by Mina Carter
Table of Contents
Title Page
Claimed by the Blade
Thrill of the Night
Tori’s Secret
Hitting on the Hooker
Siren’s Seduction
About the Author
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Copyright 2014 Mina Carter
Cover Art by Mina Carter
Published by Blue Hedgehog Press: July 2014.
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Claimed by the Blade
by Mina Carter
She’d done it. After five long years, she was finally free.
Concealed by curtains just off the center ring area, Danica ignored the chatter beyond the canvas that told her the show was a sell-out—again—and swept an assessing glance down at her costume. Her lips quirked. Costume was perhaps a stretch. As the target-girl in the Sin Circus’ only knife-throwing act, it was less costume and more a bikini with sequins. Good thing she wasn’t self-conscious.
She had been, once upon a time, but her first, live show with her ex-husband, now known as “the bastard,” had cured her of that quick-smart. Nothing like a live, almost-sex show to cure a girl of any hang-ups about her body.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the ringmaster roared, the familiar voice pitched to carry over the hub-bub of the crowd. “There are some acts that are so dangerous, that require such skill, dexterity and accuracy, that they become the stuff of myth and legend. Our next act is one such act…”
Dani rolled her eyes a little at the theatrics and rolled her shoulders to keep limber and loose. Yeah, sure, their act was tough. It required skill, speed, and absolute trust, but she wouldn’t call it mythical or a legend. Not yet.
“…They say Blade was born with a knife in his hand, and that the youthful appearance he presents to the world has not changed in nearly a thousand years.”
She lifted her leg and clasped her ankle, stretching her quad out. Her partner, Luca, was young looking because he was young. And hot. Pre-requisites for a circus that contained as much sex on stage as actual performance. But that was what the customer paid for.
Sex sold. Always had, always would.
It was a bloody good thing it did. Selling sex and danger, or at least the illusion of sex, had enabled her to pay off the horrendous debts her ex had saddled her with. She couldn’t help the smile that crawled over her lips again. Debts that were now gone, the last payment made today.
She was a free woman.
“They say he has never missed his target, and that no man can stand against him when he has a blade in his hand. All we know is, he’s here tonight…and with his lovely wife, Danica, will prove to you the mysteries of the blade!”
The lilt at the end of the announcement caused an uproar, the crowd clapping and cheering. Ducking her head, she headed out in a light run, nimble and quick as she raced across the packed sawdust. The lights were blinding, but she didn’t try and look beyond them at the crowd.
Luca, her “husband” ran in from the opposite side, his body limber and as fast as hers as they met in the middle. In a move they’d practiced for hours, she fit a foot against his thigh just above the knee and put herself in his hands for the lift.
His long, dark hair swung around his shoulders, flattening on the side when he spun her up and around until she ended up perched on one broad shoulder. She smiled and waved at the crowd, no fear in her whatsoever as Luca stalked around the ring. His hand firm about her ankle, she knew he’d never drop her.
The crowd roared again, the sound almost deafening, impressed by the display of strength as she lay back across his shoulders and fell into the spin. It was part of their routine. The three-sixty around the shoulders, then he’d drop to his knees to allow her to step away. As she did, her trailing hand would catch the back of his shirt. The thin Velcro strips sewn into the seams allowed her to tear it clear, leaving him naked to the waist, all that glorious, ripped male flesh on display for the delight of the ladies.
Riiiiiipppp…
The fabric tore cleanly. She threw it to the side as the catcalls and cheers started. Luca lapped it up, his hands in the air and arms out-stretched to parade around the ring. She retreated to the middle, casting a quick glance over to the wheel to ensure all was laid out correctly before looking back at her partner.
When Rafe, her ex, had left her, he’d left a nasty surprise. Their business had bankrupt. She had to give it to him though, he’d made sure her name was on everything before he’d walked. She’d been too gullible to realize he wasn’t “trying to make sure she had assets in case anything happened.”
No, the bastard had covered his own ass—big time. He’d left her and Luca, their apprentice in his final year of training, in the lurch and almost homeless. Her teeth gritted as she clasped her hands loosely in front of her.
With Rafe gone, the two of them had still needed to eat, and leaving the circus wasn’t an option. Brought up in the circus life, neither of them had any experience for working in the outside world, so their only choice had been to knuckle down and run the act, with Luca in her ex-husbands place.
When they’d first gone solo, Luca’d been a kid. Nineteen years old to her twenty-nine. It was a mere ten years, but felt like centuries. She’d been so worried about him hurting himself lifting her, and the more…sensual part of their act—hell, she didn’t think her blush had gone away for months—but needs must when the devil drove. She’d expected their act to last less than a month. Somehow, miraculously, they’d pulled through. Luca was twice the knife-thrower Rafe had ever been, and unlike his trainer, had never once dropped or cut her.
