarding his calls home to her, he asked her "So what news do you have for me mom? Anything up?"

"As a matter of fact yes. I wasn't going to tell you this so soon into your visit, but I do have some news. Your Grandmother is ill back in Guildford, and I've decided to go back home to be with her."

Shocked he looked at her, "What's wrong with Gammy? How long are you going for?"

Putting down the cup in her hand she told him, "Your grandmother is dying Misha, she has Cancer. I'm selling up and going home to England for good."

"My God mom, Gammy dying!... When are you going......?

"I leave next week after you've gone back. You're Uncles are going to arrange the sale of the house. While you're here I want you to choose what you want for yourself, and then arrange for it to be sent over to New York. The rest is being sold."

Misha looked around stunned. This was his childhood home and it was going to be gone. He felt as if the ground had been swept from under his feet, and his mother, she was going to be across the world.

"But that's miles away. Guildford...."

"It's closer to New York Misha than to Glendale by plane."

"How bad is the cancer?"

"It might be a good idea to come over and visit Gammy as soon as possible!"

"I'll clear it with Uncle Dmitri when I get back, and come over to see her."

"Good Darling, she'll be pleased to see you. Make it as soon as you can." "Is it that bad?"

"Mmm...six or seven weeks."

He had thought that this visit was one of celebration but it had turned into an end of an era in his life. One he hadn't really thought would happen.

It was another milestone in the process of growing up.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 08



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

The BBQ was in full swing; people were playing a competitive if slightly crazy backyard game of softball, with two teams made up of men on one side against women on the other, and laughter and loud comments erupting amongst the players. Misha was running, the voices of his cousins cheering him on, as Suzanne stood on the outside of a group of chattering woman who were married to various family members, as young toddlers and children joined in the general melee around the large backyard of one of his Uncles homes. 

She couldn't remember who was who, they all looked alike. Cousins and fathers, tall with dark black hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones and smiles they all merged into one, making Suzanne feel giddy with the amount of family that Misha seemed to have. The women were all friendly, but she still felt intimidated, scared and out of her league. All her old insecurity came flooding back and looking over to the big plastic bin with the beers laying in piles of ice she started to walk towards it, only to feel Misha's arms around her shoulders, and his kiss at the nape of her neck which was exposed by her hair up in a ponytail. He gently led her away from the large drink filled tub.

"Hi. Having fun?"

Looking up at him she told him with slightly wild eyes, "You're family is very loud and boisterous aren't they?"

Misha looked around the large yard, his Uncle and Aunt fussing over the BBQ, cousins running and laughing and people sitting talking everywhere. "Sweetheart, you want us to go inside for while, get a little space?"

Gratefully she nodded her head, "Please."

Walking her into the house and out of the bright sunlight, he led her down to the den, pulling her onto his lap, his arms going around her. "Feel less scared."

"How did you guess I was scared?"

"Because I know you and how you think. Suzanne they like you and they want you to be part of them. I know they can be a little overwhelming so don't worry. If you feel a bit nervous let me know. Ok?"

"Ok."

That is how his cousin Greg found them, and sitting down fanning himself with his hand he sighed, "Wow it's turning nasty out there. War is being declared between Uncle Lev and Nicolai, and there's a discussion going on as usual between Simon and Peter on whose home made sauce is hotter and better. Personally I hate the taste of both of them."

"Suzanne this is Greg, his one of my many cousins, we're the same age and went to school together. He's the one that I told you about that when we were nine put the pink dye in John's parents pond killing off all the fish in there."

"It took years for the dye to completely disappear from the pond, however many times they emptied and refilled it. The water always had a pink tinge after that. Personally I thought it looked better. Kind of made it match the pink stucco outside of the house."

"I think it was a little too Jayne Mansfield for Mr and Mrs Goldberg." Misha told his cousin.

Suzanne laughed. "So why did you do it Greg. Was it to match the colour of the house?"

"No it was to see if the goldfish would change colour from gold to pink."

Misha told her, "It just killed them. Greg was always into experimenting. He's now working as a lab technician at the hospital. I worry for the patients."

Greg smiled, "You both coming out later tonight. We thought we would hit the clubs."

"Yeah, sounds great. What time?"

Getting up he said, "Pick you up at nine." Winking at Suzanne he told her, "I'll send in the next cousin. We're easier one at a time."

*

The day was a blur of people, and Misha watched as Suzanne started to relax and become herself, even to the extent of flirting with his Uncle's. She stayed away from the women, except for Misha's mother who made a point of sitting talking with her at the end of the backyard under a big tree. Misha watched her out of the corner of his eyes, making sure she was alright, checking to see if she was relaxed and not scared or feeling excluded. Every so often he would go over and drape his arm around her, bringing her over to meet a family member or two. Careful to include her without making her feel overwhelmed.

He was so aware that she had the deep insecurity of being an outsider, and worked hard to make her feel part of the group without being besieged by his boisterous family.

Later they went home with his mother to get changed and ready to be collected by Greg to meet up at the club with the others. Watching her get ready while he sat on the bed he marvelled at the beauty of her body, her long slim waist rising up to small pert breasts tipped with the dark pointed nipples. She took his breath away, her movements naturally fluid as she reached up to let down her long blond hair from the confines of her ponytail, the long strands shimmering as they fell in a silken fountain down the length of her back. Her peach coloured skin was soft looking with a small mole towards the base of her spine, small and flat he loved to kiss it, and her small bottom was a gentle curve, hips small, curving down to long shapely legs.

Legs that he knew had amazing strength in them as they wrapped around his own hips as he thrust into her when they made love. Getting off the bed he walked up to her, standing behind her as she looked in the mirror, cupping her breasts in his large hands, feeling the pebble hard nubs with the pads of his thumbs.

"I love you Sweetheart."

Placing her hands over his where they rested on her breasts, she told him, "I love you too sugar."

They gazed at each other in the mirror, smiling. Another memory, another small moment that Misha would treasure and hold in his heart.

*

He watched her dancing, her body gyrating in the crowd of people, her arms above her head, her hips moving suggestively. Smiling as he did so, he knew it was how she made herself feel alive. Men danced around her, watching as she moved, mimicking her movements, like bees to a flower they danced around her, their hips in answer to her actions.

Misha looked next to him smiling at Greg who asked him, "You ok with this Misha?"

Winking at his cousin he answered, "She comes home with me. It's her way of validation Greg, but she comes home with me." and walking into the crowd he started to move his own body in front of hers, watching her face light up as she looked up at him, her arms going around his shoulders, her body moving sinuously against his, her laughter singing out in his ears.

Later, much later in bed he looked up at that same sinuous body, this time naked and sitting on top of him, joined to him, her beautiful breasts bouncing as she rocked those hips, her strong inner muscles of her vagina pulling and massaging his cock as it lay buried deep inside her, his hands holding her hips thrusting up as she thrust down, his mouth open panting and gasping as she dragged him closer and closer to cumming. 

He watched as her back arched back, her long neck exposed as her head lent back, hair swirling down towards his balls as they tightened. The hot rush exploded and then he felt her fall forward onto his sweaty and glistening body, his heart beating loudly, her silken hair falling over his torso like a shroud.

Settling her head on his shoulder and her body to his side, his arm holding her against him, he whispered. "My God that was the first time I've done it in my parents house. I feel like a teenager that might get caught anytime."

Lifting her head up she told him, "Makes it all the more exciting. Get a little rest and we can start again."

Turning on his side he kissed her, "Suzanne, you're insatiable."

"But it keeps you happy doesn't it sugar. Happy and mine."

*

They sat in the Italian Restaurant, the tables formed into a big 'U', the family sitting around both sides taking up the whole restaurant, his mother next to him at the top of the 'U', Suzanne to his left.

It was his mother's birthday party, and the gifts had been oo'ed and ahhed over as she opened them, and now was the speeches.

Uncle Sasha stood up, "Quiet....I said quiet everyone." Banging on the side of a wine glass with a spoon, he shouted above the noise, "OK everyone just shut up for a moment. Nicky, shut up for a moment, I'm going to give a speech." Thirty five odd people groaned as he continued, "As unaccustomed as I am to giving a speech, I feel I need to stand up and say something tonight." Looking over at Misha's mother who sat there a small flush on her high cheekbones, "When my brother Francis brought over his bride that he met in England where he was supposed to be on a University study Exchange for a year back in the early seventies, I was jealous. He had found a classy, beautiful and intelligent lady, with a very sexy English accent, and I know I for one fell in love with her there and then." Lifting his glass up he told her, "Lizabeth, you made my brother happy, you fitted right in with our crazy family, your kindness to all of us is without bounds and we will miss you terribly when you go back to England, leaving us bereft. The only bonus is we will have somewhere to stay for free when we go on vacation over there." 

The sound of laughter could be heard, along with the shouted comments of "Trust Sasha, always trying to save a dime if he can."

"Lizzy, you will always be a part of us, and we hope that you come over to stay with us as often as you can, for you are more than a sister to my brothers and me, but a friend, in all that word really means. We love you and wish you all the best in your future." Rising up his glass he said, "Here's to Lizabeth, happy birthday and bon voyage." Shouts of happy birthday and bon voyage could be heard around the room and then the calling for a speech from the guest of honour.

Misha's mother stood up, her napkin clutched in her hand, tears in her eyes, "I love you all.... I'm going to miss you." Grinning she turned to Nicolai, "but not your hot sauce, Nicky it really is industrial strength and if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, see if you can sell it as paint stripper. You'd make a fortune."

Everyone laughed, even Nicky, and people next to him patted his back. 

She continued, "My mother needs me, and I don't know how long she will last, but I want to be there for her, and to spend time with her, my own sister and her family. But I will always have a part of me here with you, even when I'm over in the UK. I'm taking with me so many wonderful memories; thank you all and I love you all so much."

Misha sat there his heart in his throat, change was difficult to take, but he knew it was what she wanted. They had long talks over the last few days and he accepted this was something she needed to do. But it hurt. He'd always thought that his mother and his childhood home would be there forever, but he accepted he had moved on and now it was his mothers turn.

Still, the little boy inside of him mourned the passing of an era.

*

It was later that evening when he was sitting talking with his mother and his cousin Greg's wife that he saw Suzanne standing in a crowd of his relations, a drink in her hand, he face flushed and sparkling. He watched as she raised the glass of wine up to her mouth and drank, then as she reached for the bottle on the table, refilling up the glass and drinking down another glassful.

Excusing himself from his mother, he got up and walking over to Suzanne he bent and lifted up the curtain of her blond hair, sweeping it aside, bent and kissed the nape of her neck whispering in her ear, "If you're thirsty I can get you a soft drink!"

Looking back over her shoulder she winked, "Ok sugar, and make it a soda." handing him the wine glass, carried on talking as if nothing had occurred, animated and relaxed. 



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 09



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

Sitting on the plane, his long legs cramped up against the seat in front, Misha looked out the window at the fields, small towns and villages of England spread out below him. The plane lowered down over the Sussex and Surrey countryside as it prepared to land at Gatwick, and he swallowed and moved his jaw to relieve the pressure in his ears as the plane ascended towards the airport. During the long flight he had tried not to worry too much about Suzanne, left behind in his apartment, but focusing on the fact that this was going to be the last time he would have with his maternal Grandmother.

During his childhood he had visited Guildford during summer vacations to stay with his Grandmother, playing with his cousins, and getting to know that side of his family. He had as he grew older wandered up to London on the train, going to the London Club scene, shopping in the fashionable Kings Road, catching the odd West End play and hanging around Leicester Square at night, drinking in the buzzy atmosphere as people swirled around, enjoying themselves, falling out The Trocadero into the pedestrian area where artists sat and drew tourists for a portrait that vaguely resembled the subject.

