This is raw, unedited first draft as it streams out of my head. Please, if you find an error or have a suggestion, email me! author.jaden.wilkes@gmail.com
Chapter Thirteen
“You’re late,” Eduardo said as Maisy entered the performers tent. It
was still messy from the previous night, but major attempts had been made to
tidy it up. Eduardo seemed to have chased everyone away when he commandeered
the area for their rehearsal.
Maisy checked her phone, it was three minutes after twelve, not
exactly late. Besides, she’d had to clean up after the crazy night, make
breakfast for Rose and take one last check through the Cirque for signs of
Cara. Once again, nobody had seen her. She’d seemingly disappeared into thin
air in the course of Rose taking a piss.
“I’m sorry,” she said and slid the phone back in the pocket of her
jeans.
“When we work together, I expect a high degree of professionalism.
Being tardy will not be tolerated. Do you understand?”
He spoke to her in a slow voice, as if she weren’t mentally capable
of comprehending a simple order. She hated it.
“I understand,” she said and waited for his next direction.
“Next time you need to wear loose, comfortable clothing. We’ll
practice a little today, but you need to be more flexible,” he said.
“What are we going to do?” she asked. He hadn’t even mentioned the
fact that she’d turned him down yesterday. He was so arrogant that he’d
forgotten her stubborn protest already.
“I am going to strap you down, spin you and throw knives at you. We
are going to go through a few rounds, and I will hit you. A very bad, direct
hit. Lots of bleeding. You might work on screaming, making it sound like you’re
in pain. Play it up, and all that.”
“That sounds awful,” she said and shuddered, thinking of the blades
sinking into her flesh. The blood, the healing, the risk of infection, it was
all horrible to think about.
Eduardo crossed the few feet between them and pointed at her upper
arm. “I will hit you here,” he said, “it will bleed a lot and look dramatic. It
will also heal very well.”
“What if you hit something important? Like the bone or a nerve? I
won’t know anything is wrong unless my arm stops working or I keep bleeding.”
“My aim is perfect,” he said, “You will remain unharmed. Now let’s
do this.”
She was reluctant to follow him to the stage. She hesitated, weighed
her options and found her only choice was to follow him. She stopped at the
edge and looked at his set up. He had a rack with at least a hundred knives of
all shapes and sizes lined up in order of largest to smallest. Twenty or thirty
feet across the space, there was a large wheel that resembled a roulette table.
Four straps were attached to it.
“You want to tie me to that?” she asked and thought again about
leaving. Walking away and going back to Canada.
But Cairo. And Cara. And the emptiness that waited for her back in
Vancouver.
She would stay put, even if it meant getting herself sliced up in
the process.
“I will strap you in and spin you,” he told her, “it’s all very
exciting. The crowd loves a good knife act.”
“What happened to the last girl?” she asked.
“She’s working in your old job, selling tickets. Now please stand in
front of the wheel and let me strap you in.”
Understanding very quickly that it was impossible to disobey
Eduardo, she decided to follow his direction. She stood where he asked, spread
her legs and held her hands up. She realized the wooden circle was covered in
thick corkboard, and this was completely covered in knife punctures. She was
beginning to feel an awful lot like a pin cushion.
He grabbed her wrist and held it tightly to the wooden circle,
buckled a leather strap around it, and repeated with her other hand.
“Is she upset?” Maisy asked as he moved to her feet.
He looked up at her, annoyed. “Who?”
“The girl who used to do this. The one I took the job from.”
He strapped her foot in, then the other. He stood up, still a few
inches taller than her, and looked at her face. She was unable to move, she
felt immensely vulnerable. It occurred to her that he could do anything he
wanted at this moment, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Why did she
get herself into these situations?
“I didn’t ask,” he said with a slight curl to his lip, “it doesn’t
matter.”
“Did you cut her?” she asked.
“Never.”
“Why not?”
“She wasn’t like you. I would hurt her if I did.”
Maisy didn’t know why she asked the next question, it bubbled to her
lips before she could stop herself. The moment it was out in the space between
the two of them, she regretted it. She was afraid of his answer. “Did you want
to?”
He looked her in the eyes, his were a dark brown but lacked the
depth and soul of his son. He was completely unreadable and he replied, “Yes.”
He turned and walked to the knife rack, stepped on a foot paddle she
hadn’t noticed before and the wooden wheel started to spin slowly.
“You may feel a little sick at first,” he said, “but you get used to
it. Please don’t vomit on your costume when you get one. If you have to throw
up, warn me and I’ll stop movement.”
“Okay,” Maisy said, her voice a little shaky as the world tipped
upside down, righted itself, and repeated over and over. She lost sight of
Eduardo, everything becoming a blur of motion and colour until she wasn’t sure
which way was up anymore.
She heard the knife before she saw it. A rush of air followed by a
solid thwack in the cork next to her.
She twisted her head and saw at least a twelve inch blade sticking from the
surface of the board near her right arm. She squeaked and continued to spin.
“Don’t move your head!” Eduardo barked at her and threw another
knife. Thwack, this one landed on the left side of her. “I am going to hit you
once only, at the very end of the performance. And I don’t want you disfigured,
by taking off an ear or hitting your eye. You are a beautiful woman, that will
bring more people than a scarred one.”
He threw several more knives and she felt her stomach lurch. She was
surprised that she’d held it in this long, given the wine she’d had the night
before. Adrenaline coursing through her body didn’t help and she felt it twist
again as he tossed another knife, this one landing somewhere very close to the
top of her head.
“Stop!” she yelled and tried to calm her roiling insides. Her head
was still spinning when the wheel slowed and he came to remove her.
“You were drinking last night,” he stated, as though he knew the
answer already. “Don’t drink while you work with me, and I won’t drink while I
work with you. You got that?”
She was alarmed at his admission, that he was a drinker. She hadn’t
figured him for the type or he would have a less dangerous act, wouldn’t he?
She shuddered as his hand brushed her arm and he unbuckled the final strap.
Unable to hold it much longer, she jumped off the stage and found a
garbage bucket near a row of chairs. She let loose the contents of her stomach
with a most unattractive retching sound. She dry heaved, tears coming to her
eyes and her stomach clenching over and over until she felt spent.
When she gained awareness of her surroundings, she saw Eduardo
watching her, his face a hard mask of contempt. “Come tomorrow at ten,” he
said, “and we will work on this some more. Do not drink tonight, am I clear?”
Maisy stood slowly on weak legs and wiped her mouth with the back of
her hand. She didn’t bother to wipe the tears off her face. “Yes,” she said,
her voice quavering with fear and self loathing. She never got hang overs, this
must have been directly from the wheel, but she couldn’t protest or explain
herself. Not to him, he would never buy it.
He turned and walked off the back of the stage, leaving her alone
and shaking next to the garbage full of her vomit.
She just prayed the rest of her days with Eduardo would go better
than this one.
Chapter Fourteen
After her failed rehearsal with Eduardo, Maisy had gone back to her
trailer to join Rose and some friends in a search for Cara.
They’d turned up nothing.
Cairo had gone back to Canada to clear up some paperwork at the
border, the Cirque had some difficulties with their strong man and a pair of
conjoined twins who were going to be joining the show.
