Carnival

by K. B. Nelson

  “Something like that,” I say and turn to walk away, making the most of the way my jean shorts curve around my ass.

  “Someday,” he hollers, “you’ll be mine again.”

  Someday. I’ve heard that a lot today.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Fifteen minutes before the fair is set to close, I find myself standing in line for the Zipper. In front of me are about ten teens, presumably out well past their curfew. The sign on the gate reads ‘No Singel Riders,’ misspelled and all. And here I am alone and ready to wrestle my single riding ass into one of those cages. I’m the last person in line so I’m hoping to get a free pass.

  The line begins moving as they load the delinquents into the cages two by two. Two carnies—one on the left and one on the right, each doing their job of latching their respective cages shut. The carnie who stands the furthest away from me has a nice little bubble butt. Can’t say much for the rest of the package as his back is turned to me. Certainly couldn’t be worse than the toothless meth head on my side. I consider switching lines out of concern that he would incompetently secure me in his allegedly high state. But, hey, danger’s part of the game.

  It’s my turn. I push the gate open and dart for the cage without making eye contact with the carnie. I multitask between shutting the cage myself and grabbing my seat belt. It would seem that I’ve succeeded in averting that stupid rule.

  “No single riders,” I hear him say.

  I try to think quickly for an appropriate response as the rugged carnie opens my cage and gives me a disapproving glare.

  “Nobody has to know,” I say with a toss of my shoulder.

  “I could lose my job,” he huffs.

  “Well,” I say and rub the back of my neck. “Why don’t you ride with me?” My hand caresses the seat beside me, inviting him in. And yes, I’m embarrassed by my own behavior.

  “No, ma’am.” His hand grabs the cage and rattles it. “Don’t trust these things.”

  That’s promising. I purse my lips. “Please?”

  “Fine.” He turns around and calls out to the other carnie. “Hey, get your ass over here. Got a pretty little thing that needs a partner.”

  Correct. In life, and in this damn cage. The other carnie latches his cage shut then turns around and—

  It’s Blue. How sweet of him to volunteer his time for the county fair. I wonder when he got off work. Why didn’t he call me? Oh, my God… Is he still at work?

  After that internal debate in my head, it hits me like a semi full of No shit. This is his work. He’s a carnie. Many things speed through my mind—My life has come to this; Even Chelsea Handler wouldn’t sink this low; What will I tell my mother?; I’ve never seen such beautiful blue eyes.

  So yeah, once again those fucking eyes have become decision-making factors. The mental battle is over, but I still haven’t snapped out of it.

  The steel cage door slamming shut and being locked into place pulls me back to reality—a universe where I’m now closer than I’ve ever been to this beautiful stranger. We sit shoulder to shoulder, our arms rubbing against each other.

  His lips rest on his teeth, grinning from ear to ear. He obviously isn’t aware of the thoughts writing themselves in my mind, and he’s definitely not ashamed of his profession.

  “I lost my phone,” he says to me.

  “Why did you lie when I asked if you worked here?”

  “I didn’t want to scare you away,” he says nonchalantly.

  That was probably smart of him, but I’m not sure what difference a few hours could make. I’m torn though—one part of me wants to do the dangerous thing and fuck him in the house of mirrors. The other part of me wants to throw open the cage and run because I’m better than that. I couldn’t be with Dylan because I wanted something different, something a little dangerous. But is Blue a little bit too much of both?

  All night I’ve been enamored with this perfect stranger, then a switch flips, and I’m torn between playful flirting and messy seduction. I don’t know if he actually wants either but since he’s a guy, I assume he’s at least down for the latter.

  “You wouldn’t have scared me away.” Fifty percent chance that’s a lie, fifty percent it’s not. Not even I am in the loop of what I want. It’s only been about three months since high school graduation and a little longer than that since my dad tore my family apart. In that space of unquestioned dreams and paralyzing fears, I’ve lost the person I was so sure I wanted to be. That uncertainty has carried over into the rest of my decisions like the nosy bitch that lives next door. Can I have a cup of sugar?