Now at the age of twenty-six he was at that point in his life when everything was at the point of change. He had been working and learning the ropes within his Uncles Video Production Company for the past nine months and he was keen with plans to start his own business, putting his Business Degree and the knowledge that he had learnt on all aspects of video filming to good use. Hungry to become his own man, make his own way in the word, and carve out his life as he wanted it to be was starting to grow deep inside of him, but where to settle? 

New York, Los Angles, or even maybe London.

This visit to his see his dying Grandmother was also a chance to see if he wanted to settle over in England, especially now his mother had announced that she was coming back to her home land to stay.

He had always loved coming over to England, with its slightly different but vaguely familiar ways to the States. It was in many ways a perfect place to start out, making his dreams come true, but would Suzanne come out with him? He didn't know if she would be happy to follow him out. There was a great tradition of Drama and Acting over in London with some of the best Drama Schools in the world, and they could see if a transfer over for her could occur, but she was very much a party animal and she loved New York with its pulse, the fast paced scene, and the quirkiness. It would also mean her cutting ties with her suppliers and contacts that gave her the access to the drugs that she would take to anesthetise herself when things were going badly and she felt the insecurity and rejection in the profession she had chosen, which was often. 

As the ground rushed up towards the landing plane, Misha felt the idea of moving over to England more and more exciting, a clean start for both of them, free of the pressure and the ready supply for Suzanne, and a stimulating challenge for himself on setting up his plans.

Waiting for his case to come around on the conveyor belt, jostling along with the other tired and journey wearing people also waiting he started to formulate his plan. Seeing his luggage he pushed between the large man holding onto the carrying cart as if it was a treasure not to lose, and a family of four, including the kids as they all pointed at each case appearing from behind the screen as if it was theirs. 

"Excuse me...thanks." Leaning forward he managed to tag his case and swing it up off the moving belt and onto the floor. Walking towards the customs area and the exit, tugging the case behind him, he cleared his mind and started to focus on the sad time ahead of seeing his family under the sad circumstances of visiting his Grandmother. A lovely lady that he now realised he hadn't bothered to spend anytime with these past three years and now was almost too late.

Emerging from the Arrivals door into the airport proper he saw his English cousin Tom waiting for him and walking up to the railing he leaned over and the two men hugged. "Long time no see cous'." his childhood summer companion told him as he stood back, "Let me take your case, you must be tired."

"Thanks, the journey over was a bummer, my legs are twice the length of the space they give. Couldn't get comfortable and catch any sleep for the whole eight hours over." They started to walk out of the airport towards the moving escalator belt that led to the exit and lifts of the Short Stay Car Park.

"How's Gammy? How bad is it?"

"The old girl is holding court trying not to make a fuss or show she's in any pain. The Macmillan nurses are brilliant at the pain control thing, and she's ensconced in her bed upstairs. Doctor says about six week's tops."

"My God that's quick. How long has she had it?"

"We think she might have guessed herself for a while and not told anyone. First we knew was when she collapsed three weeks ago and Mum took her to the Doctor."

"I feel a real shit Tom. I haven't been over for almost three years to see her. I thought she would always be there, maybe for me to come over next year for a visit, and now....."

"Don't beat yourself up Misha. She understood. You live a long way away and have a life."

"I should have come over last year."

In the car park Misha almost got into the passenger seat on the wrong side of the car. Laughing he said, "I never could get used to the fact you Brits drive on the wrong side of the road."

"It's not us that drive on the wrong side, it's the rest of the world that does. The left side is the right side, if you know what I mean." Shaking his head Misha settled down into the passenger seat, which everywhere else would have been the drivers' side. "By the way we've put you up at my place.... Hope you don't mind, it's a small flat the other side of Guildford to Gammy's, but your mum is staying with her, and with all the comings and goings of the family I thought it would be better for you."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it Tom."

"No problem Misha. It will also give us sometime to catch up on things and reminisce on the past."

*

Sitting on the side of Tom's spare bed Misha held the phone to his ear listening to it ring. No answer. He wondered where she was. The time difference meant that is was five hours behind London in New York and it was four in the morning, and there was no sign of Suzanne. Where the hell was she?

Yawning he wandered into the living area finding his cousin who handed him a bacon sandwich and a strong cup of black coffee. "Do you want a nap first, or do you want to go over to see the old girl?"

"Mind if we go over first. I can catch up on sleep later, and then go back and spend more time with her."

*

Misha held his Grandmothers hand, looking into her blue eyes, trying to smile as she told him how she had always loved having him over as a little boy, and how she was proud of him now as a man.

"You always were a bundle of trouble Misha. Falling into the pond on the green in front of the house, not just once but twice in one week." Propped up against pillows, she looked frail and shrunken compared to how he remembered her.

"I was fishing with the net for tadpoles in the pond and lost my balance."

"Do you remember the kitten you found and wanted to take home with you to the states? You were always finding things and bringing them home to look after. We always had to find their real owners and give them back."

"Yeah, I remember Gammy. There was that stray dog. The one with only one eye."

"Darling your just one of life's gatherers." Patting his hand she smiled up at him. "I'm so proud of how you turned out. Just like your father." Wincing a little, she moved slightly trying to get more comfortable, and then looking up at him with a serious face she told him, "I've put my affairs in order Misha. I'm telling you, just as I've told your other cousins. The house is to be sold and along with my savings the money is being divided evenly between all of you."

"Gammy please....lets not discuss this...."

"No Misha....we need to discuss this. It's important. I don't want any fighting after I've gone. The money from the sale of the house is being split evenly between the four grandchildren so that you can all have a small inheritance. I want you to use it well. Your mother and Aunt will get the contents of the house, jewellery and the investments between them and the car is going to your cousin Stephen. He has just passed his driving test and I promised him I would help him to get a car, so he gets mine."

"Please Gammy...."

"Misha, I've had a good life. I'm not scared of dying...although I'm a little pissed off as I bought a new dress down in Guildford the day I collapsed and I haven't ever gotten to wear it. Maybe I should leave it in my will. Do you fancy it Darling? Shall I leave it to you? One dress, one owner, not used."

"Gammy...." squeezing her hand, he shook his head. The old lady still had her sense of humour, even whilst lying there, unable to get up, waiting for the end, she was the one making everyone relaxed and calm.

"Darling I don't suppose you would be so kind as to get me a glass of whisky."

"It's only ten thirty in the morning Gammy, how about a cup of tea."

"Misha stop being an old fuddy duddy. I'm dying. If I have a glass of Whisky early in the morning it's not going to kill me. Be a good boy and get me it."

Walking downstairs he found his mother in the kitchen with his aunt. Kissing them on the cheek he told them in a slightly shocked voice, "She wants a glass of Whisky, is that ok when she's dying of cancer and taking drugs?"

"Give it to her Misha. She did always like her Scotch."

"But the medication. Won't it have an effect on that?"

His mother smiled at him, "Misha just give her the Whisky. You can't stop people doing what they want, it's her choice. If it brings her pleasure, let her have it. Each person deals with things their own way."

Pouring out the golden liquid into the cut crystal glass from the decanter his Grandmother kept in lounge, he thought of Suzanne. Was he being a 'fuddy duddy' with her? Was he interfering in her choice of lifestyle. He didn't think so. With her it was often past the choice and moving into an addiction.

And where was she. There had been no answer when he tried to call her again earlier. 

*

Driving back next to his cousin Tom to the flat, he was now red eyed and exhausted, dead on his feet, both from lack of sleep and the raw emotion of seeing his Grandmother laying in her bed terminally ill.

As the traffic on the road came to a standstill, Tom said, "I think we'll come off at the next turning and see if we can go through the back doubles to get to the flat, you look as if you're about to drop."

Weaving the car back and forth, along with a few other cars eventually they came to a T Junction and whilst they were queuing up behind a couple of vehicles to turn left, Misha looked at the development of apartments currently in the process of being built to the right of the car. "Hey isn't that where you're old school used to be?"

"Yes, that's where it was. They knocked it down a couple of years ago, and the land has been sold to a developer. They're building some new high spec flats there. Should be ready for sale spring next year."

Misha turned his head to carry on looking at the half finished building as the car moved forward and then turning to continue its journey. Guildford, he could move here near his family. It was close enough to London via the A3 if he started his business there, and the new apartment block was accessible from there. The idea for a new start was taking seed and growing in his tired mind, and settling back into the seat of the car he asked Tom, "Can you do me a favour Tom?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"Get me the information on the new block of apartments. Costs, layout, the exact timing of the availability of them and when I can do a viewing."

Glancing to the man next to him his cousin asked, "You thinking of buying Misha?"

"Not sure yet Tom, but it could be a possibility."

"We don't see you for three years and then in less than a day you're thinking of moving over here. Anyone ever told you that you have an impetuous streak in you?"

"Yeah, but I've always believed that if you don't take the risk, you never move forward."

Closing his eyes he felt the car move along as he relaxed, ideas and plans forming in his mind.

*

Misha lay back on the bed, the mobile to his ear ringing and getting only her voicemail. "Suzanne it me.... Misha. Give me a call when you get this message. I've arrived in Guildford....Bye."

He dropped the mobile next to him on the bed and lay there, his body bone weary with jet lag and the emotional upheaval vibrating through his mind, and within moments he was in a deep sleep, laying completely dressed, the need for sleep completely overwhelming him. 



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 10



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

    *

A couple of days later Misha and Tom stood in the show apartment looking around during a viewing, the salesman pointing out the added extra's that would come with one if purchased. "The first phase will be finished in the New Year, the second phase six months later. When are you thinking of moving over to the UK?"

Misha walked towards the living area window, looking over his shoulder at the blond haired man, "Sometime next summer, maybe around August." He looked out of the window onto the fields behind the development, "Will the new block have apartments that look out over the open field area?"

"Yes. If you come into the office I can show you the plans, they'll show which apartments have the best views. How many bedrooms are you looking at?"

"Not sure yet, but at least two, maybe three."

Tom walked over to stand next to Misha. "You're serious about this Misha! You really are thinking of moving over here to Guildford?"

Nodding he replied to his cousin, "Yeah. I really am thinking of moving over here Tom. Thanks to Gammy's generous present to us of her inheritance I can use it to help start up my own Video Production Company. I'll start small and build it up. I've got plenty of ideas, and working for my Uncle has allowed me to learn all aspects of the business. I'm going to pitch it to him to back me for part shares in it and move over here to live in Guildford near all of you and my mom. Planning should take six or seven months."

His cousin laughed, "Wow, when you get an idea you really go for it, full steam ahead."

"Yeah...." Walking over to the main bedroom and standing looking at the large double bed he said almost to himself, but loud enough for Tom to hear, "The only thing I have to convince is a certain large part of the whole plan that she has to leave New York and the States and come over here with me."

Later that day Misha sat on the bed holding his grandmothers hand, "What do you think Gammy? Think I'm mad?"

"No Mikhail. I think you're really growing up at last and striking out to be your own man. I'm proud of you, and I'm glad to hear my gift to you is going to be used well. You have my blessing." Raising up his hand to her lips and kissing it she told him, "When your mother fell in love with your father and left I told her this. Don't look back, never look back, and only ever look forward. Because that's where your future happiness lays, and Misha I'm going to tell you the same. Take every chance and opportunity in life, or you will always wonder what could have been, instead of what has been."

"Thank you Gammy. I love you."