Maisy already missed him and spent a restless night worrying about
Cara and fantasizing about Cai’s pierced cock. She was guilty for wanting him
so badly when her friend was missing, but couldn’t help herself. The thought of
fucking him consumed her, so even when she tried to bring herself to orgasm
late that night, she was unable to.
She wanted only him. Her body wanted his, and wouldn’t respond
without his touch.
She ended up punching her pillow out of frustration and reaching for
her phone to text him that she missed him and was thinking of him. Fuck the
rules, fuck playing hard to get, fuck her fears and insecurities, she wanted
him, full stop.
It was past three in the morning and she noticed a text from him
sent just twenty seven minutes earlier, when she’d been trying so desperately
to get herself off. It read:
“Missing you and thinking of you. Can’t wait to get back. xoxo”
She fell back on her bed and held the phone to her chest, a wide
grin on her face.
Before this, Jacob had been her most intense relationship, and
looking back on it she wanted to laugh. She’d never realized how tasteless
their supposed love had been, no wonder she’d never been able to come, and no
wonder he’d gone sniffing after Becs. She almost felt like texting them back to
wish them well together.
Maybe not, she wasn’t feeling that generous.
She texted Cai back, “Me too <3” is all she wrote, but she felt
like he would know what she meant.
She fell back asleep finally able to find some peace before day two
with Eduardo.
*****
Maisy, it turned out, was a natural on the wheel and an expert at
bleeding dramatically. The second day of rehearsals with Eduardo went much
better than the first, in spite of her inability to sleep until she knew she
was on Cai’s mind as much as he was on hers.
Eduardo had barely spoken when she’d arrived, ten minutes early this
time. He’d strapped her in and thrown several knives in quick succession,
explaining that the night of the live show he would take more time in between.
It was all about the performance, all about the drama.
He paused and watched her spinning around, she could find his face
in the midst of the blur and motion and used it to center herself. He said,
“This one is going to make contact, I need you to react. You have to scream,
carry on like you’ve been mortally wounded. We want the crowd to think they’ve
witnessed a disaster. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” she’d said and kept very still as he’d drawn back his hand
with at least a twenty inch blade and let it go.
It hit her with a solid thud, deep into the flesh of her upper right
arm. She felt nothing but the odd sensation of being pinned to the board behind
her. It had gone straight through.
She screamed and cried out, writhed on the board without moving her
arm in order to keep it from tearing, and whimpered as Eduardo approached.
His eyes shone with bright approval and a fiery excitement. She felt
a small flutter of joy in her chest at his positive reaction. She felt like a
little lap dog, begging for its owner’s attention.
“Very nice,” he said and let her down. Blood streamed from her arm
and she didn’t know if she should continue to act as thought it hurt. “You seem
very terrified, anxious, downright horrified. Perfect.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” she replied in a calm voice, her tears already
drying as she spoke, “But it’s a strange feeling, being pinned against the cork
like that.”
“Good, use it and give them a real show on Friday. Go get cleaned
up, we have two more rehearsals before the big day. I won’t cut you until the
night of the event, but you need to train yourself to keep still when you’re
being spun. I noticed you still wobble a little, and I truly don’t want to maim
you.”
She was touched, for the first time he seemed genuinely kind towards
her. He was usually so filled with disdain, she had a hard time believing he
could show her his soft side, but she appreciated it nonetheless.
“Thank you,” she said and walked off the stage.
“Maisy,” he called out to her as she left.
She turned around, one eyebrow raised and asked, “Yes?”
“Good work,” he said, “Very well done.”
She smiled and hated herself for responding to his praise, hated the
part of her that wanted so desperately to please him.
My god, I might have daddy issues, she thought as she left the tent.
She had to laugh though, very typical that she would be the one to find out
after an older man threw a knife into her flesh and patted her on the head for
it.
Dysfunction reigns supreme yet again, she thought and walked to find
a medic.
*****
Cairo had to stay yet another night in Canada, and Maisy was feeling
anxious without him by her side. Although his father approved of her as a
performer, she suspected he still wouldn’t want them hooking up. Every minute
he was gone, she worried that he was going to see things from his father’s
point of view and decide that she wasn’t the right girl for him.
She hadn’t heard from him all day, and finally texted him at dinner
time, just to let him know she was missing him, and he didn’t reply.
She considered calling him, just to hear his voice but didn’t know
if she could afford it, calling from the US. She considered texting him again,
but fought her urge and decided to find Rose instead.
Her friend was sitting with a group of workers in the staff concession.
Maisy got her dinner and a tea and sat down. She listened to the talk as she
ate her lasagna slowly, taking her time so she didn’t have to head back to the
trailer by herself.
The talk turned to Cara, and Rose started to tear up again over the entire
thing. They’d reported her disappearance to the Seattle PD that day, but nobody
thought the cops could do much of anything. This was a circus problem that
would be best solved by circus folk.
“Should we be talking about this in front of her?” one lithe, Goth
girl asked. Maisy had a vague recollection that the girl worked in laundry and
costume repair. It took her a moment to realize the girl had been talking about
her.
“Why not?” Rose asked before Maisy could respond. “Cara is our room
mate, if anyone has a right to be in on discussions about her, it’s Maisy.”
“She’s a performer though,” the girl said and to Maisy’s shock,
several of the people at the table nodded and agreed with the Goth.
“I’m just a circus employee,” Maisy said, “I’m not exactly a performer.
And even if I was, what’s the difference? I’m just me, nothing’s changed.”
“Everything has changed,” the Goth girl said and sneered at Maisy,
“We know how it works around here, you get way more money, way more status and
suddenly you’re looking down on those of us who wash your panties. It happens
every damn time.”
“It’s not going to happen this time,” Maisy said, “I didn’t know
there was a division between performers and workers, and I refuse to let it get
to me.”
“You took my job,” said a stunning beauty at the end of the table,
“I sell tickets now and can barely afford to save for college. So thanks for
that.”
“I didn’t know,” Maisy said, “Eduardo asked me and I couldn’t turn
him down or he was going to send me back to Canada.”
“Right,” the girl said and muttered something to the goth.
“What was that?” Maisy asked.
“I said I guess it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re
fucking his son, right?” the girl replied.
“I’m not fucking anybody,” Maisy said and felt tears at the back of
her eyes. She hated to cry and refused to cry in front of people who would take
joy in it.
“Guys, calm the fuck down,” Rose shouted at last, “Maisy’s good. I
don’t care who she spends time with or where she’s working, she’s good people.
Can you just get to the whole fucking point of this little meeting? Why did
three of our girls disappear and who took them?”
Maisy felt foolish, she hadn’t realized this was a meeting, she’d
assumed it was a casual dinner gathering. Now gorging on her lasagna seemed so
uncouth and callous.
“Why doesn’t she ask her boyfriend?” Goth girl said but her gaze
dropped when Rose stared her down with an angry challenge.
“Nobody is asking Cairo anything,” Maisy said, “he is as freaked out
about this as all of us.”
They went down a checklist of new security regulations and the group
voted on which ones would be implemented.