  “Is that right?” He lets out a relieved chuckle. “You must be a carnie chaser then.”

  “Yeah, they’re hard to resist.”

  “You know what I think, Charlie?”

  I turn to him. “What do you think, Blue?”

  He has a face full of intent, like he’s about to say something caught between sweet and philosophic. “I think the ride’s about to start.” His palms push against the roof. “No hands?”

  I get what he’s going for—that unrivaled thrill of riding a roller coaster with your hands in the air. That feeling when your innards float in all the wrong places. This isn’t exactly that, and it certainly isn’t no hands, but it’s a petty exchange of semantics that I’m not about to get into. I just put my palms to the roof and we’re off.

  * * *

  Blue’s hollering echoes everything I’m feeling on the inside. We flip forward and backward. For all intents and purposes, we flip sideways too—a physical impossibility without crashing to the ground, but sideways we go.

  One, two, three flips in a row. Reaching the top of the rotating axis, we’re flung upside down. It’s the moment where thrills reach the point of climax. The point in the ride when everything has lined up perfectly—the cage, the axis, and the chains. If that happens at the tip of the axis, then it feels as if you are being thrown into another world. At the very least, it feels like you’ve been thrown from the chains.

  Two minutes in this cage feels like a lifetime in seconds. Two minutes in this cage with Blue feels like being swamped by a thousand migrating butterflies. The childish grin on his face, in between shouts of ecstasy, argues with his strong, muscular body as we flip.

  We could lose a bolt with every flip and I probably wouldn’t notice. We could be one bolt away from breaking news and I wouldn’t be any the wiser. The cage could fly open, and I wouldn’t even know it until I woke up in hell.

  Blue turns to me with his palms still pressed against the roof. It’s magnetic, and I have no choice but to look right back. Neon lights swirl behind him, illuminating half his face at once. He’s just as perfect in the shadows as he is in the light. There’s something in those eyes—a lifetime of stories and I want nothing more than to go down the rabbit hole.

  Engines roar from the derby in the distance and just like the crashed-up cars there, I know what it feels like to be wrecked. This ride won’t last forever, and when it comes to a stop, I need to have made a decision.

  * * *

  He’s right behind me. I’m not running, but I’m not walking either. If I really wanted to, I could get away from him with ease. The fact that I haven’t means I’m still contemplating an illicit one night stand.

  We’re outside the fairgrounds and in the first of two fields. There are still hundreds of cars even though the fair has technically shut down—blame the congestion on the derby that is now well into overtime.

  “Charlie,” he yells. “Wait up.”

  The sound of his brisk footsteps against the dry grass morphs into a sprint as he runs to the front of me and turns around to face me. Walking backward while talking isn’t something I would attempt, especially not at the pace he’s maintaining.

  “I have to get home.”

  “Let me take you,” he says between ragged breaths.

  “I’m illegally parked.”

  “But you’re walking toward the field.”

  “That’
s where my car is…”

  His head tilts as if he’s confused. “How can you illegally park in a field?”

  That stops me dead in my lying tracks. My fingers run through my hair. “You caught me.”

  “I get the feeling that you’re trying to avoid me.” He shakes his head and gestures with his hand. “I can leave you alone if you want.”

  “You’re a great guy and you’re adorable,” I say. “And by adorable I mean hotter than Mars.”

  His cheeks blush and he grabs the back of his head. “So what’s the problem, then?”

  “I don’t know.” I swallow a breath. “We’re from two different worlds.”

  “I’m not trying to marry you…”

  “That’s good. You couldn’t afford a ring,” I say, cracking a grin.

  “You sure? I got a nice little savings account.” He moves in closer. “One of the perks of living out of a camper for nine months out of the year.”

  “A camper?” I say and push my body against him.

  “Yeah. It’s real comfortable.”

  I bite into my lip. “I bet.”