"And I love you too darling. But I'm getting tired, and the nurse will be here soon to give me my next dose of drugs.....so be a Dear and let me get some rest now." smiling she told him, "How about that, I'm seventy nine and at my time of life becoming a drug addict. I can't wait for my next shot."

But Misha's smile was forced. He looked at the woman in bed, frail and getting weaker each day, her face pinched with pain, the sparkle gone from her eyes and lent over kissing her cheek. "Next thing you'll be asking me to take you clubbing Gammy."

*

Sitting in the departure lounge at Gatwick surrounded by people milling around, either shopping in the Duty Free shops, reading the digital departure board, or sitting bored in the rows of uncomfortable chairs, Misha sat, legs sprawled out, his overhead bag at his feet, a pad of paper in his hand, writing down and making his plans.

During his week visiting he had been busy, phoning up agents to get on their lists to find an office, asking advice from his cousins on the best places to set up, Researching on Tom's computer with regards the licences, permits and such like he would need to get in place. Checking prices of other apartments in Guildford although he decided he really liked the one he had seen, and asked the young salesman to send him some information nearer the completion date.

He felt excited and as he worked on his figures he could see a future for himself, one that would be hard work, but worth it. One that would include Suzanne, in a place that would be healthier for her, away for the club scene and the drug suppliers that she had made contact with in New York, a life where she could carry on with her acting classes, feel safe and protected, where he could look after her and help her to grow into a more confident person.

Hearing his flight called he gathered up his bag, stuffing the pad and pen into it and started the walk towards the departure gate, not noticing the stares and giggles of the group of three girls in their early twenties admiring him, giving him the once over.

*

Dragging his case and bag up the stairs towards his apartment, he was on a high. The plane journey back went fast as he worked on his ideas and plans, and he couldn't wait to talk to Suzanne and see how she felt. Aware that she might be resistant he had thought about a plan and how to sell her on the idea, and he was dying to tell her and see if she would go for it.

Opening the door the first thing that hit him was the smell. Sweet and cloying mixed in with the smell of rotting food. 

Next came the sound of laughter from the bedroom.

Male laughter.

Male laughter mixed with a female voice. Soft and low, and very familiar.

A cold flush went through his body as he stood in the entrance by the door, his case forgotten. His eyes burnt as he walked slowly towards the slightly ajar bedroom door, his body suddenly feeling heavy and wooden, his arms heavy as they pushed it further open.

They lay there on his bed, Suzanne naked, her body sprawled, legs spread, the man, skinny with naked backside kneeling between her thighs, his bare back with a tattoo on his shoulder facing Misha who was standing staring at the pair from his place by the door. Glaring at them in silence he watched as Suzanne noticed him, sitting up slowly from where she lay, the smile on her mouth dropping to a petulant frown. 

"Sugar, I didn't think you were back until Friday/"

"It is Friday!"

The man turned around and then leapt off the bed, his skinny body facing Misha, his pinched face half hidden by a goatee beard, his black hair spiky and messy. "Wow man...this is not what it looks like."

Misha stood rooted to the spot, the anger rising in him, his fists starting to bunch at his sides. "Get out of here....NOW." he snarled at the man, who scampered past him and out the door, only to return a second later to bend down and grab his clothes off the floor and go back out.

Hearing the door slam behind him, Misha looked down at Suzanne, "It looks like what it is Suzanne. It smells of sex in the room, and it's not week old sex, it very, very recent. It's nearly hidden by the stink of the grass and the unwashed plates, but I can smell it."

Sitting completely up she looked at him, "So what sugar. I didn't have any money and needed some stuff. What other way was I going to pay him, he's my supplier and it was an easy way!"

It was as if she had hit him in the gut. He felt sick. "How long has this been going on Suzanne?" he asked in a studied voice, the muscles along his jaw jumping.

Getting up she walked past him to the dressing table and picked up a spliff, starting to light it. "Not long, if you had left me some more money I wouldn't have done it. It's your fault."

Stalking over and grabbing the joint out of her mouth and then grabbing her arms he shook her, "You bitch. You FUCKING bitch. I've just left seeing my dying Grandmother for the last time, and you're here getting high and screwing with some sleazy piece of shit on our bed, and you FUCKING BLAME ME!"

Pushing her backwards so that she fell onto the bed, her legs hanging down, and her hair spread around her, he stood looking down at her, "I'm going to John's for the night. I want you out of here when I come back. Take as much as you can, and I'll get the rest to where ever you lay your fucking whore's body from now on.... PISS OFF."

Storming out of the apartment, he ran downstairs and hailing a cab made his way over to John's, his mind whirling, his heart breaking, his plans falling around him like ashes.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 11



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

John handed his friend the bottle of cold beer and sat down opposite, settling down to carry on listening to Misha as he unburdened himself and his troubles.

"I just didn't know how to stop her.....all this time I thought she loved me...but she was probably using me. Just as she used that bastard I found in my bed with her."

Taking a swig from his own bottle, John asked him, "Over the past year Misha, has she ever given you reason to believe that she's done this before?"

Misha sat sprawled in the big leather chair, his bottle of beer balanced on his belly, "I'm not sure. Looking back she could have. But I'm not sure....it really hurts John...I love her, but she's like two different people. The one I love...and this person who has doesn't care about anything but getting hold of the drugs, getting drunk and now I find whoring herself out to get them."

"Misha you have to accept she's an addict. You can't stop her, she has to stop herself. It's an illness. What you've been doing over the past year is to try and treat her as if it's just a blip every so often and that she'll be able to stop, but you can't do that. The need inside her controls her."

"I thought that she was doing ok, that everything was getting better. I was wrong....so wrong."

"What are you going to do Misha?"

"I've told her to get out. I can't carry on anymore. Not after this...."

"You really expect her to be gone when you get back? Are you crazy man? She's going to be there waiting for you. She relies on you and she knows what you're like, how to manipulate you. She's an expert at it."

Taking a drink from his bottle, Misha sighed, "I'm exhausted John. You don't know the half of it. The times I've come home to find her strung out. She's lost her job. She never bothered to turn up. When she's like this she misses going to college, and isn't in any state for auditions. She gets violent, hitting out when I try to stop her, and yet sometimes she's the woman that I fell in love with. Fun to be with, sweet and sexy, intelligent and normal."

"She's an addict Misha. It's the drugs and drink that are doing this."

"I know, but I can't cope. Even though I love her, I can't cope."

"Then you're better off breaking up with her now. Get on with your life, use your energy on yourself. I know it sounds trite but you'll get over her, find someone else. Someone that you will fall in love with...a healthy love. Your love for Suzanne is not healthy Misha, it's tied up with being her carer. You need someone who will give back to you and make you feel whole, not just take. Suzanne is just a taker..."

"There were great times, it wasn't all bad..."

"I know. But the bottom line is those times weren't all the time."

Leaning forward his arms on his spread out thighs, his head bent, shoulders hunched, he asked his friend, "Can I stay here tonight?....."

"Yeah...."

"...and tomorrow will you come with to my place? If she's there I need some back up."

"Of course, goes without saying..."

*

Misha turned the key in the lock, his heart in his mouth, John standing slightly behind him. He wasn't sure what to expect, nor how he was going to handle whatever he found waiting for him in his home. If she was gone, he knew it was for the best, but he would be heartbroken, if she was still there and still high as a kite he was scared he would over react. The fact that John was there with him was reassuring. He felt like a coward, which he had never felt before, and he didn't like himself for feeling like this.

The door opened and he saw her sitting there on the couch, dressed in jeans and one of his sweatshirts swamping her small frame. Her face was bare of makeup, her eyes red from crying, legs up, arms wrapped around them, looking like a scared child.

John pushed past him and walked over to sit down at the table, whilst Misha stood, hands in his jeans pockets, watching and waiting for her to speak. After a long strained silence, broken only by the occasional sniffs from Suzanne as the tears started to flow again, she whispered in a broken voice, "I'm sorry..... please forgive me....I was scared and you went without me....I was angry that you left me by myself. I won't do it again...please don't throw me out."

Misha stood silently, his head spinning, unable to speak, the vision of her having sex with that man on his bed running through his mind.

John spoke for him, "Suzanne, you can't keep doing this to Misha. It has to end."

"I promise I won't ever do it again. Please Misha I won't.....just don't throw me out, please....I'm scared."

Shaking his head he told her, "I can't cope with you Suzanne. I need space from you. This time it was more that you getting high. You slept with someone just to get the drugs. You betrayed me."

"I know...I'm sorry..."

"Sorry isn't going to make it change...the feelings I have at the moment...it isn't going to make it change how I feel Suzanne."

"Please...I have nowhere to go....I love you...I promise...."

John stood up, and looking down at the woman sitting in front of him pleading with his best friend and told her, "Suzanne I'll take you wherever you want to go, but you can't stay here anymore. Misha needs to have you out of here.."

"Please let me stay here with you Misha. Don't throw me out." She started to sob in earnest, getting up and throwing her arms around Misha's waist, her face buried in his chest, "Please...I'll change...I promise..."

The two men looked over her head at each other, Misha's face worried and pinched, his arms around the woman crying against him, John's face a like stone, shaking is head in silent entreaty to his friend.

Pushing her from him Misha stepped back, "Pack some things Suzanne, I need to think. I need some time to think."

Walking over and guiding the crying woman by her shoulders, John led her to the bedroom to help her to get some things together, whilst Misha walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, trying not to walk into the bedroom where he could hear John talking to Suzanne as she cried and pleaded with his friend to intercede on her behalf. He looked down at his hands holding the glass of water and was surprised to find them shaking.

After a while they came out, an overnight bag in John's hand, "I'm going to take her over to a friend of hers from college."

Misha turned his back on the crying Suzanne, his whole body tense and hurting, and after a while he heard the door close. Letting out the deep breath he had been holding, his body sagged. It was over. His near year long relationship with her was over. He stood in his apartment in the silence alone, and he knew he should feel relieved, but all he felt was empty.

*

Robin stood next to him at the club, people watching, checking out the women as they stood in clusters dressed up to attract the males standing around the semi dark noisy place. It was a meat rack, men and women there for the sole purpose of picking up a partner.

"What about that one? She's got a great ass."

Misha glanced at the woman standing talking with her friends a few feet away, her curvy bottom encased in the short skirt, and then shrugged. "She's ok."

"Ok? Misha it's been almost a month. Come on man, get back into the melee. There are woman out there waiting to be plucked. You're free, get back in there and stop feeling sorry for yourself."

But he just shrugged and with a desultory look glanced around, bored and fed up, not really wanting to be there, wishing he was back at his place, doing the research and work towards starting his own business up in the UK, just as he had been doing every night since that day that he threw Suzanne out.

Finishing off his beer he looked around to the crowded bar and asked Robin if he wanted another drink. "No thanks man, I'm going to go find Joanie before some bastard hits on her and she might realise he's a better bet that me."

Squeezing his body between two other people leaning against the crowded bar Misha tried to get the attention of the barman, but each time he thought he had his eye the man went to serve one of the women who had come up after him. Sighing he stood there considering telling Robin and Joanie he was leaving when he heard a voice next to him say, "It's always the same when he's the one serving behind the bar, you won't get a chance unless one of us girls buys you a drink. So what's your poison?"

The attractive brunette next to him smiled up, her face open and cute with a turned up nose and freckles. "You're offering to buy me a drink?"

" Yes. Unless that cuts your male superior ego to the bone, and you feel that women shouldn't be quite so forward. Which in that case you can buy me the drink but I'll order and you pay. We'll get served quicker if I do it?"