After it was all over, Maisy finished her cold dinner and gulped her
drink. She and Rose walked back to their trailer.
Halfway back Rose stopped in mid stride and said, “Holy shit!”
Maisy stopped and turned to look at her friend. “What?”
“You didn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend!”
“What do you mean?”
“When Emo princess called Cairo your boyfriend, you didn’t correct
her.”
“So?”
“So, that’s huge,” Rose said with a big grin, “it means he might
be.”
“He isn’t,” Maisy protested, “but he might be eventually.”
Rose giggled and punched her arm. “I knew you liked him more than
you were letting on,” she said and they started to walk again.
Maisy smiled back and accepted the gentle teasing. She still hadn’t
heard from Cai though, so in spit of her admission, she wasn’t sure if he ever
would be.
How could she be sure of his feelings if he didn’t get back to her?
*****
Thursday was their third rehearsal and Maisy practically sleep
walked through it, she was so tired. She hadn’t heard from Cairo and had
finally given in sometime around midnight. She’d texted him something short and
sweet, then called him. It had gone to voicemail after one ring and she left a
plaintive message, hating herself as she spoke the words in her sad little
voice.
“Hey Cai, just me thinking about you. Call me!”
She wished she could go back and erase it. Was it possible to get
dumped before you were even dating? Had she just broken a record or something?
“Pay attention!” Eduardo barked, breaking into her daydream and
pulling her into the present. They’d gone through several variations of his
routine, pretty much all of them ending with him tossing varying sizes of
knives at her. She didn’t think she needed to pay much attention to that.
“Sorry,” she said, “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” The
spinning slowed and she came to a stop. She had learned the wheel was weighted
so it always landed upright when he pushed the pedal to slow it down.
“I asked you if you’ve heard from my son,” he said with a dark look
on his face. His thick brows were furrowed and he looked almost vulnerable with
the concern that played around his eyes.
“I haven’t,” she said, “not since the night before last. Is he
okay?”
“I’m asking you,” he said and walked to stand in front of her. She
looked up at him, her hands and feet still tightly bound. “He seems to be more
interested in slumming these days than spending time with his family,” Eduardo
continued and reached up to touch her face. She thought he was going to slap
her and winced when he made contact, but he stroked her cheek instead.
It was a horrible sensation, his finger drawing across her face,
like a snake moving across her. It was strangely erotic, but full of fear and
tension mixed with disgust. At him, for touching her, and at herself for almost
liking it.
He was undeniably an attractive man. He took care of his body and
she’d caught glimpses of his thick muscles under his tailored white shirt. She
could appreciate him on some level, hot, fuckable, powerful and demanding.
But on a gut level, somewhere deep inside her reptilian brain, he
repulsed her. There was something about Eduardo that felt wrong, like he
possessed some kind of madness that, once it was loosed, could destroy her with
its hunger.
“We spend time together,” she said and didn’t break eye contact.
Never one to back down from a challenge, even when she was facing off with her
boss, a knife throwing, hot, weirdo who had her completely at his mercy.
“I told you I want it to stop,” he said, not removed his hand. He
cupped her face and repeated, “I want you to stay away from him.”
“Why?” she challenged, “Why should I stay away? We’re grown ups,
he’s an adult, we’re free to make our own decisions.”
“He’s engaged,” Eduardo replied and pulled his hand away, watching
her reaction. “The girl is exquisite, a contortionist from Bulgaria. From a
prominent circus family, they’ve been in the business for generations.”
She did her best, she tried to keep everything to herself, hang onto
her poker face and walk away from Eduardo with her dignity intact, but she
cracked.
“You’re lying,” she said, hot tears already rolling down her cheeks.
“I’m not,” he said, “where do you think he is right now? He’s
arranging his fiancé’s papers to come to Canada and meet up with us in the US.”
“There’s no way he is,” she said, “he’s a good man.”
“He is a good man,” Eduardo replied, “which is why he will obey his
father and fulfill his mother’s dying wish.”
She didn’t reply as he removed the straps. When the last one was
free, she thought she was going to tumble forward and fall on the floor, her
body was shaking so hard.
Eduardo caught her, held her in his powerful arms, looked her in the
eyes and said, “I didn’t want you to get hurt. I tried to keep you away from
him, I could see how fast you were falling for him.”
“I thought you hated me,” she said and found her legs again but
didn’t pull away.
“I don’t hate you,” he replied softly, “I just know what kind of
effect my son has on our employees. You’re not the first one he’s hurt with his
careless ways, and you probably won’t be the last.”
She took a step back at last, composed herself and said, “Well, if
this is true then you don’t have to worry about me any longer. I won’t have
anything to do with your son when he returns.”
She decided to leave, took several steps towards the tent exit and
had the strangest feeling that Eduardo was watching her like a hawk. She turned
back and saw a very sly smile on his face, as if he’d just become the victor in
a battle she knew nothing about.
She shivered and kept walking, ignoring the weight of his gaze on
her as she left the tent, determined to find out what the fuck kind of game
Cairo was playing with her.
Chapter Fifteen
She supposed it shouldn’t bother her this much, she’d barely known
Cairo after all. It hurt though, more than the stinging annoyance she’d felt
with Jacob’s betrayal. This felt personal somehow, much more directed at her.
Like he’d drawn back his arrow and pointed it directly at her heart.
There had been some news about Cara. A friend of a friend had told
Rose that Cara had been spotted back in Canada. Maisy and Rose were both
skeptical, but somehow it seemed easier to accept that reality than the
alternate…that Cara was lying lifeless in a ditch somewhere.
They couldn’t figure out why she would have gone home without
telling them, and logic demanded that they still look for her, but both of them
had come up empty handed over the last day and didn’t know how to keep looking.
Neither one had the power, money or know-how to initiate any investigation.
Cairo would have to tell her what his assistant had discovered when he
returned.
Thursday night found her lying on her bed, listless and half awake.
She’d been checking her texts every so often just in case. In case he decided to actually fucking get back to
her, in case Eduardo was insane and planted the thought in her head to tear
them apart.
Rose had gone for dinner without her, but only after she’d asked
Maisy a hundred times or so. She was worried about her friend, and with good
reason.
Maisy was a mess. Truly a pathetic mess of a woman, and all over a
man.
And she wasn’t even sure if Eduardo was being truthful, she needed
to hear it from Cairo’s lips before she believed a word. Her gut told her it
felt right, there was something else going on in his life.
A knock at the door dragged her from half sleep. She held her
breath, listening, not entirely sure if it had been from the dream side or this
side of her brain.
She heard it again, it was real.
She got up, pulled her robe tight and went to the front of the
trailer.
“Who is it?” she asked and peeked out the window.
Before he even answered, she saw his face, Cairo.
“It’s me, Maisy,” he said through the closed door.
The moment of truth, her hand shook as she unlocked and opened the
door, swung it wide and saw his grin.
“Fuck, you look amazing,” he said and stepped into the space that
suddenly felt miles too small. She backed away and looked him up and down. He
was fucking delicious
“Where have you been?” she asked and crossed her arms in front of
her. It was hard to be angry when he looked this good. Why did he have to look
so damned good? “I even called you, I was worried.”
