by Jade Hart
I didn’t really have anything sexy to wear. Working long hours meant I favoured jeans and jumpers. But I did have a little black dress in the back of my wardrobe. I slipped it over my head and shivered as the material kissed my nipples through the bra.
Shit, I was still in my bedroom and I was turned on more than ever before. What was causing my blood to thicken? Was it the thought of seeing Noah there? Letting himself indulge like I planned to do? Was it the allure of the worker I’d seen, or the knowledge I had no idea what would happen tonight? Probably all of it. I’d never been so tingly and jumpy before.
Hands trembling, I ran them through my silky chestnut curls and dusted purple eyeshadow on my green eyes. It was the most primping I’d done in months, and I was shamed to admit the first time I’d shaved my legs in four weeks. Hey, I doubted germs in petri dishes were checking out my pins.
I froze in the centre of my bedroom.
I was accessorized, dressed, panting, and ready to leave. Could I do this? My heart charged with trepidation. No. I wasn’t ready to do this.
Then why was I getting my recent medical report from my desk and tucking it into my little beaded bag? Lucky for me, my work required a monthly check-up thanks to all our handling of contagious diseases. But what about the people who didn’t have such a risky job? How did they enter Circotica with the rule of medical resumes?
This was nuts. I should turn around and throw my flannelette pyjamas on and forget about the flyer. Yes, good idea. So why was I walking to the exit even as I hyperventilated?
The click of the door locking brought my decisions crashing upon me. If I walked down the road toward Tassels of Tantalization who knew what would happen.
I licked my lips as a delicious tremble filled me. I loved the idea. I might return home after being turned into a pretzel by an acrobat, or wrapped in silk by a trapeze artist. Or better yet, whipped by a lion tamer. My thoughts were a squash ball—smashing around my brain with rational fear and mouth-watering anticipation.
Shit, I never knew I was so kinky. Were other women like me? Hard workers, mothers, sisters—all the while simmering beneath the surface wanting some naughtiness and adventure that would warm their souls for the remainder of their lives? If I did this, I knew I’d be smug for the rest of my days. Smug that I had the guts to go to a sex circus—on my own—with no regrets, or hesitation—not too much, anyway.
My mind ran wild with scenarios of what might happen as my feet guided me almost as if I was propelled by magic down the night-darkened streets. I coasted through puddles of street lights, threading through shadow and gloom.
My body tingled as I imagined Mr. Hot-Worker kissing my neck, touching me, only to throw me down and take domination. At the same time, I flirted with the idea of handcuffing him with a fluffy boa and doing whatever I wanted to him. Holy crap, I couldn’t keep up with my newly kinky brain.
The horizon glowed with purple up-lights as I slammed to a halt on the other side of the road.
Only two lanes of traffic barred me from the raunchiest thing I’d ever done in my life.
Perhaps I read the brochure wrong? Surely there was nothing like this? It couldn’t exist. Why did they want my medical report? Oh God, don’t answer that. Too many questions followed that one and not all of them sexy.
My throat squeezed as a tall, leotard-clad woman waved at me coyly from across the road. She blew me a kiss, cocking her hip suggestively. I didn’t think my cheeks would ever stop flaming.
I stepped dazedly off the path and into oncoming traffic.
An angry horn had me prancing back to the safety of the curb. I broke eye contact with the woman only to have my eyes shoot behind her to a loud, masculine laugh.
Him.
He was there. The man who’d started my insane obsession with this place.
He placed a large hand on the woman’s shoulder and whispered to her, never taking his eyes off mine.
I gulped as she laughed.
Checking for traffic, he jogged across the road and stopped within touching distance. He wore an open necked black shirt and low slung jeans with crocodile boots. No circus attire, but for the small slash of black glitter in the shape of a lightning bolt on his cheek.
Oh my God. He matches my underwear.
“You. I remember you from the almost-accident an hour or so ago.” His voice resonated deep in my stomach and I struggled to stay teetering on crazy high heels. They pinched my toes, helping ground me in reality and not float away on lust.