Misha laughed, "No, you pay. I have no superior male ego when it comes to having drinks bought for me. Make it a cold beer. Domestic."

Pushing in front of him, the woman held up her hand and within moments she was being served. Passing the bottle back to Misha and picking up her own bottle she turned around and moving back out of the crowd asked him, "My name is Tracy, what's yours?"

"Misha. Thanks for the drink. Do you do this a lot; pick up men by buying them drinks."

"What! Get them drunk you mean, and then have my way with their intoxicated body so that they can't fight back?"

"Yeah."

"No. You're the first."

"The first to buy a drink for or the first to get drunk and take advantage of?"

"Both."

Smiling at each other they moved over to an area that was quieter and leant against a wall to talk. Misha liked her forward attitude, it was open without being overbearing. Tracy seemed confident, uncomplicated and easy to talk to, and before the night was out he found himself at an all night café sitting talking with her over a coffee. Finally the conversation came around to past romantic history.

"So I told him he was a jerk, threw his collection of computer games out the window and told him to go play with them somewhere else. What about you? Someone as good looking as you is either gay, attached or somewhere in 'Lonely Street Hotel'."

Frowning he replied, "Lonely Street. Just out of a year long relationship. About a month ago."

"I take it that you're finding it hard."

"How did you guess?"

"Been there, bought the book, saw the movie, got the tee shirt, got pissed on by the man."

Smiling at her Misha asked her, "So what are you doing Saturday night? Want to go to see the new Lord of the Rings and out for a meal after?"

"Make it the new Pirates of the Caribbean and you're on."

Exchanging numbers and making arrangements, Misha suddenly felt a little more positive and upbeat. Maybe what John had said to him only the other day when he came over, that life goes on, and he would soon heal the wounds left by her betrayal. 

That all he needed was someone to remind him how normal and nice a real woman can be.

Maybe Tracy was the one.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 12



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

Tracy walked over to the shower unit, and reaching in turned on the water, running her hand through the spray to feel the temperature. Misha glanced round just as she was removing her robe and stepping into the shower. He stood and watched her round bottom disappear behind the frosted glass of the cubicle. Turning back to the mirror to look himself in the eye he shook his head, took a deep breath, put down the spare razor she kept in her bathroom and unzipping his jeans and shucking them off, walked over to the small cubicle. 

Opening the door he stepped in wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against himself he whispered in her ear, 'Has anyone ever told you that you have a very sexy bottom.'

Smiling she looked up over her shoulder at him, "Thank God for J.Lo, it's now fashionable to have a big ass."

Laughing he told her, "Tracy, men love woman they can get hold of, your ass is perfect. Magnificent. It's beautiful, just like you."

His hand cupped her breast, his thumbnail scrapping back and forth across her nipple causing it to harden, and then he moved it slowly down her stomach to cup her between her thighs, one finger finding her small hard pearl and rubbing back and forth. In a deep whisper he told her, "You're a very beautiful woman and last night was perfect, just like your bottom."

Her back curved backwards into him as his mouth nuzzled down the side of her neck, his other hand raising up to cup her other breast and tease the nipple with his pinching finger and thumb. The hot water pounded her body as his finger rubbed faster causing the flutter in her belly to grow, the pulse between her legs starting to throb and expand, her breath to deepen, as the pleasure built until the wave of bliss peaked and exploded.

Slowly Misha turned her in his arms, kissing her mouth deeply putting his hands around her waist and lifting her up until her legs were wrapped around his hips he then entered her deep and hard.

Whispering in her ear 'That's it baby, hold on to me tight and wrap your legs around me. Squeeze me as hard as you can! Oh yessssss that's it.' and she clung to his shoulders and lost herself in the sensations building up again.

*

He lay there on her bed wrapped around her back, his nose buried into her soft hair, her beautiful lush bottom nestled against his groin, peaceful and quiet. Last night and today they had spent their time making love, enjoying each others body, getting to know each other, whispered conversations between erotic sessions, their bodies straining to reach the heights of passion.

Misha found Tracy uncomplicated and refreshing, straightforward and fun, but she wasn't Suzanne. 

As he lay there, the woman in his arms sleeping, the afternoon sun lighting up the small bedroom in her apartment, he thought about Suzanne and Tracy, comparing them, wondering why he still missed the woman who had broke his heart, why he still yearned for that someone who had caused him so much heartbreak and worry, even whilst he lay with this lovely person in his arms.

Was he a masochist for loving Suzanne with all the madness that went along with her? Did it mean he was as addicted to her, as she was to the drink and drugs that she used to numb her insecurity and problems in her life? Or was it just that he was a fool for not moving on, of letting go, that the part of his personality that was competitive would not allow him to admit he had lost, even in love.

He felt Tracy start to wake, her body slightly stretching, her legs moving out from between where they had been laying trapped between his, her arms uncurling.

Bending his head he kissed her shoulder, "Afternoon. Welcome back to the land of the living."

Turning on her back yawning she looked sideways at him, "Did I sleep long? Sorry."

"We both did. I woke up about ten minutes ago." Sweeping the hair from her forehead with his fingers he asked her, "Hungry? If we can make it past the shower this time I'll buy us a late lunch."

Stretching her arms up over her head, her generous freckle covered breasts slipping out from under the duvet, her dark brown nipples pointing upwards, the smile on her face natural and warm, "Mmm I must admit all this exercise has made me a little hungry. There's a great deli down the road...." Getting out from under the covers, she padded out to the bathroom as Misha watched her curvy bottom wiggle as she walked away from him, "and I bet all the energy you've expended since last night needs refuelling ready for the next round. I had better get you fed and rested Misha as I don't want to wear you out too quickly. "

Laying back Misha smiled up at the ceiling, deciding to just go with the flow for the moment and enjoy the uncomplicated treasure he had just found.

*

Joannie stood talking with Tracy, laughing and getting on as if they had known each other for years as Misha leant against the wall of the bar a week later, John and Robin telling him what a great find Tracy was.

"She's just great, told me that she play's squash and has challenged me to a game. She's a great find Misha. Classy lady, friendly and easy on the eye, and very bubbly."

Looking at his friend Misha said, "What you're trying to say Robin is that she's the opposite of Suzanne. Not complicated like her, loud and drunken, or over the top and difficult...."

"Well if the shoe fits...."

Stepping in as he sensed Misha's still raw emotions when it came to Suzanne bubbling up, John told them both "Drop it. Let's go over and join the women."

Walking over Misha looked at Robin, his close friend for the whole of his life. He had guessed that he and his wife had not really taken to Suzanne, but hadn't realised just how much they didn't really like her. Looking back over the past year he now could see how much he had drifted away from his best friends, keeping away from situations that Suzanne might have made a scene in, or just spending their time together alone so that she wouldn't feel uncomfortable not being the centre of his attention.

Had his relationship affected his life so much without realising it?

Had it changed how he was with others, with her, with himself?

Smiling as he put his arms around Tracy's shoulder he asked her if she was ok.

"Yeah I'm fine...Joannie and I are going shopping after work on Tuesday, and I'm playing Robin at squash next weekend. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not! Want another drink?"

"No thanks." Turning back towards the others, "have you been down to the karaoke bar called The Birdcage a couple of blocks up? It's a riot. Strong gay following there with some great diva performances each night. Fancy going over after finishing up here?"

Everyone drank up and then slipping out the door into the drizzling rain the five people hurried along aiming for the bar and an evening of laughs.

*

John stood with Robin on the small stage, belting out a bad rendition of 'Mustang Sally' with the audience cheering them on, Misha laughing at the sight of his friends totally relaxed and making complete fools of themselves. Earlier he had done the same wringing out 'Living on a Prayer', and Joannie and Tracy had done a very credible performance of 'It's raining Men' being joined on stage half way during their performance by two guys who sang with real feeling and gusto, the final second half of the song with the two woman.

He realised he was really enjoying himself as he looked around the packed area, people dancing and joining in the chorus with Robin and John, when suddenly his heart did a flip flop in his chest and he went cold all over. In front of him to his right stood a woman. Her back towards him, her blond hair hanging down her back, her body swaying to the music, a glass of vodka in her hand. Slowly he watched her; the music and the room fading, his breath catching in his throat as the woman turn around to the face the man behind her.

It wasn't her.

It wasn't Suzanne.

But for that instant he realised that she still had him tangled up in her spell and that he hadn't yet managed to get rid of the feelings he had for her. Wrapping his arms around Tracy he pulled her towards him as she stood watching the two men finish off their performance, burying his face into her hair, wishing he could just let go of the hurt and missing Suzanne, and needing to hold onto someone, anyone, as the hurt speared through him.

Turning around in his arms she laughed up into his face, not realising his desperation, but thinking his simple gesture was one of affection. Standing on her toes she kissed him, a simple kiss on the lips. But one that told him she was happy and cared.

What kind of a bastard was he, he thought to himself? 

The kind that loved one woman. 

A one woman man.

That's what kind of man he was. 

A fool. 

A complete and utter sucker. That's what kind of man he was.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 13



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novellas.

*

Picking up the pace as he ran next to John, his heart beat accelerating, and his right leg starting to ache where the break had been from his car accident when he was in his early twenties, Misha looked across the shimmering waters of the Reservoir towards the fantastic skyline of Manhattan.

He loved these early morning runs in Central Park with John. The two of them running in peace and quiet, two circuits of the large expanse of water, as the morning sun hit the calm water and sparkles of reflected light mingled with the images laying on the deep water surface. The smell of Cherry Blossom in Spring hit him as he ran, and he thought about how he would miss all of this now his plans to move to England were coming to fruition.

Christmas had been and gone, and his relationship with Tracy was easy and calm, just like the surface of the water. No flare ups, no explosions and no stress. Calm but boring.

The sex between them had settled into steady and relaxed couplings, no excitement, no heart-stopping moments. Just calm but boring sex.

He liked her company, found her funny and easy to be with, enjoyed her clever mind, but there was no spark, no burning need to be with her, or grab her, or even bury himself deep inside of her. Just and overwhelming calm and boring nothingness, and even after all this time, and all the problems that came with her, he missed Suzanne. Missed the excitement she brought with her, the hot and dirty sex, the looks she had given him that turned him on, knowing that when they were in a crowd of people and they would get home they would be making out, stripping off their clothes before even the front door was closed.

How he missed the laughter, the zany eclectic humour they shared and even the monumental arguments, followed by the making up. 

The making up always ending up in bed. If only she could of stayed clean. If only she hadn't played around. But if only's were no good. They meant nothing.

Slowing up his pace to cool down, he glanced across at John, the sweat rolling down his neck and back, and moving to a walk he asked him in a gasping voice, "Thought anymore about seeing if you can get that transfer to the London Branch?"

"Yeah, and I'm seriously getting more and more interested in doing it. You still serious about going?"

"Mmm... I've spoken to my Uncle and he's investing some money in my company as the silent partner. With the inheritance and my savings I can do it. I've got my business plan and costing's, done the research, and made contact with a number of suppliers. It's just a matter of when, not if."

"What about Robin and Joanie? Have you spoken to them about going?"

"Yeah, but Joanie's not sure. Robin say's he's game, he can do his writing from anywhere. If we both go, he'll follow."

"The three Musketeers. All for one and one for all!"

Smiling he said, "More like the Mousekateers John."

Leaning against the railings he looked out over the vast area, breathing deeply, filling his lungs with the air. "I'm thinking of breaking up with Tracy."

"Misha, you kidding! She's lovely, and you both seem so good together."

"The spark is just not there."

