Glitz Kids - Episode 5 E-Book

Alexandria Emilia Rawa

• Herausgeber: Berlinable UG (haftungsbeschränkt)
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Serie: Glitz Kids
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Seitenzahl: 110

Beschreibung

Rico and Kamila leave Germany for the blasting sun and comforting bliss of the Caribbean. In the luxurious atmosphere of an exuberant villa their love blossoms. Warm, exciting, and incredibly seductive – Aruba becomes a getaway where the troubles of the mind and nightmares of the soul can be forever forgotten. As Rico slowly heals, he can't help but feel grateful to Kamila for making his wishes come true. They lavish in the numerous comforts of the villa, enjoy long drives around the island sights, and indulge in the most delicious food on Earth, Kamila finally releases her inner fears giving up to love and adoration. If these are the happiest times of all for Rico and Kamila then what follows next? Glitz Kids is a tasteful erotic novel where passion, secrecy, love, and pain are closely intertwined. It reveals shameful but irresistible desires, that even people who have it all cannot resist.

Leseprobe

GLITZ KIDS

5 / 7

Escape

Alexandria Emilia Rawa

Cover: Giada Armani

Copyright: BERLINABLE UG

Berlinable invites you to leave all your fears behind and dive into a world where sex is a tool for self-empowerment.

Our mission is to change the world - one soul at a time.

When people accept their own sexuality, they build a more tolerant society.

Words to inspire, to encourage, to transform.

Open your mind and free your deepest desires.

All rights reserved. It is not permitted to copy, distribute or otherwise publish the content of this eBook without the express permission of the publisher. Subject to changes, typographical errors and spelling errors. The plot and the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to dead or living people or public figures is not intended and are purely coincidental.

Rico // Heringsdorf // 06 July 2013

Walking on crutches sucks. But looking for someone when you have to walk on crutches sucks. I feel like shit.

With my luck, I'd rather run into the arms of my physiotherapist or Schulze herself than find Kamila - because I'm pretty sure I'll be late for one of her two classes today. Or not at all. No plan exactly, I've got other problems right now.

Although I have thrown in Diclofenac, my headache hasn't completely gone away yet. So maybe the headaches also come from the many fucking thoughts that I can't switch off as if they are coming from the devil himself.

To make matters worse, I slowly but surely start to sweat and breathe harder and harder. Theoretically, I should be able to put up to forty percent load on my knee by now, but one-legged jumping is easier than constantly thinking about how much this forty percent actually is.

My former shape is nevertheless completely ruined and even in my healthy leg, the muscles have decreased considerably. I was never a muscleman - I’m not prone to building muscles - but now I am really a stroke in the landscape.

"Such shit..." I murmur angrily and exhausted when I can't find Kamila anywhere in the common room either.

At least I know that she didn’t run away, because her Panamera is still outside the clinic. I checked that first of all. That's good on the one hand, but on the other hand, it makes me incredibly angry that I can't find her anywhere in this cursed mini-private clinic. Angry with the world, my parents, myself... Everything.

I would love to scream and beat around and break something, but I immediately feel that I have no strength. Neither in the vocal cords nor in the arms, not to mention the legs. The anger only flares up briefly in my chest, it burns a little, but when I grit my teeth and breathe deeply, then it works. I figured that out by now.

"Yo, Rico, boy!" it suddenly sounds loud from behind.

I turn around and see Julian limping toward me with his crutches through the corridor.

"Ey," I greet too, and we briefly strike each other with a crutch, which we thought of as a greeting instead of a handshake.

"What's up? Everything’s smooth?" asks Julian.

I've admired him more than once for his loose, flaky, optimistic nature, and I have to remind myself regularly that he doesn't have his family in a cursed rampage...

No, it's best not to think about it at all before I run out of the air to breathe.

But Julian doesn't treat me like that either, and that's exactly what makes him the buddy he is to me.

And he has no idea of my date of birth, fortunately.

"No..." I sigh and twist my eyes tiredly. "Better not ask."

"Oh-oh," exclaims Julian. "Quarrel with your beautiful one? She seemed quite normal to me earlier. A little tired maybe, but w..."