“I lost my phone,” he replied. She wanted to believe him, he sounded
so sincere. She shot him a skeptical look and watched him squirm. “I left it in
a cab in Vancouver. I had to get a replacement, but they couldn’t keep my old
number and I don’t have anybody’s contact information.” He held up an obviously
brand new phone, his old one had been beaten up and a few years out of date.
She’d loved it though, it marked him as so against the grain.
“You couldn’t get a hold of your father? He was asking about you
this morning.”
“You’ve been working with him? Has he been okay with you?”
“Yes, and you didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I don’t know my father’s number. I couldn’t text. I knew I was
coming back anyways, so it didn’t seem like a big deal.”
She stood with her feet apart and her arms crossed and started him
down. Finally she got the courage to ask the question she’d been dreading,
simply because she was terrified of the answer.
“Cai, I want you to be honest with me. Are you engaged?”
He sucked in his breath, ran his hand through his long, tangled hair
and started back at her. She could almost see the gears moving in his head as
he formulated his response. By the time he whispered his reply, she already
knew what he was going to say. “Yes,” his voice broke with emotion and she
could almost see whatever they’d been building crumble slowly into the sea.
“Please leave,” she said, her voice low and steady. She needed him
to leave so she could collapse along with the fledgling relationship she’d been
imagining.
“It’s not like that, Maisy,” he said and took a step towards her.
“It never is, is it? I said go.”
“Let me explain, please.”
“How could you possibly talk your way out of this one?”
“It’s not how it appears, I promise. You mean so much to me, you’ve
changed everything. Everything I meant to do or say or tell my father to
forget, I couldn’t do it until I met you.”
“We barely know each other,” she replied. Her voice was flat, devoid
of emotion and she almost choked on her words. “You’re nothing to me, please
leave.”
“You know that’s not true,” he said, his eyes pleading with her.
“I’ve felt it, I know you’ve felt it. This is like that lightning strike, one
in a million, the thing that people talk about, Maisy. You know it’s real, you
can’t deny it.”
“You need to leave,” she said with a tinge of hysteria creeping into
her voice. “GET OUT!” she finally screamed, losing control and starting to cry.
She rushed at him and pounded his chest with her fists. He tried to grab her
wrists but she pulled away. “You fucking liar,” she spat, “I won’t be that
girl, the other woman. I won’t ruin your fiancé’s life because you can’t keep
your cock in your pants!”
That cock, that stupid beautiful, thick cock. She hated herself for
wanting him, even now in the midst of his lies and their ruin.
He backed up towards the door and turned to leave. As he hit the
ground, he turned back and looked up at her. “If this is what you want, I’ll
go,” he said, “but I’ll make things right for you, Maisy. I will convince you
to give me another chance. I don’t give up easy, so be prepared for me to come
for you when I’m free and clear.”
She didn’t answer, she simply twisted the lock as he shut the door
gently. She stumbled back to her room and threw herself across the bed to
process the shit storm she found herself in.
Nothing could have prepared her for the intensity of the emotions
racing through her at that moment, nothing could have helped her forget about
Cairo and how much she’d wanted him to be the one. Her one.
As much as she kept reminding herself of the horrible reality that
he was a liar and a cheater, worse than Jacob even, she couldn’t prevent her
mind from drifting to the intimate moment’s they’d spend together.
All the little actions that make up a sexual encounter. Every little
noise, whisper of skin on skin, thrill of another person’s touch. And his
mouth, on hers and sucking her clit. His eyes, the way they shone when he
brought her to orgasm. The guttural exclamation when he ejaculated in her
mouth, his hands woven in her hair as though that were the one thing that kept
him grounded, steady on the planet.
And his mouth, always back to his mouth. The tickle of beard as he
kissed her and breathed out into her, the slide of his tongue as he reclaimed
the breath and brought it back into him. In and out, back and forth, circling
and cycling for what she had hoped would be longer than a fucking day.
The time it takes the earth to spin on its axis, and her world was
turned upside down.
She hurt, she curled herself into a tiny ball and let herself cry.
It hurt like a mother fucker, like nothing she’d ever felt before,
and for once this wasn’t a good thing.
For once she didn’t want to be like everybody else and feel this
pain. For once, for possibly the first time, she wanted her heart to be as dead
as her skin, immune to the sharp shards of hurt slicing her to bits as she
cried.
And cried.
*****
She refused to be late for rehearsal, she refused to let Cairo and
Eduardo get to her, so she forced herself up out of her bed and into the
shower.
She even looked normal after she’d finished with her makeup and
hair.
She walked to the performers tent a few minutes early and saw the
other performers leaving, rushing out of there in Eduardo’s wake.
She smiled and said hello to the girls leaving at the end, tall
beauties who were joined at the hip. They had two torsos, two legs, and a
couple of huge grins when Maisy greeted them. Shit like this didn’t even phase
her anymore, that’s what three weeks of working at Cirque did to a person.
Give her another month and she’d be desensitized to it all.
“You’re very early today,” Eduardo announced as she approached the
stage. Like she didn’t fucking know.
“I am,” she declared as she stood in front of him, “tonight’s the
big night.”
“It is,” he said, “we will go to wardrobe after this and find you a
costume. We will practice, but I will not hit you. I just need the same level
of drama you managed the time I drew blood. I will aim for the other side,” he
continued and touched her shoulder, “here.”
“Sounds good,” she said but he didn’t remove his finger. He was
looking at her skin, as though able to see beneath the surface to her muscle,
blood and bones. She felt naked before him, his gaze was so intense. “You want
to strap me in?” she asked to break the uncomfortable silence.
As though breaking his spell, her words snapped him out of it, he
pulled his hand back as if burned and said, “Yes, very well.”
They made it through rehearsal and Maisy found she could now turn on
the wheel on autopilot. If she didn’t think, things went smoother for her.
It seemed like all of life was like that these days.
She was walking across the Cirque grounds to wardrobe with Eduardo
when they ran into Cairo.
“Did you get the reports I sent you?” Cairo asked his father, but he
stood in front of Maisy and looked her in the eyes.
“Yes, yes,” Eduardo replied in an uninterested tone. He waved his
hand dismissively and said, “We have things to do, so excuse us.”
“Where are you going?” Cai asked, still not looking away from Maisy.
“Wardrobe,” his father replied.
“Good, I’ll tag along,” Cairo said and wouldn’t be dissuaded by the
dark look Maisy threw his way. He simply raised an eyebrow and smiled at her.
Why did he have to be so damned charming, and why did her body have
to respond the way it did every time he was near?
Eduardo didn’t seem very pleased by the time they got to wardrobe.
He dragged a couple of costumes off the racks and tossed them towards Maisy.
“Try the red one on first, it will compliment my tie.”
She went behind the curtain and dragged herself into the tight
little dress. It was strapless but hung below her knees. She could barely
breath though, it was so snug. Luckily it was a somewhat stretchy material, so
she could manage a few shallow breaths at a time.
She could hear Cairo and his father talking in low voices outside,
but couldn’t quite pick up on what they were saying. They sounded pissed off.