  And just like that, I’m sucked back in. I can’t control myself when it comes to him, and that’s not normal for two reasons—I’m always in control and hello, Don’t talk to strangers. It’s as if I can’t think rationally and it’s liberating.

  “I’d give you a tour, but it’s getting late and I’ve got a roommate.” His hand brushes against my waist. My tongue rolls across the inside of my lip.

  “I have to go home,” I blurt out and turn to walk away. I wipe the dampness off my forehead. Blue grabs me by the arm and spins me back around.

  “I want you to stay,” he says sternly. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  “Do you say that to all the girls?”

  “No,” he says. “I usually avoid all the other girls. They tend to be crazy, and not in a cute way.”

  I gaze into his eyes, trying to read him under the starlit sky. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Blue, remember? We met earlier today.”

  I can’t help but smile. He cups my chin with his palm, raising me up so that he can peek into my soul with his eyes. He comes in slow and presses his lips against mine. They’re even softer than I remember. He’s rough in places and smooth in others. Everything about him is a contradiction.

  Both his hands move to my cheeks, caressing them as we kiss. I grab him by the waist, pulling him closer to me. My hands rise to his chest, pushing him back so I can breathe.

  “Let’s go somewhere a little more private,” I say and grab his hand.

  I lead him through the field by his hand. We pass the last row of parked cars and cross into the second field. The field is mostly empty, and I can spot my car from a distance. It sits alone by a solitary tree.

  “Where are we going?” he asks.

  “To my illegally parked car.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Blue’s palms hold firm against my cheeks as we glide backward, our feet cycling through damp grass. His lips massage mine as we fumble through the dark, and I can’t help but think this would be the worst time in the history of my life to trip. My back meets the warm metal of the car door, and Blue pushes himself into me, pinning me to the Civic. My head tilts back as his head drops to my neck, mouthing a path to the bone in my chin.

  My back arches to the firm grip of his hand wrapping around me. His warm breath brushes against my ear, sending stray strands of hair into the darkness. I dig into his back, grabbing a fistful of damp, thin fabric. I push myself into him, craving the heat of his body on this humid night.

  The hardness in his jeans rubs against me.

  This has to be the quickest way to start a fire.

  His lips swell against my neck and the scent of musk and sweat is all too much. I sway my hips and grind against him, causing his whole body to tense up. His hand rolls into a fist against the glass of the car as if he’s trying to hold himself back.

  “Charlie,” he rasps. “I want you.”

  My hands fold against his chest, and I push him back so our eyes can tangle. He can say it all he wants, but I need to see that want in his eyes. Those blue beauties swarm with lust like the rolling clouds in the sky that have overtaken the starry night. There’s no use pretending anymore. No more pretending that I’m someone or something else, like I’m not about to be that girl who fucks a perfect stranger—a carnie—in the grass outside of a carnival.

  I give him a nod of assurance, but his entire body rests in place, his chest heaving. He’s not exactly taking the hint. “You can have me,” I say firmly.

  There’s a short pause before his lips are pressed against mine. It’s slow, gentle, and passionate. Then it’s quick and rough, and his tongue parts my lips. One hand crawls under my neon tank, navigating its way to my breasts.

  “You’re hot. We should get you out of these clothes.”

  A light chuckle rests in my throat.

  He stands back and grabs the bottom of my tank and in one lightning motion, rips it over my head and tosses it to the ground. I reach behind myself and unhook my bra. It rolls down my arms and drops to the ground. I catch his eyes on my breasts, and then, like a perfect gentleman, he looks away for a split second before facing me again.

  His eyes fill with desire and lock with mine as his arms cross each other, and he tugs his shirt from the hem and pulls it over his sculpted torso, then his head, cutting off my line of sight to his eyes. His slim, rock-hard abs are like Mount Rushmore with six presidents instead of four. He closes the distance between us, and my hands knead against the ridges in his stomach, feeling every dip and groove on his damp body. My head tilts forward, resting on his pulsing chest as his lips caress the top of my head.