"What spark? What do you want? She's a sweet girl. Uncomplicated and nice. What are you looking for?"

"I don't know. I just know Tracy's not it."

"You want Suzanne don't you?.... Misha she was bad news for you.....Stop hankering over her, she's gone. It's finished. Let go and move on."

"I have moved on John. But I know Tracy is just not the one, and it would be crueler carrying on. I'm going to be gone in August if everything goes to plan. Better I finish it now than later."

Shaking his head as they started to walk back to the exit and home, John told his friend, "You were as addicted to the excitement and unpredictability of going out with Suzanne as she was to the coke and the drink."

"Maybe John, but I know I need more than I have with Tracy."

*

He felt like a complete heel as he looked at her, tears welling up in her eyes, the look on her face one of devastation. It was never easy breaking up and telling someone that you no longer wanted to go out with them, but doing this with someone that had done nothing to hurt you, who was only nice and friendly, whom he had been seeing for the past three months was very difficult, but he knew in his heart he wanted to do it.

If their relationship drifted on he would only have to go through the same scene later on before he left for England, and then it would be so much harder.

"Have I done something wrong?" her wavering voice asked.

"No sweetheart, it's not you....it's me... I'm sorry...you are a lovely person, and I really like you...but...."

"But you don't want to see me anymore...?"

Shuffling he feet, he told her the usual rubbish, trying to get it over and done with, without a scene, "Tracy...we could still be friends, I really like you as a friend, but I'm going over to England in August to live, and over the next couple of months I will be going back and forth over there, concentrating on setting everything up, so it would be unfair to you to carry this on......"

"I thought we had an understanding.... that you really cared for me....all those times at each others places..."

"I did care for you...I do care for you...but...."

"...not enough to carry on?"

"No..."

It was over. He was unattached again. Maybe that was the best thing for him, to be unattached and concentrate on planning his future. Bending down to kiss her cheek, he told her goodbye, before walking away, his stomach tight with sorrow at doing that to someone as nice as Tracy, but his head feeling lighter for being on his own once again.

*

Sitting at his laptop he was surfing on the web trying to find some furniture to buy and have delivered to the new apartment. He had done the final paperwork on buying the place, the one he had seen on his visit over last year when his grandmother was dying.. He had bought it during a week long visit to Guildford last week when he had gone to see his mother and meet up with people to get the new business set up. He was moving forward fast, getting his plans in place, his life on track, his new business set, in a new country, with a new home. 

Moving forward, it gave him a good feeling. Optimistic and excited he sat scanning sites on the laptop, planning how his new home would look.

John had the transfer to the London Branch of the Bank sorted and was following out a month afterwards, and Robin and Joanie had agreed to join in the adventure, telling him that they would go over at the same time, rent out a place in London and try it out for a trial period to see how it all pans out.

Relieved that his friends would be with him in the UK he was enjoying relaxing, feet up on the coffee table, surfing on the laptop, a Sam Cooke CD playing in the background, black coffee by his feet on the table when the phone rang. Absentmindedly reaching for the handset he murmured, "Yeah, Misha....." into the speaker, only to hear back a frantic female voice that turned his body cold.

"Misha, it's Arlene, Suzanne's friend....you remember....I used to share a place with her...it's Suzanne....you have to come over and help...she's here...she's in a bad way...can you get over here straight away?"

Clearing his throat he answered after a while, "Suzanne and I aren't together......"

"I know...I just don't know who else to turn to....I just need some help with her...please come over and help...she needs you...please."

Putting down the laptop and standing up, the handset close to his ear, his eyes closed as he stood up, feeling the heavy mantle of worry settle back onto his shoulders, he told her, "Can't you take her to the hospital?"

"Please come...please!"

"OK...I'll get a cab over...how bad is she?"

"She's been on a three day bender. Please hurry." and then the phone went dead in his ear. Grabbing his jacket and keys he left the quiet and settled atmosphere of his tiny apartment and hailing a cab in the street made his way over to the nightmare that he knew he was going to be dragged into awaiting him.

*

He stood looking down at her, Arlene and another girl standing each side of him. 

"She's been staying with us for the past couple of weeks. She turned up at the door with an overnight bag and asked if she could sleep her until she got herself sorted out, but all she's done is got her self smashed, and we need her out."

She sat slumped on the floor leaning against the wall, her hair a dirty matted mess, clothes dirty and rumpled, face showing the drink and drugs, eyes closed half conscious. Not the Suzanne he had loved, but the addict Suzanne. The past five months had not been kind to her.

Kneeling down in front of her he asked over his shoulder, "Where was she staying before here?"

"With some guy...he threw her out...I guess he couldn't cope either..."

"Where's her stuff?"

"Over there. I've packed everything in her bag. Can you take her?"

Standing back up he nodded, "OK....Call a cab...I'll take her back to my place....get me a strong cup of black coffee and a wet flannel and towel."

It had started again. He bent down and picking her up gently asked her, "Suzanne....can you hear me?...It's Misha....can you stand up?...come on sweetheart...try standing."

Arms holding her up he walked her around, talking quietly to her as he tried to get her sobered up. She looked up at him with bleary eyes, "Sugar...is that you?"

"Yes baby, it's me...come on...keep walking....I've come to get you baby....I need you to walk for me...come on."

In a slurring voice she told him, "I've missed you Misha....where have you been?....you should have been there for me....I needed you."

Handing him the coffee and wet flannel, Arlene stood back watching as the tall man gently sat the drunken woman down and with his arm around her helped her to drink the coffee, murmuring reassuring words to her, telling her everything was going to be alright. Stepping back she joined her other flatmates, the looks going between them saying how relieved that they were that Suzanne soon would stop being their problem and leave their care, into Misha's.

A problem passed onto someone else. At only twenty five, that's what Suzanne had now become. Something to be passed forward onto someone else.

Misha was the one person who really cared.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 14



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

He undressed her as she lay on his bed, her clothes were dirty and crumpled as if she hadn't changed in sometime, and there was a sour smell about her. Bruises, some purple, others fresher adorned her body which had lost so much weight since he had seen her last. Shocked, as he sat her up, and then he saw the tattoo on her lower back, a Bluebird in flight, her small sweet bottom sitting below, new it stood out against her pale skin.

She let him undress her, sitting quietly, her eyes unfocused, her head falling forward, occasionally asking him for a drink. "Sugar...." she whispered, "any chance of a little one?...." her voice slightly slurred, "I'm a little tired and need one so I can sleep."

He told her that he was going to clean her up and then she could sleep, ignoring her pleas. Checking out the inside of her arms and behind her knees for any sign of needle marks, he was relieved to see none. "Suzy...what have you taken...what have you done to yourself....?" he asked her.

Shaking her head she replied, "Nothing....I've taken nothing Misha....you left me...you left me with nowhere to go."

"I'm sorry sweetheart....." his heart broke at her mournful statement, the guilt flooding through him, "I'm so sorry.....here Suzy...can you stand up?" Helping her up from the bed he guided her over to the bathroom and into the shower. She stood dutifully like a child whilst he washed her, cleaning her hair, her body, removing the sour smell, the dirt and all the while talking to her to reassure her.

Placing her in his bed, a towel wrapped around her hair, he then went into the kitchen, to warm up a bowl of soup in the microwave and pour out a large glass of orange juice. Feeding her the soup as she lay back against the pillows he asked her where she had been living since last year.

"Here and there.....with friends...."

"Where is all your stuff....?"

She started crying and he put down the soup and held her to him, "Shhh....its going to be all right...everything is going to be alright...."

"Please don't leave me Misha...I'm scared."

"I won't leave you Suzy..."

"Promise me....."

"I promise." and as he said it he knew it was true. He couldn't leave her to her own devices; she was his to look after. All the problems that came with her, he would be the one to make sure she was alright, to protect her, to keep her safe, and he knew he would always have to be the one to deal with them from now on. "I promise baby....your safe now."

Laying down he held her to him, her small body protected by his strong arms, her head resting trustingly against his chest, her arms holding onto him, as if he was her only and last hope in life.

*

John told him he was mad, "She's bad news Misha. She'll only bring you problems."

"In the UK she'll be away from her contacts and suppliers, and I can keep her sober. It will be a new start for both of us."

"You're going to need to put all your energy into starting your business, getting it set up and gaining customers; she'll divert your concentration. You know she needs to always be the centre of attention."

Misha gave a long serious look at his friend, "I can't leave her....she needs me."

Shaking his head, John told him, "If I can't convince you to not take her, then I'll be there for you....if ever you need me for anything, let me know....'cause as sure as night follows day you're going to need it...help with her that is."

"Thanks John."

*

They settled back into living together, during the day he went to work, leaving her in the apartment. She told him she no longer went to college, but that she was trying to get a role through an agent. He prayed it was true. 

In the evening he would return, hoping that he would find her sober. Each night she would be there, the smell of food cooking to greet him, her smiling face raised up to kiss him, her laughing voice telling him about her day, and he would watch her, looking for any sign that she was slipping.

He told her about his plans and she listened, asking questions. He asked her to come with him, to move across the Atlantic to another country, another life. Slowly she came around to the idea as he painted a picture of a new beginning for her, the many opportunities in London with all the Theatres and TV work she would be able to try out for.

Late at night they would make love, his body joined to hers, his hands and mouth caressing her, her own mouth sucking, licking and biting those places on his body that drove him wild. He lay as she rocked above him, her body sucking at his cock. Tight, hot, and wet, it pulled at him, her small breasts jiggling as she moved, her head thrown back, blond hair streaming down her back, his hands holding the two round globes of her bottom as it moved rhythmically, feeling the muscles in her buttocks clench and move as she chased her orgasm above him.

Body hot and singing, he felt alive. 

She made him feel alive. 

Unable to explain it, he just accepted that this woman, with all her attendant craziness could with just a touch, a small look, a whispered caress; cause him to soar with pleasure like no other.

Laying still and sated later, he held her to him as she slept, planning and thinking about the future. Dreaming and praying that everything would go to plan, and that the move to England would really be a new beginning for both of them, a fresh start.

*

Suzanne bent over the crate, packing it with possessions, her hair tied back in a ponytail, her ass in the tight jeans wiggling up at him, "Pass me the rest of the DVD's, I'm going to put them in with the books and your trophy's."

Misha walked up, his hand running over the round and moving rump poking up at him, "Britain has s different electrical system than us, and their DVD players are on a different region. When we're over there I'll buy us a multi region player, or we'll be fucked on buying new DVD's in the future."

Standing up and looking at him she asked, "What else do they have that's really different?"

"Well....."he smiled, "They drive on the wrong side of the road....and they have a really cool television channel that doesn't have any adverts during the shows."

"No ad's?"

"None. It's called the BBC and you get to see everything, films, sport, everything complete without any breaks."

Turning back to the crate she said, "Crazy."

"You'll love the West End in Central London, it's full of theatre's and fringe show's, plenty of opportunities for you. Easy to get to from Guildford, where we'll be living."

"How about clubs? Nightlife."

Placing his arms around her and pulling her back towards him, he told her, "Yeah there's nightlife sweetheart, but I intend keeping you fully occupied in bed as our nightlife."

Laughing she lent back against him, "Intending to do the horizontal Tango are you every night?"

"Mmm....and up against the wall sometimes, or whilst sitting on the chair......or with you bent over the table....or in the bath...."

"I see you have it all planned out. Are you sure you have the energy to match your plans?"

Turning her around he leant down and kissed her. "I can never get enough of you Suzy...you drive me wild, and you know it."

He heard her throaty laugh as he felt her hands start to undo his flies "Is that so sugar....well I had better test that out right now."