"Have you seen her?" I interrupt immediately. "Where is she? I've been looking all over for her, man."

"Yeah, sure." Julian answers shrugging his shoulders and points his thumb back over his shoulder. "Sits outside on the beach access, with Nori."

I sigh with relief. "Great, thanks, Julian."

"Wait, don't you have physio too?" Julian shouts after me as I hurry past him, as fast as I can with my limp bone.

"I don't give a shit right now," I laugh without turning around.

***

I've never been this far out before. I notice this as I drag myself with my crutches through the clinic terrace, through the garden, and finally on the path to the beach. The only good thing here is that the road is paved, and I don't have to sink into the sand with the fucking things. But I guess that's the way it's supposed to be in a rehab clinic. Everything's nice and accessible. I wouldn't have dreamed of landing here. Especially so young. It definitely wasn't all planned that way.

But in any other situation I probably would have said that it was really nice here. If there weren't anything else involved. The rainy summer, the circumstances. My fucking birthday...

I grind my teeth hard. Something's pulling in my chest and stomach, but I'm almost used to it. I always successfully force myself to ignore it, cough away or just grind it away, and instead concentrate intensively on every movement I make.

I've got to get out of here, and I need Kamila for that.

In fact, I finally see her at the end of the road, where the beach starts. She sits next to Nori on a bench and smokes. And she's still wearing the jogging clothes she sleeps in.

The two of them talk on the side, quietly, friendly. Kamila doesn't seem angry at all. I don't know what I expected or feared, but now I'm just incredibly relieved to see her like that. So completely normal, although everything about her is actually rather the opposite of normal.

She just feels like the only confidante I have left.

"Kamila..." I speak with a slightly husky voice when I arrive at the two of them. "I've been looking for you."

Immediately Nori and Kamila turn around to me at the same time, clearly surprised.

"Oh, Rico!" Kamila's amazed.

She looks first at me, and then suspiciously over my shoulder back into the distance.

"Are you alone? Where are your parents? And Markus?" she asks.

Before I can answer, Nori gets up from the bench.

"I'll leave you to it..." she says and smiles. "I'm sure I'll see you later."

I nod thanks and sit down right in her place next to Kamila. Damn, sitting can be so good.

"I'm so glad I'll get rid of these things soon..." I sigh and drop my crutches carelessly on the floor.

"I can imagine," Kamila says. "You could have just called and asked where I was."

"Hmm, yeah..." I mumble, exhausted, driving over my forehead and hair, grinning crookedly. "I didn't think of it. And my cell phone is still in the room."

"Okay," she replies, facing the sea.

I'm watching her, but I have no idea what she's thinking. Just like always, actually. Her facial expression is neutral. I know it's a shitty description, but it's really the only word I can think of right now.

She drops her cigarette into the sand, stretches out one leg and pushes her foot thoughtfully on the cigarette.

"Are you angry?" I ask uncertainly.

"Mad? Me?" - She blinks at me in amazement. "Why would I be mad?"

"Well..." I shrug my shoulders. "It was a shitty situation. Great surprise."

"Yes, I know," she confesses and bends her legs. "That's exactly why I hate surprises in principle. But it's not your fault."

She digs into her handbag and lights another cigarette, and out of nowhere I am suddenly overcome by the desire to smoke one.

I ask, and Kamila immediately holds out the white box and a lighter to me without a comment.

I light one up with thanks, but I admit I only puff it. It still makes me feel better.

"Hmm, haven't you smoked another brand?" I wonder when I return the pack of Davidoff White to Kamila.

"Indeed, Sherlock," she affirms and seems a little amused at my observation.

I remembered on the very first morning, when I saw her smoking at the window, that the Lucky Strikes was her thing.

And that's what I'm telling her. I don't know why, but the words just come out of my mouth and it feels right.

"Sometimes I just remember details," I add and move again on Davidoff.

"Ah yes," grins Kamila. "Then you'll have to remember it now."

"How come?"

"Hmm" she goes. "It was just time for something new. And I thought it was so nice. So simple, smooth, elegant..."