Relaxing now that she’d done the visual check, Dani allowed her gaze to wander over her partner. Tall and broad-shouldered, with shoulder-length dark hair and the deepest brown eyes, she already knew Luca was stunning. So did most of the female population of the circus, the twittering teens always gathered around him when he trained outside their two trailers, and the women casting more circumspect glances out of the corners of their eyes as they passed by. He knew better than to mess around on his own doorstep, so he always focused on his training. Rain or shine, he was out there with the weights, or using body-resistance exercises.
He turned, and she blinked as a very feminine shiver whispered through her. Somehow, somewhere along the way, little Luca had grown up. He wasn’t the gangly youth he had been when they’d started out, but a man full grown.
Naked to the waist, the lights around the ring threw the hard plains of his chest and cobblestone abs into high relief. Unlike some of the guys, she knew he wasn’t tensing to get that definition. Wi
th the amount they trained, and the amount of time he spent exercising, it was all natural. His face was obscured by his mask, but that only added to the edge of danger, as did the blades in the knife belt strapped around his waist.
Crap, when had he grown up so damn fine?
Her professional smile plastered over her lips, she hopped up to pose on the wheel of death. The same routine as always… Arm up, hip out to show the curve of her waist and what little cleavage she had. Petite and slender, she didn’t have the curves she envied on some of the other girls, but out here it didn’t matter. Out here it was about speed and strength. Curves didn’t help a girl when the blades were in the air, but agility and dexterity did.
Her moves were slick and practiced and in perfect time with the heavy beat of the music as it slowed down to become more sensual.
Eyes fixed on her, Luca stalked across the ring.
It was part of the act, all part of the act.
She chanted the refrain in the back of her head, but it didn’t help. From not noticing him as a man before, now that was all she could see.
His eyes glittered behind the mask, and for a horrible moment, she was sure he could read her thoughts, sense the heat rolling through her veins and the dampness gathering between her thighs as her pussy signaled its eagerness to play all sorts of adult games with this grown-up version of Luca.
Gathering herself, she glared at him as he hopped up onto the other side of the wheel. Her character started as the haughty woman seduced by the Blade’s advances, but not too quickly. They moved in opposition to each other, the steps of the dance as familiar to her as her own heartbeat.
She turned away from him, her nose in the air and acted disinterested when she was anything but. The wheel moved slightly under her feet as he stormed across the small platform. His breath hot across her neck was the only warning she got before he grabbed her arm and swung her around.
Gasping, she played into her role, resisting him with over-blown gestures while he dragged her closer to all that hot, hard muscle. Any moment now, he would throw her from him to the surface of the wheel, and pluck the knives from his belt.
Any moment now… Her eyes widened as he did the last thing she expected.
He lowered his head and claimed her lips.
*
Oh God, she tasted like every one of his dreams. Every single one.
Luca groaned in the back of his throat, but forced himself to break the kiss after the barest contact. Wrapped up in his arms, Dani looked up at him, shock written on her face. But she hadn’t pulled away.
Smothering his grin of triumph, he smoothed his hand over the back of her hips, perilously close to grabbing a handful of that luscious ass, and then stepped away. He caught her hand as he did so, another departure from their routine, to kiss it before he spun on his heel.
Pulling three blades from the sheaths at his waist, he held his breath while he juggled them and waited for her to pick up the routine. He hadn’t thrown her to the floor this time, but she dropped to her knees anyway. Sucking a breath in as her small hands encircled his thighs, he concentrated on keeping the knives in the air. Higher and higher the perfectly balanced blades danced, catching the lights all around them as Dani rubbed her cheek along his leather clad thigh. Beseeching and beguiling, now she played the repentant woman begging for her Lord’s pardon.
He kept his eyes dead ahead when she moved around him, twining her body around and through his legs to kneel in front of him. Tried to anyway. As always, his gaze flickered down, just once, and the sight of her on her knees in front of him, those soft lips on a level with his crotch hit him in the gut. His cock punched to full mast within the tight confines of the leather.
He’d always managed to keep control before, even in the beginning, not wanting to rouse his old teacher’s wrath for lusting after his wife, and then when Rafe had left them in the lurch, left her with so many problems, it hadn’t seemed right. She’d had enough to deal with, without having to deal with the horny teenager he’d been. His lips quirked when she started, obviously clocking the hard-on in his pants, and shot a glance up at his face.