Her head moved down, and then he felt the wet warmth as she took his manhood deep into her mouth, and all coherent thought left him as she worked him, her clever tongue swirling round his hard shaft, pulling him into that powerful vortex of pleasure.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 15



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

            *

He glanced across at her as she stared out the car window at the passing scenery, the look on her face curious. "Misha, this is really weird, driving on the wrong side of the road! I feel like we're going to crash at any moment."

"You'll get used to it."

The scenery changed as they left the Motorway, into the town of Guildford and as Misha manoeuvred the hire car across the town to the offices where they were going to pick up the keys to his their new home, Suzanne watched the people walking, going about their business in the Surrey town.

"This is Guildford Suzy, our place is over the other side of the town, slightly out of the centre, near the river."

"It looks so different...so provincial...so....I don't know....so English."

Laughing Misha told her, "Yeah...it is kind of middle England....wait until the weekend...we'll go up to London and you'll love that. It's fast and has a real pulse like New York....there is so much to see...and do...you'll love it. We can catch a show if you like...or go clubbing."

Settling back into the car seat, she replied, "Whatever...."

Pulling into a parking space near a row of shops in a side street, he looked across at her, "I know it seems a real contrast and upheaval, but give it a chance Suzy....This is our chance to make a real go of it....a new beginning...new home, new business, new life.....the opportunities are endless.....and we can have real fun exploring and working together to build that new life."

Getting out the car and walking over to the office to pick up the keys and paperwork, Suzanne held onto Misha's arm as if he was her life line, "Is there somewhere we can get something to eat and drink Misha before we go to the apartment.....I'm starving, the food on the plane was crap."

Looking around he noticed a small café. "Yeah, over there...we'll grab something first and then go to our new home. We'll need to get in some supplies to take with us. Do you want to stop off and get them on the way or later?"

"On the way..."

The man in the office sat them down and Misha signed the relevant paperwork, showing his identification.

"Here are the keys Mr Rubin, all the utilities have been turned on as per your instructions and here is the signed receipts for the furniture deliveries we took on your behalf last week. The bed and couches arrived and are placed in the flat.....I hope everything is as agreed. Please contact me if you have any problems...here is my card."

"Thanks.... "

Later in the café as they waited for the food to be served, Suzy whispered to Misha, "They all talk funny..."

"It's called an English accent Suzy....they think our accents are different.....we're the odd ones here."

Handing her some money he told her, "Here is some cash....you'll need it for various things...if you need more let me know."

Suzanne looked at it, "It's so odd. What is this one?"

"It's a twenty pound note....that's a ten....that's a five. The gold coins are one pound....you'll soon get used to them.....think roughly two of these to one dollar exchange rate."

"What is this strange looking one? It's a funny shape....?"

"Twenty pence,,,,,five of them make a pound..."

"Oh God, it's all so weird, the accent, the money, driving on the wrong side of the road.....even place smells different."

"It's called fresh air....we're in the middle of the countryside, Guildford is the biggest city in this area, but its still fairly small."

"Your kidding...this is a major city....Misha you're kidding!"

"No....London is an hour's drive up the A3, and the next nearest large towns are Dorking and Woking. But Guildford is the major one in this area."

"Why did I ever let you talk me into coming over with you.....I'm missing New York already."

As the waitress placed their food down in front of them, Misha told her, "Give it a chance Suzanne. I know it's a big change, but give it a chance." But he was worried. Deep down he knew that although this was his dream, it wasn't hers, and she was already looking like a fish out of water in this typical British town.

*

Laying on the big double bed, the only piece of furniture in the big bedroom, his arms behind his head, he watched her rummaging amongst the clothes from the cases at her feet. The rest of their stuff that was being shipped across was due to be delivered over the next couple of days, and the large apartment was bare apart from the bed and the big leather couch he had ordered over the internet and had delivered prior to them arriving.

"Do you like the place.....is it as I described?"

"Yeah...it's definitely bigger than your place in New York."

"Well you've got Carte Blanch to decorate it as you want....should be fun..." patting the bed he told her, "Come over here Suzy....lets christen the bed and make out!"

Giving him a long look she huffed, "I'm tired Misha....we've just travelled for eight hours on a plane, driven from the airport for a couple of hours to get here, messed around buying groceries and my body is telling me it's the middle of the night. The only christening of the bed I'm going to do is to make it up and get some sleep." Holding up a couple of sheets she walked over to the bed and told him, "Get off...NOW."

Rolling up off the bed, he grabbed the end of the sheet helping her to make up the bed, "I love it when you talk domineering to me like that."

"Shut up Misha and just make the bed."

As she leant over to tuck in the top end of the sheet he reached across, grabbing her and pulling her over onto her back, climbing up over her, his knees each side of her body, clamping her arms to her sides. Leaning down he tried to kiss her, but she moved her head to the side, "Stop it Misha, I'm tired....let me up."

"Not until you give me a kiss."

"Piss off...."

"Come on sweetheart, just one little kiss....."

"NO."

Sitting up, he felt hurt...."Ok...if that's the way you want it...." Getting up he released her and walked into the bathroom. Turning on the shower he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the hot water spraying down on him. A few minutes later he felt her hand on his back.

"Misha...I'm sorry sugar....it's just that I'm tired and scared....it's all a bit overwhelming....."

Turning around he pulled her into the water, clothes and all, "I know baby....its going to be all right...I promise." and kissing her, the water soaking them he started to remove her clothes, "I love you...."

"I love you too sugar."

They made love on the bedroom carpet, realising that they had packed the towels in the stuff coming over in a couple of days, and not wanting to soak the bed and the only sheets they had with them. Their bodies rolling around, their hands and mouths rubbing and kissing each other, breasts, base of spine, backs of thighs, curve of neck, bellies and inside of thighs. Sighs and moans resounded around the barren room, curtain less windows let in the evening light from the waning moon, and the rough blond coloured carpet below them rubbed against sensitive skin as they moved.

Misha licked the moisture from her face and body from the shower, and Suzanne bit down hard on his tight small nipples causing him to jerk as the small pain radiated down to his already engorged prick, causing it to swell even further. 

Watching as she turned her body around, presenting her small bottom to him, he knelt up on his knees and entered her doggy style, feeling the hot deep warmth of her tight vagina suck him down into her. Holding her waist with his two large hands and moving slightly back, he then pulled her towards him as he thrust back into her, hard and powerfully. Listening to her grunt as he bottomed out, hitting her cervix, he repeated the process, gathering up speed, moving in and out, his hips grinding and rolling as he moved, the erotic picture of her on all fours joined to him and the sucking and tight feel of her surrounding his cock pulled at him. He felt himself rising up to the powerful release as his balls, tingling and hot tightened up, all coherent thought leaving him as he exploded into her, panting and gasping with the effort and the pleasure.

Feeling her vibrate with her own orgasm around him, he knelt behind her, stroking her back listening to her own gasping release, and eventually he moved back releasing her as she rolled over onto her back on the floor, her body sprawled out on the floor before him, her small pointed breasts pointing up at him, her body glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. 

Grabbing her hand he pulled her up, and they climbed into the bed, falling asleep within minutes, jet lag and sexual release claiming them and dragging them down into a dreamless sleep.

*

Days later they stood in the main room, discussing where to put the prints they had bought today in the town shopping mall. Suzanne had found the main shopping area and felt better, finding that she recognised so many outlets and shops from back home, as well as small individual boutique shops that she loved to rummage around in.

Last night they had spent time with his British family, and she had clung to him, just as she had at the family BBQ that time in California. But this time it was not so boisterous, with a buffet dinner in his mother's new home. His family here in the UK quiet and more reserved that his massive noisy family back home in LA. His cousin Amanda, the same age as Suzanne had invited her to go out tomorrow shopping in London, and Suzanne had jumped at the chance, as Misha was going to meet up with possible suppliers for his new business venture and would not be able to be with her.

"I'll take you to Knightsbridge Suzanne; there are two of our most famous stores, Harrods and Harvey Nichols there, you'll love them." Amanda told her.

Misha groaned along with the men around them. "Suzy, don't buy anything in those two stores for Gods sake....what ever you find we can get it cheaper elsewhere. Don't forget we have a budget."

Giving him a look, Suzanne told him, "I won't forget Misha, but if I see something I'll phone you....by the way will my mobile work here?"

A discussion started up about the best way to get a new mobile so that the costs would be kept down, and Misha relaxed as he watched Suzanne start to shine, subtly flirting with his male cousins and finding herself the centre of attention.

It was a place she always wanted to be, and he knew she loved. The centre of everyone's attention, and the way she kept hold of her fragile ego.

Mentally crossing his fingers he hoped it was all going to work out.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 16



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

          *

Parking the hire car in SoHo, he climbed out, slamming the door and locking it, then walked through the streets to where he had arranged to meet up with Suzanne and Amanda after their day in London shopping. He had spent his day meeting up with people whom he needed to work with to get the new business up and running, and it had been a successful day, with deals done, new contacts made and a lot more information gathered. Pleased with the way it was all panning out he walked up Old Compton Street to the restaurant his cousin had told him that they would meet at.

The area was buzzing, with people out for the evening, and workers either making for the bars in the area or wending their way across to Charing Cross Road and the two Underground train stations at each end, Leicester Square and Tottenham Court Road, and the start of the crowded journeys home.

Opening the door into the large noisy restaurant he looked around for the two women spotting them at the end of the bar to the side of the room laughing and talking with a couple of men. Moving across the area, weaving his way between crowded tables, he watched as Suzanne laughed out loud her body leaning provocatively into the man next to her, her blond hair falling like a golden stream down her back.

Reaching the four people, Misha bent down and kissed her cheek from behind, "Hi sweetheart, sorry I'm late, the last meeting took a little longer than I thought." Looking up at him over her shoulder, she drawled in an exaggerated Southern voice, "Sugar, you're here. Let me introduce you to our new friends, Benjamin and....what did you say your name was sugar?" she slurred asking the man she was leaning against his name.

"Richard....."

"Yeah, Richard." Turning back to Misha who stood looking down at her, a glass of vodka in her hand, she told him, "They have gallantly been looking after Amanda and me whilst we waited for you......" turning back to the man standing, his hand resting on the base of her back, his face looking up at Misha with curiosity, "They have been showing me some of that great English hospitality.....isn't that right Richard...."

Holding out his hand towards Misha, he agreed, "We've been keeping the girls company whilst they waited for you....Suzanne and Amanda are great company...I just love her crazy American accent....you American too?" Misha murmured agreement, whilst reaching forward for Suzanne's half drunken glass of Vodka, only to have it snatched from his hand by her, "Get your own sugar, this is mine....."

"What's your poison?" the man asked Misha, reaching into his pocket for some money, "....another one girls?"

"Why don't mind if I do...." and knocking back the rest of her drink Suzanne gave a big smile to Misha before telling the man next to her, "same again, double vodka, easy on the ice."

Misha looked from Amanda to Suzanne and then to the two men, the knot in his stomach tightening, and nodding he told the man, "Beer, cold." Waving the money in the air the man shouted at the barman, "Hey, over here....." 

*

The two girls giggled as they walked haphazardly down the narrow street towards where Misha guided them, propping each other up, sharing some unknown joke that only they understood. Turning around towards him where he walked behind, Suzanne shouted, "I love London....lets stay up here all night....lets not go home yet.....lets party."

