Hello, Monsters!
I know I don’t usually send out a Sunday email, but here is the promised conclusion of my Tarzan and Jane retell. I’ll warn you first that there’s more to this than I am sharing here, becuzzz, well, things got out of hand as they sometimes do, and it ends up a little steamy. As in a full on steam scene. So, as not to make Substack mad at me, (I’m not sure if it would or not, but just to play it safe) when things get really juicy, I provide a link for you to continue reading the rest.
Anyhow, I hope you have as much fun reading this little jungle adventure as I did writing it. If you missed the first half of this short story, your can read it here.
“Jane, come.”
Tarzan extends a hand to me, blue eyes twinkling. It’s been months since we first met. He spoke no human words at all then. Since that time, we’ve taught each other many things.
When his fingers curl inward in, beckoning me forward, I close the distance between us, slip my hand in his and allow him to pull me under the welcome shade of the jungle.
Giddy at being spirited away, I laugh, stumbling over a root at the same time. Tarzan swings me up in his arms before gravity has the chance to take its toll. His mouth covers mine in an instant. Ever since he discovered kissing, he uses any excuse to practice the act. Though I must say, for a man raised in the wild, he needed no lessons. My lips and jaw buzz, the sweet vibration we share traveling through me the moment our mouths meet. He probes with his tongue and I open for him, my arms wrapping around his shoulders.
Closing my eyes, I moan into his mouth as he deepens the kiss. He sets me back down on my feet. Our mouths pull apart reluctantly, but the promise I see in Tarzan’s eyes when he looks at me stirs my soul. He has so many secrets hidden away in this jungle of his. I’m eager to learn them all.
He pulls me onward, taking deeper into the forest. I get lost in watching his body move. Animal grace doesn’t begin to define the play of muscle underneath his tawny skin. Myself, I’ve always felt off-kilter, thrown this way and that by my deeper perception of my surroundings. It makes me uneasy in my skin a lot of the time, awkward and clumsy. Tarzan exemplifies motion in its most primal sense, instinct over reason, more beast than man.
“Tarzan,” I speak, trying to distract myself from the incredible lines of his suntanned back, “where are we going?” He glances back, then gives his head a shake, but not before I see his smile grow wide. His hand squeezes mine and he tugs down on it, lifting a heavy branch out of our way as we press forward. My own smile back at him goes unseen.
The thick foliage we’re engulfed in teams with life. There are hidden dangers in the jungle, but I know I’m safe. Tarzan speaks to all of them in that special way of his—the way he spoke to me the first moment of our acquaintance. I may have taught him words, but he’s taught me so much more.
Content to let him lead, I give myself over to our surroundings. A drumbeat pounds beneath the ground, old as the earth itself. It rocks through me, strong and steady. The current in the air swirls and pops, sometimes gently, sometimes fierce. Both energy systems hover against each other, doing battle with one another. The tension of it pulls into my body somewhere at my center. As we walk further, a new pulsation catches my attention. There’s a flowing power that rushes and winds just beyond us. It intensifies and, suddenly, the immense pressure from it overrides everything else. I stop, gasping to catch my breath.
“Tarzan, what is that?” I demand, fearing we head toward something neither of us can handle. I look around, realizing he’s brought me some place new. “Where are we?”
He stops, finally. Drops my hand and turns. Then he reaches up. Placing his fingers at my temples, he brushes at the crease in my forehead from my frown.
“What do you feel, Jane?”
My stare finds his. His manner is still playful, so I give in. Closing my eyes, I try harder to let my senses decipher this new energy. Tarzan’s hands slide down from my hairline. They ghost past my neck, down my arms to my waist. He holds me steady when my body sways. I wait a moment, languishing in his touches. Then it comes to me. My eyes pop open, finding his.
“Water!” I blurt out.
He laughs, happy with his game, then lands a quick kiss on my lips before turning and pulling me under through another web of broadleaves. The further we go, the lower we have to crouch until he has us nearly crawling. It’s like going through a tunnel, one that gets smaller and smaller, until… at last, there’s a break.
“Ohh!” The sight before me takes my breath away. The most magnificent waterfall I’ve ever seen spills over a hidden hillside. “It’s amazing.”
He nods his agreement, pulls me further into the clearing. A narrow path stretches on our side. We step out onto rich, soft dirt. All the colors here are vibrant, deep and full of contrasts. Mist clouds from the top of the mountain, flowing down alongside the cascade to a clear pool below. The whole scene is lush with dark brown earth and heavy foliage. Tropical blooms burst forth in random places, reaching toward the sunlight that streams into the clearing in playful ribbons.
“Tarzan.” I breathe. “This is so lovely.” Energy from the water thunders through me. He gives me a sidelong glance and nods. His hand lifts to hold my cheek, and I lean my head into his touch.
“Like my Jane.” He says, making my heart melt. “Let’s go closer.”
I nod, and he grabs my hand again. We hike down the precarious path through this natural paradise of a garden, closer to the pool below the waterfall, and look up. It’s loud here, the water roaring its power. Tarzan walks us around to the farthest reaches of the pool, where a carpet of soft grass and moss cover the ground. I sit down on a rock, brushing my hair back from face. Tendrils have escaped my clever bun to plaster themselves to my skin in the heat and now the drenching mist. Tarzan crouches down and looks up at me, devilment in his eyes. I know he wants me to take the pins out and let the whole mess fall free. For whatever reason, he’s fascinated with my long, dark hair. And for whatever reason, that makes me feel all kinds of things I’d never mention in polite company. I give in and take out the pins.
He smiles at me the way he’s learned from our time spent at language lessons, distracts me entirely. He reaches out, pushes my skirts out of the way, and starts undoing the buttons on my shoes. His deft fingers make shorter work of the task than mine ever do. Before long at all, he has them off and thrown aside.
“Mind you don’t lose them.” I chuckle. “I’d never make it back to camp.” He glances up, his gaze hooded. His hands travel under my skirt, up the length of my calf, finding the ties of my stocking in the middle of my thigh. Releasing the tiny bow, he drags the thin casing, whisper soft, down my leg. His hands against my bare skin send a riot of shockwaves all through my system. I clear my throat, place my hands back on the rock, and try to breathe. He flashes me a knowing look, his smile playing about his lips, then pulls the stocking off my foot and tosses it aside with my boots.
He shrugs his shoulders.
“You would just live here with me then.” He teases.
I laugh, try for an admonishing expression, but he ignores me, going for the second stocking instead. This time, he moves more slowly, his fingertips playing under the ribbon around my thigh. One of his hands wanders higher, over the ruffle at the bottom of my bloomers.
So. Hot! 🥵
You are my favorite person today.
And Hubby got me a surprise danish for breakfast - that’s hard to beat.