I tried to speak—to sound sexy and confident—but it came out like a squeak.
He chuckled and held out his hand. “Are you here for the sex, or for Circotica?”
My core clenched at the way he rolled ‘sex’ in his mouth. “You mean there are two options?” Maybe I wouldn’t have to go through with this? Severe disappointment crashed over me. Here I was hoping I might kiss the man—a complete stranger—and I might’ve got the wrong end of the story.
Mortification painted my cheeks.
He smiled, shaking his head. “Yes and no. There’s sex, and then there’s sex on show. You can either be private or be part of the entertainment. Whatever your fantasy is.” His eyes glittered; I was close enough to notice they were dark purple. He must be wearing contacts.
“So, show or not to show?”
My ears burned even as a slideshow of possibilities filled me. I could have sex and others would watch me? I trembled again, but this time in fear. I didn’t think I could go that far, even though at the same time it sounded intoxicating.
“Umm, I don’t think I want to be part of the show.” Sucking up courage, after all I’d come voluntarily to a sex circus, I asked, “Are you part of the show, or are you open to a private, umm, viewing?”
He chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re shy? You can’t be. Not the way you ogled me when you were driving.” He leaned in and a whiff of spice, sin, and sex assaulted me.
Oh God, I could get off just on his smell.
“Are you going to come?”
So he was in charge of advertising. My stomach poised, tensed for something I wanted very badly.
I nodded.
A sly grin split his lips and he murmured, “Can I do something? It will loosen you up. Make you enjoy the evening better.” He inched closer. “I hoped you’d show tonight. I would’ve regretted not getting to know you better.”
I recoiled. If he was talking about drugs, no way would I ruin the horny glow I basked in. I wanted to remember everything. If I was allowed, I’d of brought a camera and video to document what would happen. I never wanted to forget tonight. I was letting go. Not just letting go, but bungee jumping into a pit of sex and lust. God, that sounded good.
He could do anything to me if he wanted, within reason. Hang on—was this legitimate?
He nodded, reading my hesitation somehow. “Tassels of Tantalization is a licensed business. I can give you our credentials, if you need them?”
I bit my lip but stopped the moment his amethyst eyes gazed intensely at my mouth. “No, it’s okay. I guess I trust you.”
He dropped his head to peer at me through his messy brown hair. “I’m glad. I’m happy you can trust me. ‘Cause if you trust me, I can do things to you that no one else has.”
I swallowed my heart before it could splatter against the pavement. “What do you want to do to me?”
He stepped closer so our chests pressed together, sending whizzes of awareness from my nipples to my knickers.
“This.”
I had time to suck in a shallow breath as his dry, warm lips pressed against mine. Holy shit, I was kissing a stranger.
And it was good.
I couldn’t relax as his hand captured the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his other arm wrapped around my waist. He wasn’t shy about pressing me against his considerable hardness.
His lips turned fierce and didn’t wait for an invitation to invade. His tongue—sweet and minty—slipped into my mouth.
I’d never been kissed so possessively. He made me accept him, regardless if I wanted to or not.
A small frisson of panic tried to damper my lust. The way he held me made me want to struggle and surrender at the same time.
His arms banded tighter, crushing me against him. His mouth opened further, and I gasped as he kissed me violently. I writhed in his arms. Every part of me awake, horny, and utterly under his spell.
He was a complete stranger; he might be a serial killer for all I knew. But in that moment, I couldn’t care.
I threw myself into the kiss. Matching his pace, massaging his tongue with mine. His minty, dark taste excited me, and I hugged him back.
His tongue lapped my bottom lip as a growl rumbled in his chest.
Warmth spread through my stomach, down my inner thighs, and scorched between my legs.
I was nothing but heat. Delicious, branding heat.
It was red hot and undeniable, and waterfalled through me.
Mr. Worker-Man thrust against my hips as he sucked my tongue.
I let go, and revelled in the passion exploding inside.
There was no turning back.
I’d made my decision the moment the flyer stuck to my windshield.