She held still and focused on their voices, determined to listen in.
She caught Cairo’s voice, deep and angry, like a growl. “Stay the fuck out of
it, you have no right.”
Eduardo’s voice was low and dangerous when he replied, “I have every
right, you are my son.”
“Let’s not do this here,” Cai replied and both men fell silent.
Maisy took this as her cue to come out, so she swept the curtain back and
stepped into the light.
The reaction was immediate, both men jumped to their feet, their
jaws agape. Maisy almost laughed at their expressions, father and son wearing
the same one. Eduardo’s looked a little more feral though, dangerous, while
Cairo looked like he could bury his beautiful face in between her thighs and
force her into rolling wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure.
She focused on Eduardo, ignoring Cai. “Is it okay?” she asked and
tugged at the dress under her armpit, it felt like it was bunching up and being
strapless, she couldn’t wear a bra. She felt naked.
“It will do,” Eduardo replied in an even tone, but his eyes betrayed
his hunger. Maisy tried not to shudder around him, now more than ever. She
deliberately didn’t look at Cairo when she turned back to take it off. As she
slid the curtain back in place, she did catch his look…his face was shining
with pure desire with something else playing across his features.
If he wasn’t engaged to some contortionist from Eastern Europe, she
would have thought it was love.
But it couldn’t be love, it would never be love, not while he was a taken
man.
She slid the dress off and felt relief and sorrow when Cairo called
out to her, telling her he’d see her later, he had business to attend to.
She didn’t want to be cruel, she wasn’t a heartless person, but she
was too broken to respond. He waited for her reply, she could feel his
anticipation hanging heavy in the air, and his disappointment as he drew in a
breath and finally left.
She put on her own clothes and draped the dress over her arm, fixed
a smile on her face and pulled the curtain aside once again.
She hid her own disappointment when she saw Eduardo waiting for her.
She really wasn’t in the mood to keep up her act for much longer. She wanted to
head back to her trailer and curl into a ball of misery.
He nodded towards the door they’d come in and said, “Wait here, Gert
will be along to fit you with shoes and work on your hair and make up.”
He left without another word. She drew in a long shuddering breath
and sat on the stool next to the curtained change room until Gert arrived and
broke her out of her melancholy ponderings.
By the time the older woman was done, Maisy looked incredible. Her
hair was tamed into elaborate braids with crystals and woven pieces of
colourful cloth. Her make up was dramatic, much more so than Maisy was used to,
but she had to admit she liked it.
She was also full of Cirque gossip, none of it useful to her for
finding Cara or deciphering Cairo, but it was entertaining to hear about the
antics of her fellow performers.
It solidified the idea that had been growing in the back of her
mind, the idea that in the Cirque she might find acceptance. Among the freaks
she was normal.
She had found family, in spite of the upheaval she felt around
Cairo. She wanted to stay, and had decided she would do whatever it took to
remain with the group.
Even if it meant facing him and his future bride. Even if it meant
her heart breaking every time she saw them together.
Even if it meant cocooning her heart and letting herself give up on
love.
She would do it to stay, to feel normal and welcome for the first
time in her life.
Chapter Sixteen
The massive main stage canvas tent was packed elbow to elbow with
excited people. Maisy kept peeking out the curtains at the audience, imagining
them naked to calm her nerves.
It wasn’t working. Stupid
advice, she thought, whoever came up
with that wasn’t facing this many people at a fucking circus.
Eduardo was the ringmaster of the entire show, she hadn’t known
that. He was brilliantly charming and had the crowd eating out of the palm of
his hand. They laughed when he told jokes, gasped when he dramatically swept
his hand to display one of the performers, and held their breath when he
explained the danger involved in some of the acts.
Maisy was under his thrall when he was on stage, gone was his singular
intensity, his feral predatory presence. He shone in front of a crowd.
Maisy wasn’t so sure how she was going to do. She wanted to believe
she’d be a natural at it, but now that she was faced with the crowd, she wasn’t
so sure.
Their act was the final performance of the evening, the grand finale
in which she was going to be injured, by accident according to the crowd. They
would be ushered out and left wondering if the girl on the stage would be okay.
It would create the drama that Eduardo so desperately needed.
“You’ll be fine,” Cairo said from behind her. She jumped, turned and
faced him. “You’ll be better than fine,” he added.
“I know,” she replied. She was playing it cool, keeping her nerves
calm by pretending she had no feelings for him. She wasn’t doing a very good
job at it, her stomach clenched and she felt a creeping warmth rising through
her body. “Your father has taught me a lot in the few days we’ve had together.
For example, how your mother’s dying wish was for you to marry some girl from another
circus family”
“Let’s not do this now,” he said and grabbed her arm. “Can we talk
afterwards? I need to explain what’s going on.”
“I think you’re beyond explaining,” she spat, “all I need to know is
yes, you have a fiancé. That’s it, case closed. I won’t be the other woman, I
won’t be like Becs.”
“Who?” he asked, confused. Maisy forgot that she hadn’t told him
anything about Becs and Jacob. It was strange, they hadn’t known one another
for long, but she felt as though she’d shared so much with him. Like they
should automatically know about each other’s lives.
“My best friend, fucked my boyfriend, you know…oldest tale in the
book. I won’t be her, the other
woman. I won’t break your fiancé’s heart. I can’t do it.”
“You keep saying fiancé like it means something,” he said, “it means
nothing. It’s a stupid arrangement. You know it’s just about the money. My
father owes a lot of it to the wrong people and he’s counting on her family’s
money to dig him out of the hole he’s in. I’m done with it though, I’m sick of
rescuing the fucking family and not living the life I want.”
“Then walk away,” she said, “I dare you! You know you can’t do it.
You tried it once already.”
The stage manager motioned for her to get ready, she took one last
peek at the audience, there would have had to be almost a thousand people
crammed in there.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he said. “We need to talk about
this. Promise me you’ll meet me later.”
“I can’t promise anything,” she said, “and thanks for fucking up my
first performance. Now I feel sick to my stomach.”
He gripped her arm tighter and the stage manager was getting
restless with Maisy’s lack of movement into place. She gestured again and
mouthed the words, “Get over here.”
“You will be magnificent…but I won’t let you go unless you agree to
talk,” he said in her ear. He didn’t loosen his hand, so she believed him. She
would try to keep her off stage and ruin her first night working with Eduardo.
She might end up fired and homeless after all.
“Let me go,” she said and tried to pull back. He held her tight, and
she could hear Eduardo wrapping up the performance before theirs. “Fine, I’ll
talk to you. Just let me do my act.”
“Perfect,” Cairo said, loosed his grip at last and moved his hand up
to her shoulder. He rubbed it and she couldn’t resist, she let him keep it
there. “You’re so beautiful, the crowds will love you. They’ll eat you up, and
I don’t blame them.”
He leaned and kissed her, brushed away a stray strand of hair from
her neck and landed his lips in its place. From her mouth to her shoulder, her
skin was on fire. “I’ll be waiting for you, here with the medics,” he murmured
against her neck and she shivered at the contact. Damn, he already knew what it
took to make her forget her surroundings and her anger.