Misha grabbed her and turned her around, facing back towards where he had parked the car. They had stayed at the bar-restaurant for the last three hours, with the two girls getting more and more drunk, picking up a collection of people who had joined them that Richard and Benjamin knew, until a small impromptu welcoming party to England had erupted with much laughter and the drinks flowing all around, and Suzanne who was in her element putting on a loud boisterous show of flirting and holding court.

Misha had nursed a couple of beers all night, keeping the drinking down, knowing he had to drive the two inebriated woman back to Guildford, and watching as Suzanne knocked back vodka after vodka, her inhibitions falling with the intake of alcohol. Finally they reached the hire car and after a while he managed to get them bundled into the back of the car before getting in himself and driving them out of London and heading for the long hours drive back home. He listened to Suzanne and Amanda singing in the back, their voices slurring, the words and tune to each song running into each other, punctuated by laughter and giggles.

"Come on Misha, join in you old fart." his cousin Amanda told him as he put his foot down on the gas, trying to get home as quickly as he could.

"He's going to tell me off when we get back." Suzanne told Amanda.

"Nooo....you're not going to do that are you, you old fart?"

"Yes he is...and he's going to be very, very, very angry with me for days....aren't you sugar?"

Driving the car he just stared out the windscreen into the darkness, trying to suppress his anger and his disappointment. It was his own fault. He hadn't told his family about Suzanne's problems with alcohol or drugs, wanting to keep them private, but maybe he should have. 

"You're an old fart.....a big old fart...."

Biting his lip he drove on into the night, speeding along, listening to them laughing and telling him he was boring.

And maybe he was. 

Boring. 

But he was now experienced at recognising the cycle and spiral that Suzanne was capable of being sucked into and this was only the beginning. The binge cycle would include slurring of her speech, clumsiness and unsteadiness so that she ended up hurting herself, bruises appearing on her body where she fell down. She would have black outs and passing out unable to remember where she had been and who with. The drinking changed her personality, making her hit out at him, throw things and verbally abuse him, and as cycle went on extending itself each time, it would take him longer before he could get her to sober up, and then she would promise not to take anything or drink anything again, the deep depression would set in, the high of the drugs leaving her, plunging her down into the depths of a black well.

Then the blame would start, telling him it was all his fault, that if he loved her more, paid more attention to her, didn't stress her out, she wouldn't need to use the drink or drugs to get through the day.

Finally the hyper sexual Suzanne would appear as she tried to use her body to apologise and keep him tied to her.

But he knew it was an illness, that she used the stuff to anesthetise herself when she was low or scared, and now she was drunk in the back of the car, and his own need to focus on setting up the new life for them that he wanted to build was more and more imperative, and he didn't need to be diverted away to give all his attention to her needy ego. 

*

The apartment was starting to feel more like home now their stuff had arrived from the States, along with the various items that they had bought. Everything was going to plan with setting up the new company and getting it all together, but Misha was getting exhausted. Suzanne was almost never home, out partying with his cousin Amanda and her friends, coming home late at night and high as a kite.

Lately he had noticed a furtiveness about her, as if she was hiding something, and although when they were together she was all over him, he didn't trust her anymore.

In bed things were as hot as ever. She could always drive him wild with just a touch, just a look; her ability to turn him inside out was as strong as ever. Last night she had knelt between his open thighs as he had sat at the dining table, papers spread out in front of him as he worked on a proposal for his first prospective customer. Unzipping his flies she had leant forward telling him he needed to relax more, and that she knew just the way to help him to do so. Her mouth when it had encompassed his semi hard shaft was the perfect wet and warm blanket, and growing hard as she licked and sucked at his prick he leant back, eyes closed and work forgotten, giving himself up to the sensual touch of her mouth. 

The tip of her tongue swirled around the crown, dipping into the small hole at the end, causing a shiver to vibrate down his spine, then moved down, licking back and forth up and down his hard member, along the swollen vein running the length him. Holding the base of his prick with her thumb and fingers she wanked him as her mouth moved up and down, sucking him in, the rounded throbbing point of him moving into the start of her throat.

Gasping as he felt her other hand cupping his balls, his own hands gripped the edge of the table in front of him, his face closed up in concentration, his body hovering on the edge of release. Faster and faster she moved, harder and harder she sucked and pulled at him, until he felt the spunk rise and spurt into her hot warm mouth and felt her drink him down.

The wave of peace settled over him until he heard her whisper, "There now sugar....you can go back to your boring work now more relaxed." and he felt her place him back behind the material of his jeans, zipping his now flaccid and spent prick away.

Watching her rise up from under the table and from between his spread thighs he saw her smile at him before announcing, "I'll be back later. Amanda and I are going out into town." Kissing him on his lips, he could taste the salty aftertaste of his sperm in her mouth, and then she told him not to wait up, and she was gone, leaving him sitting there, papers spread out, alone, the quiet apartment echoing with her absence.

*

It had been two months since they had arrived in England and Misha ran up the stairs excited. He couldn't wait to tell Suzanne about the good news. He had signed up his first client. His business was off and running. All he had to do was get together the final crew out of the people he had been meeting up with, and hire the equipment.

Getting out his key he opened the door calling out her name and throwing down the laptop case onto the side table as he strode through the apartment.

"Suzanne!......Suzy.....great news. Hey where are you baby?"

Walking into the bedroom he found her, laying on the floor, passed out, the vomit laying next to her head on the carpet, her face and hair showing traces of it, sticky and caked up. 

"Oh God what have you done?" he bent down, checking to see if she was still alive.

Groaning she rolled from her side onto her back, her eyes closed, her face a mottled red and white.

Looking around he noticed the hypodermic and the paraphernalia for injecting the deadly drugs. Sitting back on his heels he hung his head, numb with shock and grief.

Whispering to the passed out woman in front of him he asked her, "Suzanne.....how can you do this to yourself.....numbing your feelings like this? You could have it all....why?"

But she just lay there and slowly he raised himself up, picking her up in his arms and laying her on the bed.

Picking up the phone he dialled for the ambulance and then sat there holding her hand, just staring at the one person he wished he could help, but helpless to do so.



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 17



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love,, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

The Doctor stood in front of him, his nasal voice spelling out the cold hard facts to Misha. She had been using heroin for possibly a couple of months or so. Injecting it to alleviate the pits of depression that comes with heavy cocaine usage. Each time she took the coke the hit was no longer strong enough or giving her the high she needed, so she had, when she was in her binge mode, taken more and more. The downside would then plunge her into the black pits. 

To stop the pain she had started on the heroin.

Misha stood there stunned. He knew about the coke. He'd always known about the coke. He would find it stashed, hidden around the apartment. But the rest. It was a kick in the gut. She had hidden it from him.

"What do we do?"

The Doctor folded his arms, looking up at the tall American man standing in front of him, the look of complete shock registering on his face. "We can get her into a residential drug and alcohol treatment centre. There's an excellent one in the heart of the Kent countryside. It offers a twelve step treatment including Cognitive Behavioural Therapy to deal with the addiction as well as psychological and psychiatric care to deal with the underlying reasons for the addiction."

"How quickly can we get her in there?"

"It's not as simple as that....it isn't compulsory. The patient has to want to go to rehab, and the places are limited."

Misha looked down at his feet. "And you don't think Suzanne will want to go?"

Shaking his head the older man told him, "Over the next few days I'll have a consultation with Suzanne, approaching her with the idea and we'll work towards her accepting that she needs to go to rehab.....but at the end of the day the decision will be hers.....I'm sorry."

Misha nodded, and thanked the Doctor before turning around and going into the room where she lay and sitting down next to her bed. Looking down at Suzanne as she lay there in the bed, her blond hair usually so thick and luxurious, but now lying dank and limp around her face, dark circles under her closed eyes, the drip attached to her arm laying limp next to her on the bed,. It was then he started to retreat even more from her emotionally.

Where was the vibrant and exciting woman he had fallen in love with just two short years ago? What had happened to her in her head that she should abuse herself so much? Be so scared that she anesthetised herself with the drugs and drink?

He sat there slumped next to her in the chair, his excitement at getting his new client wiped out by actions of the woman in the hospital bed.

*

Suzanne stormed across the room, the hospital gown swamping her small frame, "Fuck the doctors, and fuck you Misha. I'm not going to any nuthouse...."

"It's not a nuthouse; it's a rehab centre...."

"Fuck off. I don't need to go to rehab....I can give it up anytime I want.....I've done it before, I can do it again.....you know I have....I don't need help."

"Suzy....." he began, trying to calm her down, arms outstretched, palms open towards her, "Just consider it. In the past you've stopped the drinking and taking the coke but this is different......."

"It's not....I can fucking stop when ever I want......just take me home Misha and I promise you I'll stop....."

"Suzy just consider it......"

"Fuck off Misha......"

He looked at her, her eyes wild, her breathing heavy and agitated and stepped forward towards her inviting her into his open arms. She stepped into them as he closed them around her, "Ok sweetheart....I'll take you home.....we will beat this together....I promise." But in his mind he was hoping to talk her into going to rehab. 

He knew it was her only chance.

*

Speaking on the phone to set up the collection of the equipment that was needed to start the filming for his new client, he thanked the man at the other end, and told him that his men would be there tomorrow with the van. Misha put the phone down and walked into the otter office, at the moment just a bare room of the premises he was renting in London for his new business and sat on the floor with the two men leaning over the papers spread out in front of them.

"We collect the stuff tomorrow; I've hired a van for you to pick it all up first thing. Ok?"

Bill nodded, "No problem boss......looking at the layout of premises of Schunke and Sons, should be best to lay the cables for the filming here and set up the lighting here."

Misha agreed. He was pleased with his choice of staff he had hired. Bill and Martin were like him, young and enthusiastic, eager to make the new company a success. Both men had experience but wanted to help build something from the ground up, and he liked them and respected their knowledge.

It had been a couple of weeks since he had brought Suzanne home from the hospital, and dealing with both her and her problems, and trying to get everything set up for this new and important first client had exhausted him. He was glad he had been able to offset some of the planning and work onto the two men's shoulders, but he knew things were coming to a head with Suzanne, and each night he dreaded returning to his home in Guildford, worried with what he would find.

Suzanne was now on a Heroin replacement to try and wean her off the stuff, and the Doctor had tried to talk her into rehab, but she refused to go. Misha knew that unless she got help with her deep psychological problems she would always need to use either drink or drugs to fill the void inside her. Getting up off the floor of the bare office smiling he told the two men, "As soon as we get the payment from this job I'll buy you your desks for in here."

"No sweat boss....better to use the money on our own equipment...next job the profit will be bigger if we don't have to hire the equipment but use our own......desks can wait."

Misha nodded and patted Bills shoulder, "Thanks guys. I'm going home....see you here tomorrow morning."

*

He found her, like he had each night when he returned, slumped in front of the television, the bottle of vodka in front of her on the table, her eyes glazed, her body hunched up and shaking.

Bending over and kissing her he could smell the sour smell of someone unwashed.

"Hi sweetheart.....are you hungry?"

She didn't answer him, or even turn her face towards him to acknowledge his presence. Trying to ignore her pointed rudeness he walked over towards the kitchen telling her he was going to make something to eat for them. The only noise was from the television blaring out and his own pounding headache starting to form behind his eyes.

Later placing the bowl of pasta in front of her on the coffee table and sitting down on the chair beside her he watched as she sat there hugging herself and rocking. "Suzy, eat some food."

Snarling at him she kicked over the table, "FUCK OFF YOU BIG LUMP OF SHIT." Before storming into the bedroom and slamming the door. Bending down to clear up the mess of the food, now spread over the carpet and across the front of the TV he could hear her slamming things around in the bedroom. Drawers opening and then closing, the noise of things hitting the wall.