"You're such a girl," I laugh, but right now Kamila's hand jumps aside and slaps my shoulder.

"Ouch!" I'm complaining.

She turns around and sparkles at me. "Who's the girl now?"

Shortly we have a playful stare, but then both of us have to grin at the same time. There is something light in the air between us again, and for the moment, I forget my knee, my parents, Markus...

Satisfied, I lean back on the bench, look out at the sea, breathe in the pleasantly cool summer air and watch the gentle swell. There is something hypnotic and soothing about it, so much so that I almost forget to flick ashes off in between. And my headaches from earlier are also gone. Maybe there really is something to the healing Usedom climate.

"Rico?" Kamila's voice suddenly comes back to me.

"Mm?"

"I asked you a question! Where are you?" she laughs.

"What?" I ask in amazement. I really seem to have completely forgotten myself.

"Sorry, I must have just been... "Away," I admit and drive through my hair a little embarrassed. "What did you ask me?"

"That were your parents earlier, weren’t they?" Kamila repeats.

And with this question, I'm once again being torn back to the ground of reality. The lightness in the air is gone, suddenly everything is grey and heavy again, my tiredness comes back suddenly and actually I have no desire to talk.

"Yes." I nod a little.

"I thought so. You look a lot like your father."

I snort contemptuously and twist my eyes. I've definitely heard that sentence more times than I'd like.

"Just on the outside, believe me," I grumble. "Fortunately."

Kamila turns to me. In her big blue eyes lie surprise and honest interest.

"Why's that?" she asks and blinks.

"Oh..." I wave and draw my eyes to the ground. "Long story."

"Rico...", Kamila begins, and I still feel her gaze on me, which makes me uncomfortable in this moment. She can do it. Looking at me and making me feel like something's holding me tight.

"If you don't want to talk about it, say so," she continues. "And then it's okay. But with me, you can really save yourself the clichéd bullshit."

I sigh hard. I know she's right and, of course, I knew before that I would have to explain this morning's fucking situation somehow, but I hate the subject.

Family.

My stomach's already closing up when I think about it. My jaw and fists cramp automatically.

First, I don't say anything, just breathe deep and look back at the water. It works for me.

Today my parents had to show up unannounced and make a show... What a shitty situation, what hypocrites. I really feel screwed. Since I moved out of my home when I was eighteen, colorful birthday cards are all I got from my mother and father on my so-called 'day of honor'.

That wasn't much different in the old days. I honestly believe that my parents sometimes regret having fulfilled my childhood dream and getting me enrolled in the Munich SC Juniors. I was fascinated by soccer before, but it wasn't until I joined the club that it became clear how talented I was. I am.

But as an only child of a judge with a doctorate and a law professor with high expectations, it is anything but easy to push through the idea of a professional sports career. Professional athletes without a diploma are all evil.

No, at least my parents didn't stop me from doing anything. But support also looks different.

As a child, I would take the bus to the training ground and back or was taken away by the parents of my teammates because they felt sorry for me. And if I ever practiced with the stud shoes in the garden, I was looked down on.

My parents also made it possible for me to have the best equipment, but all encyclopedias, dictionaries, and science books I pulled out from under the Christmas tree were side blows that still echo a little today. I would have simply wished for a Panini album, but I had to buy it myself from my pocket money. I can still see in front of me today the disappointed ten-year-old I was then.

It was like this until I finished school: I could have pulled a hat trick or make a double somersault - my father would still have been more pleased if I had received a good grade at school. I haven't had many of those. It was okay, it was enough to achieve a solid middle school leaving certificate, but with an acceptable middle school leaving certificate Prof. Dr. Jur. Konrad Pfister could not enjoy his breakfast. No matter how much money I have already earned at SC at that time.

Half a year after I had moved out of home, my parents left Munich for Celle, the city of lawyers par excellence.

That didn't come as a surprise, and it was alright. There's never been anything bad between us. Wouldn't that have been even better sometimes? Yeah, maybe. But conflicts were strictly not addressed in our house. I didn't hear my parents argue once either - there were times when they didn't talk to each other at all for weeks.