“Okay, I have to focus,” she said, breathed out and walked towards
the manager who was gesturing wildly for her to get moving. “Here goes
nothing,” she mumbled under her breath, turned back once to see Cai’s bright
eyes watching her, and entered the performance area.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Eduardo spoke into his mic. It was hooked to
an earpiece, like a telephone headset. Hands free was helpful when you were a
knife thrower she supposed. “I would like to bring you to the final act of the
night. As you exit, remember, the Freakshow tents will remain open until
midnight if you didn’t have a good look before the main event.”
The audience was quiet, enthralled with Eduardo’s dynamic stage
presence and low, accented voice.
“I would like to introduce you to my lovely assistant for tonight,”
he said and waved his hand for Maisy to come forward. “This is Nadia, direct
from Russia. She doesn’t speak a word of English, otherwise she never would
have agreed to this act,” he continued, “so let’s give her a round of
applause.”
The crowd’s reaction was immediate, and Maisy was immediately
addicted. The roars, cheers and clapping was all directly injected into Maisy’s
veins like a drug. The excitement washed over her, and she began to play it up
for the crowd, bowing and waving like she truly had no idea she was going to be
strapped to a spinning wheel and have knives thrown at her.
Eduardo motioned for her to stand against the wheel, when she
pretended she had no idea what she was supposed to do, he grabbed her hand and
strapped it in, followed by her other hand and feet.
It was very business-like and performed in front of hundreds of
people watching, but she found the act strangely intimate. He kept eye contact
with her almost the entire time, and spoke to the crowd on his mic, but she felt
as though it were just the two of them.
She hadn’t expected it, but she was a little turned on by it all.
She could feel the thrum of the crowd, the weight of their expectation,
Eduardo’s pleasure, the touch of his hand on her skin, the fear that something
could go wrong and the exhilarating belief that it will all go right.
Eduardo stepped back and two assistants rolled out a rack of knives.
The crowd went silent, she could hear the distinct sounds of throats being
cleared and people shuffling in their seats.
He pumped the foot pedal and she started to spin, slowly at first
but she sped up fast. She felt as though she were going faster than the first
few times she’d been on the wheel. She focused on Eduardo’s face to keep
herself centered.
He was the picture of concentration, his eyebrows furrowed and his
full lips narrowed into a straight line. He removed one of the larger knives
from the rack and pulled his arm back.
The thwack of the first
knife drew exclamations from the crowd, these grew with each knife throw as the
knives got larger and larger. Everybody was on the edge of their seats,
secretly hoping one of the knives would hit her, every human had a morbid side
if they were forced to admit it.
Eduardo handled them expertly, he already had them eating out of his
hand by their performance, but now he had them in awe of his deadly talents.
Between tosses, he would entertain the audience with tales of knife throwing
through the ages, and his own personal experiences. This served to ramp up the
crowd’s anticipation.
He finally got down to the final toss of the show, the one that
would penetrate her body and create the illusion of a grand mistake. Eduardo
made an off hand light remark about never hitting a single one of his human
assistants, pulled his hand back and paused. The crowd was still, as thought
frozen in time, hanging on his every movement. Maisy could see a flash of light
off the polished blade as she spun around, and he let it fly.
It landed exactly where they had planned, he was a brilliant shot,
she’d give him that. She felt it sink through her flesh like a heated metal
through the proverbial stick of butter, and she was pinned to the cork board on
the wheel behind her.
She almost forgot to scream, she was so focused on the knife in her
shoulder. Half a breath in and she remembered. She really let loose, a long
drawn out shriek of pure terror. Her throat vibrated with the energy she put
into it, she was worried it would be too dramatic and not very convincing.
Eduardo stopped the wheel from turning and the crowd went wild when
they realized what had happened. People were exclaiming and standing in their
seats vying for a better look, they had bought into her act. Maisy was pleased
with herself and tried to contain her satisfied smile.
Eduardo’s two assistants came rushing out to help him take Maisy off
the wheel and offer a steady hand to guide her to the stage floor where he
would assess the damage.
She was bleeding fabulously and continued to cry out as if in
intense pain. It turned out she was a natural at this entire performance thing,
she had acting in her blood. She’d pretended to be normal her entire life, so
this wasn’t much more of a stretch for her.
She imagined this would bloody hurt if she had any feeling. She
moaned and rolled back and forth when they took her down. She allowed Eduardo
to drop her to the floor with a dramatic flourish while the assistants rushed
to get a stretcher.
She writhed in Eduardo’s arms and he said, “You’re doing amazingly
well. Keep it up, and you’ll be the star of the show.” She smiled at him, fully
thrilled that he had given his approval. She was enjoying this too much to hate
herself for needing his feedback.
The medics loaded her up and whisked her off stage. She heard
Eduardo apologizing for the terrible thing that had just occurred and promising
to keep Freakshow open a little longer just to make up for the emotional trauma
anybody might have gone through.
Of course, Freakshow had a fully licenced bar attached to it, and
after a shock like that, the gathering crowds would surely need a drink.
Maisy was checked over, her wound bandaged up and was told she was
free to go. She had to give it to Eduardo, he was a brilliant showman and knew
exactly what it would take to get a crowd worked up and spending money.
She subconsciously rubbed her shoulder and looked for Cairo. He was
standing a few feet away watching her, an unreadable expression on his face. He
approached when he noticed she was alone.
“That was brilliantly well done!” he told her, “you had every one of
them eating out of the palm of your hand. It was extraordinary really.”
“I think it went pretty well,” she said, “I was skeptical at first
but your father was right…people love disaster.”
“They love you,” he replied and took her hand. He tugged gently and
she followed him outside. Who was she kidding? She wanted to talk to him, she
wanted to believe him and prayed he would make this all right. Besides, the
performance had been so invigorating, there was no way she could possibly go
back to her trailer and sleep.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he led her across the grounds of
the Cirque. It was after eleven, nothing was near by, so she hoped he was
taking her to his RV.
“The concession,” he said and she hid her disappointment. She felt
high, giddy with the stimulation of public performance and felt like it would
be a convenient reason to explore his pierced, thick cock again. “They serve
drinks at night, did you know that?”
She shook her head, she didn’t as she was usually in bed long before
this.
“It’s handy, if you have any money left on your employee card at the
end of the month, you can spend it on booze. That’s why there’s usually a bit
of a party once a month, so staff can use up their credits.”
“So you’re okay with that? As the boss?”
“I’m not the boss,” he said, “I know I keep this beast afloat, but
I’m not exactly in charge of anyone.”
“Who is then?”
“That honour would go to the big bad wolf, my father. You should
know that by now.”
“I know people have been treating me different since we hooked up
that night at the party. I know people think I’m in with the boss so I’m
automatically a snotty bitch,” she said. It wasn’t exactly fair to him, but she
knew showing up with Cai to drink after her first performance would set her
apart from the other employees more than anything else. But she wanted to be
with him, talk and spend time. It was a self destructive compulsion, she didn’t
want to lose the comfort she’d found with her coworkers, but she couldn’t help
but follow him into the tent.