Getting up off his knees and walking towards the closed door he listened to the whirlwind inside the room before hesitantly opening the door, only to narrowly miss being hit on the head by a flying shoe. "I HATE YOU.......I HATE YOU....I HATE IT HERE...I WANT TO GO BACK HOME."

Misha felt numb. Walking over to pick up his overnight bag amongst the mess, he grabbed some clothes and stuffing them in the bag, told her, "You hate me so much Suzy, I'll stay at a Hotel tonight...tomorrow I've got the start of the shoot for a couple of days and I'll stay there up in Oxford. Decide what you want to do, because I can't do that for you." Walking over to her he told her, "I love you and want you well.....if you want me to I'll be there for you....but if you hate me as you say....well then maybe I'm the problem." 

Leaning down he kissed her lightly on her forehead, "I'll be home in three days....let me know what you want to do then." and then he turned around and left, leaving her standing amongst the mess strewn across the room.

Driving across Guildford and up the A3 he felt relief. He knew he was running away, trying to escape the pressure and that it was wrong, but the release was so strong he just sped along in the car leaving the mess and Suzy behind him.

*

John listened to him as he poured his heart out on the phone that night. "So where are you actually staying Misha?"

"At a Motorway Hotel on the M40 so I can leave early to drive up to Oxford and the shoot, I just couldn't take anymore. I needed a break from her. I know it was a coward's way out, but I just need a breather."

"No you're not a coward Misha, just human. Stop beating yourself up. When you go back you'll be that less stressed and able to deal with her. Maybe while you're gone she'll decide to go to that rehab unit."

"God I hope she does John.....or I just don't think I can go on with her like this."

Putting the phone down he lay back on the bed, arm over his head, staring at the ceiling above him, the words she screamed at him as he left the apartment echoing around in his head.

"I HATE YOU AND WISH YOU WERE DEAD." 



Taking the Risk: Misha's Story Ch. 18



For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.

His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story. 

To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.

*

He knew she was gone the moment he walked into the apartment; he could feel it in his soul. The space echoed around him with emptiness. 

Standing there, his bag dropping to the ground at his feet he felt nothing but relief at first. The realisation that all the problems of living with someone who was an unpredictable junkie and alcoholic would no longer rest on his shoulders washed over him. Stepping further into the room he looked around and noticed the note sitting there on the coffee table, and bending over to retrieve it he opened it, noticing his hands were trembling slightly. 

The terse words stood out starkly in her shaky scrawled scribble.

'I've gone back to New York. I used your credit card. Don't try and find me.'

Turning the envelope over his card fell out into his palm. He hadn't even noticed that one was missing. How much money had she taken from him? Sinking down onto the couch, he sat there, her final kick in his stomach sinking in. Leaning back he just sat there as the gloom descended into dark, too tired to move, too exhausted to think, too drained to feel.

*

Misha woke the next morning to the ringing of the phone. Struggling up to sitting from where he had fallen asleep on the couch sometime during the night, he stretched, his body aching, his head pounding, and looked across the room to the ringing instrument. Walking slowly towards it, rolling his shoulder where it hurt, he reached out and picked up the offending handset.

"Yeah...."

"How'd it go?"

"John....?"

"Hi...just phoning to find out how the job went? Everything go ok....want to meet up tonight to go out and celebrate?"

Misha stood there leaning against the wall rubbing his face with his free hand, the voice of his friend in his right ear bringing him back to reality.

"She's gone....."

A small silence from the other end of the phone and then John quietly asked, "Suzanne?...."

"Yeah gone....she left whilst I was away filming....back to New York."

"Want to meet up tonight?"

"Yeah...."

Putting down the phone and walking into his bedroom he stopped at the door, the pain starting in his heart as he saw the open wardrobe, gaps where her clothes used to be. Drawers were open and the top of the dressing table, usually covered in her mess of makeup and bottles of perfume was now empty. The simple proof of his loss started the tears to fall, and he sunk down on the edge of the bed and cried.

Cried for himself, cried for her and for what he wished for and planned for that would never be.

*

John put down the beer in front of Misha in the bar, the noise swirling around them. "You're better off Misha without her. She's on a downward spiral. One you can't afford to go down with her.....you know that don't you?"

Picking up the glass and taking a long drink of the cold golden liquid he replied, "I failed her John.....I love her and I couldn't help her."

"Misha no one could help her...she didn't want it. She's addicted to the stuff and that is more powerful than anything you can offer her. Stop beating yourself up about it."

"I don't know where the Suzanne I first knew went....the lovely, funny sexy Suzanne....she disappeared to be replaced by this person I hardly recognised. I tried to help her but I couldn't seem to make her see she was worth much more than she thought."

"It was the addiction Misha. The drugs, the drink. Stop blaming yourself."

Shaking his head he looked at his friend sitting opposite him in the noisy bar. "I'll never feel for anyone what I felt for her. She made me feel alive, made me feel as if my body was on a natural high just being with her....the highs were so high, the lows so low....she just had to look at me and I would burn up with need....no woman has ever made me feel like that....and never will."

"Yes they will...you'll meet the right one Misha...and when you do you'll know...the right one will make you want to look after her, make you happy, make you feel complete...Suzanne wasn't the one....she was an addiction for you...just like the drugs and drink was for her....but the relationship was not healthy. When you meet the right one Misha you'll know."

"Will I John? Or will I always be looking for Suzanne in every woman I meet?" Picking up his glass he drained it and stood up, "Want another?" and walking over to the bar his hand dipping into the pocket of his jeans to pull out some cash he ordered two more beers.

*

Four weeks later he woke up his head pounding with another hangover, and turned over in the strange bed to find some woman next to him. One he couldn't remember picking up. Again.

Her short blond hair was mussed up around her face, mascara smudged around her closed eyes, her naked body curled up next to him. This was the third time in as many weeks he had woken up next to someone he couldn't remember their name, let alone what they had done.

Staring up at the ceiling he tried to remember.

He remembered leaving the office, going to celebrate the winning of another customer with the guys. He remembered going from one club to another and dancing in a crowd, the music pounding out, the smell of sweat, and the taste of beer on his tongue. There was lots of woman and laughter, the swirl of movement, lots more drinking and then the occasional wisp of a memory of sex.

Of breasts, of the taste of sex, of losing himself in the tension as it built and the relief as he came. But the woman next to him....he couldn't remember her.

Suddenly he heard the door open and another woman walked into the room, her naked body moving towards the bed, her heavy breasts swaying as she walked towards him. 

"You're awake. Good." She told him.

Climbing on top of him, her thighs each side of his hips, her hands stroking his chest. "Let's carry on where we left off last night." She laughed as her mouth bent down biting at one of his nipples, causing him to gasp as her small teeth bit hard at the small tight and hard tip. He glanced sideways towards the person lying beside him on the bed, but the naked woman next to him carried on lying asleep oblivious to the other woman draped over him. 

"What about her?" he managed to grate out as she used her nails to scratch his skin stretched over his pectoral muscles, his body jerking with the small pain.

"Forget her. If she wakes up she can join in."

Giving himself up to the erotic feel of her as she bit and licked at his body he closed his eyes and absorbed the feelings as they flooded his mind, the sexual tension tightening in his groin as the stranger on top of him brought him higher towards mindless release.

*

Robin and John guided the drunken Misha out of his apartment to the car.

"Come on Misha, just a couple more steps, that's my boy, bend down." Pushing him across the back seat of the car, they tucked his legs up and shut the door. "Put the newspaper under his head....I don't want my back seat ruined if he throws up!"

Robin grunted, leaning back from his place in the passenger seat and placed the newspaper under the very drunk Misha's head.

They were headed up to the Lake District, five hours drive away where they had rented a house on Windermere Lake for a week, ostensibly to get their friend sobered up and thinking straight.

For the last month they had watched as he tried to get over Suzanne by partying, drinking and mindless sex with strangers. Taking him up to where there would be no distraction the two friends wanted to help Misha to straighten out and help him to cope with the loss of Suzanne. Today they had arrived at his apartment only to find him already drunk, the place a mess. So unlike his normal self.

Looking back at the tall man laying cramped on the seat behind him Robin asked John, "you think this is going to work?"

"Yeah....he's just mourning the loss of a dream....a week away from it all, talking it through with us, the peace and quiet of walking in the hills and some good food and he'll be back to normal."

Listening to Misha groan as the car sped up around the M25 towards the M1 and the north of England, Robin settled back, "He always was the one of us that felt things too deeply."

"She had him by the balls....but he couldn't see it....this week away we'll give them back to him...."

The two men heard him throw up behind them, "Oh shit...he missed the newspaper....better stop as soon as you can...we need to clean up the mess."

"Fuck....the things we do for friends!"

*

Misha sat on the rock breathing in deeply as he looked out at the fantastic scenery before him. For miles he could see just pure scenic countryside, with its fields edged with stone walls, streams and lakes, woods and small isolated cottages spread out as far as the eye could see. The air was fresh and clean and his mind was clear. The past week had been difficult as he had come to terms with what he had been doing for the last month, using the alcohol to get over losing Suzanne. Facing up to seeing he was doing just what she had done to cover up her own insecurities and re-setting his own objectives and plans to move forward.

John and Robin were true friends, listening to him pour out his heart, helping him to get his act together and reminiscing over things that he needed to talk about, but never criticising him, never blaming him, just being there for him when he needed them.

He would always hold a place in his heart for Suzanne but she was gone and he knew he had to move on with his life, building his business here in the UK, focusing on enjoying himself, but not being so self destructive as he had been over the past five weeks.

John had told him that out there was the right woman for him. One he would want to be with to build a life together....to love and cherish and that would love and cherish him without all the complications. He just had to be patient and wait.

Standing up from the rock where he sat he started the long walk down the high hill, and back towards the car parked at the bottom, ready to go back to the cottage and then the long drive down south, and the rest of his life.

A life without Suzanne. The last two years a part of him, a part of building his life's memories and experiences, but now free of her and the hurt.

Epilogue -- four years later

Misha stood at Heathrow airport baggage claim watching the bags go by on the carousel. He felt the bang of the metal trolley behind him knock into his legs as the people jostled around him trying to see if their case was coming around on the slow moving baggage runway, and folded his arms over his chest as he waited for his to come out from behind the flaps so that he could get going.

The flight from LA had been a nightmare, with his long legs wedged into the back of the seat in front, unable to get comfortable for much of the delayed flight back to London. His head still pounded from the long week partying with his cousins over the Christmas break, and he now regretted travelling on New Years day back to the UK, especially after the partying he and his cousins had done last night during New Years Eve.

He still had to pick up his car in the long term car park and drive the hours drive around the M25 to his friends Sarah and Pete's house in Purley where he had been invited for supper on his return from LA. Jet lag, a hangover and twelve hours travelling made him want to cancel, but leaning over and grabbing his case as it came around, he decided wearily to maybe just go and eat there and then apologise for leaving early and go home for a well deserved sleep in his own bed.

Walking through customs he turned on his mobile and phoning Sarah explained he was running a little late but would be there as soon as he could.

"No problem Misha, get here when you can....we have some other friends Lorraine and Bryan coming and they're running a little late as well."

Grunting as he put the phone back in his jacket pocket and hefted the case into his right hand, he made his way out to the courtesy bus and the long term car park....not realising that he was about to embark on the beginning of the rest of his life, including the blind date and the meeting of the woman that he would fall in love with............

The woman that was the one for him.

*

If you want to find out what happens next please read Taking the Risk Chapter 1.