I was going to the circus, and I would live out my fantasy.
I couldn’t catch enough oxygen as the man from Circotica guided me across the road. The woman in her sparkly, green leotard smiled. “Welcome. Do you have your medical results?”
I nodded and tried to be nonchalant as I pulled out the piece of paper detailing my every condition to a stranger in her spandex uniform. What was I doing? Not that it was embarrassing—I had nothing gruesome or contagious—but it was still an invasion of privacy in my mind.
The man who’d kissed me so thoroughly whispered in my ear. “It’s protection for our patrons. If you don’t want to use precautions, at least you know everyone is cleared of STD’s.” He trailed fingertips down my spine, sending oversensitive nerve endings into hyper drive. “Are you on the pill?”
My head swivelled in shock, eyes narrowed. Would I get used to how blasé everything about sex was with this troop? Sucking courage to talk so openly, I said, “Yes.”
He leaned over to kiss me. Lips feather-sweet on mine. “Good.” His purple eyes set fire to all my extremities. I’d made out with this man on a busy road, was entertaining the idea of letting him do who knew what to me, and I didn’t know his name.
The woman leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I’m Trudy Delane, and this is Carson Smith. Carson is co-owner, and makes sure every night tops the one before.”
Before I could brush away the sticky lipstick left on my cheek from her pouty lips, she handed me a clipboard. On it was a blank piece of paper and a pen.
“You’ve come to us, and we’ll do everything in our power to make your fantasies come true. But to do that, you need to tell us what you want.” Her teeth flashed in the exotic lights ringing the big-top. “I know it isn’t easy to talk about sometimes, so write it down. Take all the time you need.” She waved to a small alcove with a daybed, overflowing with purple and grey cushions. It looked as if a Maharaja would appear and make love to me in the splendour. I allowed Carson to push me toward the seating area.
I sat heavily, resting the clipboard on my knees. What exactly were my fantasies? I’d never written them down before. Who did? Did anyone put on their bucket list to have a threesome or be tickled to orgasms with an ostrich feather? Now, there was an idea—the threesome, not the tickling.
My eyes widened as I contemplated.
A threesome. That was common wasn’t it? It wasn’t freaky or weird. It’s not like I wanted to be locked in a cage and abandoned, or peed on, or any other cringe-worthy things. I wanted to be loved and pampered—adored. And having a ménage á trois would increase the pampering by double. Oh yes. I like that idea.
Carson smiled, his eyes shadowed under the small canopy of the sitting area. “Have you decided?”
My stomach clenched at the way his gaze burned me. Removing the last of my self-consciousness, freeing me of shyness.
I leaned in and kissed him.
It was his turn to suck in a breath, and happiness starbursted at the knowledge I surprised him. When I pulled away, I murmured, “I know what I want.”
Carson reached to run his thumb over my lips, eyes arching with purple heat. “And what do you want?”
His mouth parted as I leaned in. Now I’d committed to this, I was desperate to kiss him again. His lips whispered against mine, and I shuddered with longing. Tonight was going to be the best night of my life.
“I want you.”
He stopped kissing me; reclining, his fingers created circlets of sensation on my arms. “Just me?” His lips tugged into a devilish smile, even as his eyes flickered with what—was that disappointment?
Shit, was he annoyed I wanted him? Give me time to finish.
No inch of shyness held me back as I straightened my shoulders and looked behind him to the leotard wearing Trudy by the entrance. All around us hesitant people mingled, but most were in groups, or already paired. Trudy smiled back, winking. She was pretty, kind, and I wanted a professional. “I want a threesome.”
He chuckled. “Common, but I’m open. You sure that’s your ultimate fantasy?” His eyes followed mine to Trudy, and he sighed just a little. “With Trudy and me?”
Why did he have to go and make it sound like he did it every night? It wasn’t common for me. Shit, it had taken courage to figure out what I was here for, let alone admit it.
I opened my mouth to agree, disagree—I didn’t know. But a shadow caught my eye.
My heart threw itself into my throat.
I was right.