He ordered them each a vodka tonic – he’d remembered her drink – and
settled in at a table near the back, where the lighting was dim and the crowd
had thinned out a little. She ignored the pointed stares from other Cirque
employees and sat with him as though she were meant to.
She knew they would whisper, that she’d only gotten the sweet gig
with Eduardo because she was dating Cairo. It wasn’t like that though, and she
didn’t have the time or energy to try and explain herself to anybody.
Speaking of explaining, she sipped her drink and waited for Cai to
start stuttering his lame excuses for not mentioning his fiancé.
“I know you must hate me,” he said and took a long draw of his
drink. Liquid courage. “The thing is, my life is pretty fucked up.”
“Whose isn’t?” Maisy snorted and chewed on a cube of ice.
Cai managed a small, ironic smile at her reaction and went on, “As
you know I was in school. I’d been out of the lifestyle here for several years.
I was happy.”
“Were you clean cut and free of tattoos…and piercings?” she asked
and glanced towards his lap, then flamed bright heat at her attempt to not
think about the elephant in the room. The giant pierced cock just a couple feet
away from her. God, she was insane for it now.
He didn’t seem to notice. “No, I actually got all the work done in
university, it was my rebellious stage. The beard came later, when I moved
back.”
He had another drink and took a deep breath. “My mother got cancer.
We all knew she was sick, and getting sicker, but my father was relentless with
the touring schedule. She should have gotten medical care months before she was
able to. My sisters begged him to stop for the year and let her go to a doctor,
but he refused. It wasn’t until I showed up that he relented, and by then it
was too late.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said and looked at her glass, felt ashamed for
her lack of compassion. Her own parents had been taken dramatically,
instantaneously with no time to prepare or say goodbye. Somehow it seemed a
blessing, rather than watch somebody you love slowly fade before your very eyes
with no power to prevent it.
“It’s okay,” he said and gave her a small smile, “that was two years
ago now, she didn’t make it long. She died in Montreal, that’s where she’s
buried. Anyways, her dying wish was for me to get married and take care of the
Cirque. She’d come from Eastern Europe, from a traveler family who went back
countless generations performing in the circus.”
“It’s so strange that this entire performer world exists, and has
existed for eons, and I never knew a thing about it,” she mused and let him
continue his story…and excuse.
“Part of the tradition of our people is that the eldest son must
take over the family business, and marry a girl suitable to his family. As you
might have guessed, it’s pretty much out of date and people do what they want.”
“Which is probably for the best, right?”
“Yes, most everyone is on board with it. The older generation have
trouble though, they believe that’s the reason circuses and freak shows are
dwindling and dying out. I think it has more to do with shifting trends in
entertainment, but I couldn’t tell my parents anything. They insisted I agree
to marry Mila, and I finally agreed with them in the end. But only for my
mother’s sake. My father understood this at the time and hasn’t brought it up
since then.”
“So what changed? When did he start talking about it again?”
“The night after our first date,” he said softly, “do you remember
that?”
“It wasn’t that long ago,” she said and laughed, “and maybe I didn’t
think it was a date.”
He didn’t laugh back, he just looked at her with his deep, dark, soulful
eyes and said, “I think we both knew what was going on.”
His seriousness wiped the smile off her face and she was hit with a
sudden vision of his face between her thighs and couldn’t breathe for a moment.
Then a smile played around the edges of his eyes and finally reached
his lips when he said, “Just to make it clear. This is a date.”
She had to smile back, and replied, “Okay, point taken. I give up.
This is a date. But why did that prompt your father into bringing up Mila?”
Even saying her name hurt Maisy, she would rather pretend there wasn’t a
stunning contortionist named Mila with rights to her man. At least she assumed
Mila was stunning, and even if she wasn’t, she was certainly bendy enough to
make up for it sexually.
And stop the presses, her man?
What was wrong with her. He wasn’t
hers…yet. But it felt so right to say it…in her head at least.
“Money,” he replied, “with him it’s all about money. He’s had some
issues with alcohol over the years, but my mother kept him on the straight and
narrow. Over the past year he’s been drinking again, but he added gambling to
the mix.”
“I’m sorry,” she said and genuinely meant it. She couldn’t imagine
the pressure he felt to keep it all together, to give up his own life’s dreams
to make this life work. Not just for him and his father, but his sisters and
the hundreds of people who relied on the Cirque for steady employment and a
surrogate family.
Cai leaned forward across the table and grabbed Maisy’s hand. He
stroked her thumb as he talked and made it extremely difficult to concentrate
on what he was saying. “The Cirque barely stays afloat as it is,” he told her,
“I have to get pretty creative at tax time and make sure the employees keep
their tips under the table to make this worthwhile for them. Somehow, against
the odds, I was keeping us going and even bringing in some money for the
family. When he started gambling, I lost my grip on it all. We’re seconds away
from losing it all, Maisy, and it’s pretty fucking hard to admit that.”
“So Mila has money?” Maisy asked and the words almost choked in her
throat now that she knew what his marriage would represent.
“She does, her family will inject our circus with half a million
dollars once she’s legally wed. They want her to come to North America.”
“Fuck,” Maisy said, “that’s a lot to take in.”
“It really is,” he said and finished his drink. “Do you want
another?” he asked her and shook his glass, the ice rattling and jarring her
back into her body.
“Not really,” she replied and decided right then and there that she
was going to fuck Cairo tonight. Not just because he was hot and made her feel
desperately out of control. Or because he’d given her not one, but two feral,
savage orgasms.
She wanted to fuck him because he needed her, and she needed him,
and there was no more perfect reason in the universe to her right then.
Need, love, it was all a mixed up jumble along the same spectrum,
and in the end, as long as they spent the night whispering and kissing and touching
and easing each other’s grief for a brief few hours, what did it matter?
She stood and held his gaze, reached out her hand and said, “I have
a better idea.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Are you sure about this?” Cairo asked and pulled away from their
passionate kiss. “If I get started, I’m warning you now, I won’t be able to
stop.”
“I would kill you if you stopped, even now. Just shut up and take me
back to your place,” she replied and stood on her tippy toes for another kiss.
His hand was wrapped in her hair and firmly fixed to the back of her
neck, his other hand was on her back and she felt completely and utterly at
home in his arms.
“Yes ma’am,” he said and kissed her again. She felt him lift her up
off the ground and press her against the back of a storage container. They
weren’t far from the staff concession where they’d left ten minutes ago, but
hadn’t been able to keep their hands from one another.
She climbed him like a spider monkey, finally knowing what it felt
like to hang off a man who could hold her like she weighed nothing. She loved
it, floating along in his arms as he moved them towards his RV.
They managed to somehow find it in the midst of groping, kissing and
playful banter. She dropped to the ground as he fished for his keys, they
weren’t that coordinated after all. Certainly not worthy of a side show, and
she was no contortionist.
She forced the pang of jealousy to the back of her head and focused
on the now. The fact that this gorgeous, intelligent, hilarious man wanted her,
and she wanted him. They were into each other and nobody in the world mattered.
He got the door open, picked her up and carried her into his space.
He kicked it shut and leaned to lock it. It was so quiet she could almost hear
the sound of her own heart pounding in her chest and his matching rhythm.