  I prop my head up and shake my hair to the side before kissing him again. His fingers fumble with the button on my frayed jean shorts. Once the button has popped, my shorts slide down my legs and form a puddle on the ground. His muscular arms wrap around me and pick me up, wrapping my legs around his back and pushing me against the car. My breasts smash against his firm pecs as he heaves against me. His hardness pulses through his jeans, past ready for release.

  “I’ve never met anyone like you.” His warm breath fills the air around us. “I’ve never wanted someone the way I want you right now.”

  An arrow of lightning lights up the sky, turning everything around us blue.

  “Then what are you waiting for?”

  He takes a moment, nods, and in slow motion, we fall to the ground as a violent burst of thunder explodes in the near distance. The trodden grass is cool and damp against my back and I know there are two storms brewing—one in the sky and the other somewhere deep inside.

  Blue plants kisses down a path on my bare stomach as his fingers curl around the fabric of my panties, pulling them down my thighs and off my legs. My chest heaves as I look down to find him staring back at me. He keeps eye contact as he lowers his mouth against me. My body instantly stiffens, and my head is thrown backward against the grass.

  His tongue dances around the edge of me before driving in. My toes curl. My palms dig into the grass, grabbing a handful of dirt. Behind me, the last neon lights of the carnival power off.

  The heavy weight of his muscular body crawls over me, but he has one hand still running against me. He presses his lips to mine, but instead of a kiss, I give him a command. “Fuck me.”

  “Are you sure you wanna—”

  “Do you want me to change my mind?”

  He pulls himself onto his knees and unbuckles the brown leather belt around his jeans. A slick hand pulls a condom out of his pocket. He tears it with his teeth and pops a row of buttons, pulling the denim down his hips. The same for his stark black boxers, causing the full length of his cock to spring free.

  Another streak of lightning and another explosion of thunder booms as he rolls the condom onto himself.

  His body lowers onto me and one hand travels to his length, guiding himself in gentl
y. My back arches as he begins to fill me slowly and painfully. I hook my legs around him, firm against his ass as he sinks all the way in. Once he’s filled me entirely, we couldn’t possibly be any more connected, he kisses me softly, and I don’t need anything else.

  There’s a pained look on his face as he draws out slowly. My fingers dig into his back as he tortuously steals himself away from me. Once he’s at the edge of undoing me, he pauses and swivels on his knees. His breath is ragged as his body shakes. I sweep my palm against his flushed cheek.

  “Okay?” he asks under his breath.

  I nod.

  And he drives into me, filling me to the hilt. My vision goes black. An entire galaxy exploding is painted before my eyes. I pull him closer to me as he begins thrusting erratically. He’s not making love to me—he’s fucking me. And that’s exactly what I want. It’s what I’ve wanted even when I’ve been unable to say it.

  His breath quickens, and when I finally reclaim my vision, the only thing I see is his beautiful face full of ecstasy. Once he catches my eyes, his pace slows. He begins to sync to a more natural rhythm. Inch by devastating inch, with measured thrusts, he pulls every part of me to the surface. I’m turned inside out, and I wonder if he even notices.

  This right here is vulnerability. The way his body begins to quake, I imagine it’s the same for the both of us. His eyes pull tight, his mouth circles into a familiar shape. He’s close to the edge, and I’m not ready for this to be finished.

  His mouth lowers to me, the warmth of his ragged breaths brushing against my lips. “Come for me.”

  That’s new. I mean to nod, but I don’t think it comes across that way. I’m too busy holding onto his back, trying not to break. In order to save himself, he must switch tempo. I feel every changing beat as his rhythmic thrusts become drawn out. An inch becomes a mile. His cock pulls back, tight like a bow, and then slams back in. It’s fast and it’s slow. It is torture and pleasure beyond compare.

  My entire body cries out for release, perfectly timed with the earthquake beginning to rumble above me. I wonder if this is how Californians feel right before the plates shift. Helpless.