Noah was here.
Carson tensed beside me as my eyes followed Noah’s lanky frame weaving between the booths of bright purple and deep smoke. The Circotica was set up exactly like a children’s circus. The small games and attractions at the beginning beckoned for wasting money and sharing giggles. But the stuffed animals and other garish items to be won were R18 restricted. Whips, paddles, chains, and dildos all glittered in the bright steampunk fashioned lamps dotted around the small park. The entire perimeter of the Circotica was captured by a high black fence—it looked completely secure—nowhere for a peeping tom, or some reckless teenager to break in. What happened in Circotica stayed in Circotica.
Trudy smiled and tugged Noah’s arm when he came close. His face was taught, body strung tight and wired.
I frowned. Why did he come here if he looked as if he wanted to bolt? He rolled his elbow to release Trudy’s grip on him. He nodded once to something she whispered in his ear.
My inner thighs grew hot again as I thought about kissing him. Would he share his fantasy tonight? Which lucky person would he chose? I glared at all the provocatively dressed women slinking around; a blonde stopped to watch Noah, and my nails bit into my palms.
Carson kissed the shell of my ear, sending a hot breath down my neck. “I think I know what you want. And it isn’t Trudy.”
At that same moment, Noah’s hazel-green eyes met mine across the small space of foot-churned earth. I stopped breathing as his jaw slackened.
I froze. What should I do? Would he think me a hussy for being here or understand I was as curious as him? Why did I even care? It was none of his business.
Noah paused, head cocked as he stared back. Carson took my hand and tugged me upright. I went willingly, not quite sure how to use my limbs anymore.
Carson guided me toward the man I’d lived with for eight months but was a complete stranger. My feet tiptoed, balanced in their high heels, and my self-consciousness returned. Shit, this was a bad idea. What if he told everyone at work? They couldn’t fire me for being frisky, could they?
Noah swallowed hard when we stopped a breath away. His Adam apple bobbed as he tore his eyes from mine to Carson’s.
Carson grinned, sticking his hand out. “You having a good evening so far?�
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Noah didn’t need to answer—I knew. Nope.
Noah’s forehead furrowed, but he shook Carson’s hand before shoving it in his black jeans pocket.
He stared at me. “Linden. I thought you were going to bed.”
Did he not listen to me? Two could play at that game. I pierced him with my glare. “I thought you were going to work.”
Carson laughed, looking between us. “Oh, this is great.”
Noah and I both looked at him. I spoke first. “What do you mean?”
“You both want the same thing.” Oh shit, had Noah filled out the same blank piece of paper? Did he want a threesome, too? My eyes flickered to Trudy, and she took it as an invitation to join our little group.
“Noah here was just informing me of his fantasy,” she purred.
My heart sprinted. Would she tell me? If she did, did I want to know what my flatmate wished for? Would I look at him the same again?
Trudy whispered in Carson’s ear; he chuckled and stroked her forearm. My own skin reacted as if he touched me. It was such a simple touch, but damn it was erotic.
He broke from Trudy and bent to kiss my cheek. “You want a threesome, but you don’t want Trudy.” Speaking louder, looking at Noah, he added, “And you want to watch… and share at the same time.”
Oh shit.
Noah’s cheeks pinked, but he held his ground. “I didn’t know Linden would be here. I don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about sex with a colleague.”
My core twisted at the curtness in his tone. All my inhibitions flew away again, and my lips ached to kiss him. He wanted to share someone and watch at the same time. The thought sent my blood thickening and flowing like hot magma. I liked his idea. Together with mine it could be amazing. Was it any different having a threesome with two men instead of a man and a woman? After all, I’d be the centre of attention. Crap, I was having some great ideas tonight.
Carson wrapped an arm around Noah and did the same to me. The two men were similar height, but Noah’s carefully styled hair looked too perfect beside Carson’s rugged ‘I don’t give a fuck’ look. His scraggy chin-shadow called my fingertips to touch and trace. I wanted to kiss him again almost as much as I wanted to taste Noah.