He kissed her, and all she heard was the soft sigh of his breath as
he moaned against her lips and tongue. She could feel his hard cock pressing
through his pants against her leg. Her tight red dress began to ride up even further
as he pulled her higher against him, her legs wrapping around him instinctively
now.
He pulled back and said into her ear, “I wanted to tear this off you
the moment I saw you in it. I was so hard, and ready to fuck you right there in
wardrobe, did you know that?”
“ I had a suspicion,” she said and giggled as he nibbled her neck.
He backed into his living room and sat down on his low, leather sofa. She
straddled him and let him continue to trailed kisses and nibbles down her neck.
“I had to leave or I wouldn’t be able to control myself,” he told
her in between kisses and bites, “I came back here and I jerked off, thinking
about you in this dress.”
“Are you serious?” she said and smiled. The thought of him wanting
her that badly made her feel so powerful, so exotic and desired. She pulled the
hair tie from his head, released his thick mane and wrapped her fingers in it.
“That’s so fucking hot,” she said, “can you show me now?”
“You want me to jerk it in front of you?” he asked, seemingly
surprised by her bold request. She herself was surprised by it. He said, “Only
if you touch yourself for me.”
She agreed, so she inched up his thighs towards his knees, placed
her feet up on the sofa and exposed her pussy to him. His sharp intake of
breath was all she needed for encouragement. She kept her panties to the side
and slid her own finger along her slit and found her clit. She was soaking wet.
“Your turn,” she said and moved her finger up and down slowly,
sensually. His eyes didn’t move off her little show and he unzipped his jeans.
He pushed his underwear and pants down just enough for his magnificent cock to
pop out.
It was her turn to be mesmerized, it was bigger than she remembered
and seeing it exposed, pierced and thick and veiny, turned her on more than she
could have imagined.
“Play with your clit,” he said and stroked his cock, fisted the head
and gripped the shaft, “show me your beautiful cunt.”
She obliged, she spread herself wider and he growled, took his other
hand and palmed her pussy. He slid a finger inside of her and began to fuck her
slowly, matching the pace of his own stroking.
“Cai,” she whispered and looked at his face, “this is crazy, it’s so
hot.”
“It is, beautiful girl,” he replied and stared into her eyes, “do
you know why?”
“No,” she said and bit her lower lip. She pushed a little harder on
her clit and could feel her pleasure intensify.
“Because of you,” he said, “you do this to me, to us. You make all
of this so fucking sexy, it almost hurts.” His breath grew ragged and he
increased his pace, both on his cock and inside of her.
She threw her head back and felt as though she were going to fall,
she was so high on the energy of the moment. She sat up again and watched him
play with them both, decided right then and there that this was the sexiest
fucking thing she’d seen in her life.
“I want to come again,” she begged him, “the way you made me
before.”
“You will,” he said, “but wait until I tell you.”
She felt a jolt of pleasure snake through her spine at his command. She
moved her finger against her clit and didn’t break eye contact with him. He
leaned forward and kissed her, slipping his tongue against hers as he fucked
her with his finger. She wasn’t even aware of his cock any longer, such was the
self centeredness of her own masturbation.
She gasped as he curled his finger upwards, he hit a spot she’d not
felt before. She jumped each time he passed roughly across it, and fingered her
clit and felt her orgasm building again.
How was it that he had this control over her? How did he manage to
make her feel this loose and free with her joy when nobody else had ever gotten
close, not even herself?
“Come for me,” he ordered and stopped moving his finger. He applied
steady pressure on the inside of her and she raked her finger over her clit, found
the sensitive bundle of nerves she’d been seeking and increased her motion.
She was panting by the time she got to where she wanted. “That’s it,
beautiful girl,” Cairo said, his voice deep and commanding, “come on my finger,
let me feel your sweet juice all over me.”
She obeyed, something that had been dammed inside of her let go. She
sobbed with the overwhelming emotion that it brought out of her, and shuddered
her gasping, panting orgasm against him. She clung to him, seeking something
solid in the midst of the wave upon wave that washed over her, threatening to
drag her under with its force.
Her pussy pulsated and finally clenched a final release and she felt
a shock of horror as she gushed all over his hand, unable to control herself.
“Oh my god,” she panted, “what was that? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said and held her against him as he slowly
removed his hand from where he’d been cupping her pussy. “That was natural,
normal and fucking exquisite.”
She leaned against him and pulled her finger away from her clit and
wrapped her hand around his throbbing, hot cock. “Now this is fucking
exquisite,” she said and kissed him. He thrust against her and his groan was
barely perceptible, but she could feel it on her lips.
She sped up her stroking and felt his hand cover hers as they both
worked his cock. His breathing deepened, his body tensed and his other hand
gripped her arm.
She felt him shudder and knew he was close. She kissed him harder
and let him fuck her hand until he came.
She’d never felt such a sense of smug self-satisfaction over
bringing a man to orgasm. There was something inherently primal about jerking
Cai’s cock though, something that connected her with some deeper mystery to the
way of things. She’d never had so many emotions mixed up with physical
sensation, and she’d never felt the need to please
a man so desperately.
“Good girl,” he said against her lips as his body stiffened and he
came. She felt it, hot and thick down her hand, and for once in her life it
didn’t disgust her. She was fascinated by everything Cai, and this seemed
completely natural given their current circumstance.
She pulled back, grinned, held her hand to her mouth and slowly
licked his cum off her skin. He groaned as he watched her work her tongue
through it, sensuously, deliberate, and dirty. Cairo made her feel like a dirty
girl in the best possible way there could be.
“Come here,” he said and pulled her to him. He kissed her, their
tongues working against each other. She felt her panties slide back into place
and was suddenly overcome with the need to be naked with him, to feel their
bodies against each other. He as much read her mind, he stood, still kissing
her, and moved towards the back of his RV.
“I’m going to fuck you,” he said and nudged the door open, he set
her back on the bed and stepped away. He looked at her, his face full of
challenge and promise, and he said, “I am going to fuck you so hard, and so
long, that you won’t remember Cairo as a city in Egypt.” He pulled his jeans
down and dragged the off his long, thick legs. His cock was already hard and
ready for her. She licked her lips and watching him unbutton his shirt and
continue, “Cairo will mean one thing to you at the end of the night, and one
thing alone.”
He pulled the dress shirt off his muscular torso and his arms bulged
as tossed it to the side. He was so broad, so thick and muscled…and so
tattooed…she almost didn’t know where to look, it was a feast for her eyes.
“And what’s that?” she asked, with a glimmer of anticipation and
amusement in her eyes. She almost wanted to challenge him, to make him work
harder. She wasn’t sure if she’d survive it though, the pleasure might overtake
her and leaver her catatonic under the weight of it. It would be the best way
to go though.
“He stepped between her legs, dropped to his knees and was level
with her. He hooked his thumb in her panties and tore them off with one swift
movement. “Pleasure,” he said and smiled, “Cairo will simply mean pleasure to
you from this night out.”
She smiled back and took a long breath in, as though about to plunge
into the depths of the ocean. In a way, she was.
She couldn’t help herself though, her smile widened and she said,
“Prove it.”