But that was then, he reminded himself, and this was now. He was still horny, but now her ex was long gone, and Luca wasn’t a teenager, or an apprentice anymore. He was Blade and she was his woman…on stage anyway.
Before the end of the night, she’d be his for real.
His shoulders moved, sending the blades high before he let them fall. They hit the wooden platform around the two of them with a resounding thud, one echoed by the crowd in the darkness beyond the lights. The audience fell quiet in silent awe at the placement of the blades, one right between Dani’s outstretched fingers.
He didn’t wait around, falling to his knees for the next part of their act. Reaching out, he hooked a finger around her jaw and drew her face around to look at him. Questions crowded into her eyes, a beguiling mixture of blue and violet, and a rush of heat and tenderness swept over him. Surely she’d realized how he felt about her?
Even as the thought hit, he knew she hadn’t. Focused wasn’t the word for Danica. He’d never met anyone so determined to succeed even when life had handed her a shitty card. Despite everything, she’d looked after them, looked after him when he had nowhere else to go, even to the point of refusing offers from other acts so they could stay together.
Now she didn’t have to struggle, didn’t have to look after him. Not anymore. Instead, he wanted to look after her.
Sliding an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, his embrace dominant as he bent her backward. She went easily, dropping her head back to expose the line of her throat. Utter trust as she put herself in his hands. In his arms. It was part of the act, and not, at the same time.
Instead of merely whispering his lips over the skin of her throat, he kissed her. A groan built in his chest. His hand at the back of her neck and shoulders held her securely, so that he could trail butterfly kisses—real kisses not the pretend ones he’d always used before—down the satin expanse offered to him. She started a little, but he held her still for the first few, and by the time he reached the base of her throat, she was pliant in his arms, her body relaxed.
Dipping his tongue into the tiny hollow between her collarbones, he fought back the fire running through his body. She was tiny, so light and delicate he’d always been nervous of hurting her. Especially now. After five years of wanting her, he wasn’t sure he could be gentle. If she wanted it gentle though, he’d do it, even if it killed him. He’d give her anything she wanted, up to and including his soul.
Caught in the spell of holding her in his arms, he shifted and lifted her into his lap. Again, it was a normal part of their routine, but this time he held her that little bit closer. His arm clamped over the back of her hips as she sat upright, looking down at him as she settled against him. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and the sexy little gasp she gave as she felt his solid erection almost did him in.
Tension swirled between them, picked up by the crowd, a hum of anticipation and excitement welling up in the darkness. She didn’t say anything, not that he expected her to. No talking during the act, so he held her, allowing her to feel him through the leather.
Darkness flooded her eyes, and he was caught. His arms bunched, the muscles clenched as he fought the urge to push her down onto the platform and take her there and then. No one would think anything of it. Hell, it would probably improve their ratings.
Leaning back, he used his body-weight as a counter balance to hers, his head dropping back for a second so he could regain his composure. No matter what the other acts did, he wasn’t taking her for the first time with an audience.
But fate conspired against him, and her small hands crept up from his ribs over his chest. The smallest of strokes, but one filled with exploration. The breath he sucked in was hard and ragged. One to fuel the inferno of need inside as much to fill his lungs. Hell, who needed to breathe anyway?
Surging into motion, he ca
rried her over and down to the sanded wood—the sex part of the act, but this time more real than it had ever been. He parted her thighs with one of his and settled between them, reaching out to capture her wrists. Holding them above her head, he moved over her. Tonight though, he dropped his hips more to press against her, rather than just pretend.
His hair fell about his face, curtaining his expression while he tensed his shoulders and rocked his hips. Rubbing against her, he moved in an age old dance that had the crowd around then hollering and shouting crude suggestions. He ignored them in favor of watching her.
Tonight, all her practiced expressions were gone. The naked, vulnerable look in her eyes grabbed hold of his heart, and then extended its reach down to his cock and balls, squeezing until he was so hard it was fucking painful. All he wanted to do was reach down and rip the fly of his pants open, pull her costume to the side, and bury himself where they both needed him to be.
Instead, he held her gaze, watching what every movement he made did to her, and letting her see the effect of the same on him. His body hummed with tension, cock aching where it was trapped in his pants. He was lucky they were lace-fly or he’d have a permanent tattoo of the damn zipper along his dick.
But he didn’t care. Didn’t care that his balls were probably blue. He had his woman under him finally, and the soft, aroused look in her eyes told him she wasn’t opposed to his touch. Anything but.
Temptation got the better of him. Bracing on his hands, he lowered over her, until her breasts pressed against his chest, and claimed her lips again. Stilling the movement of his hips, he nibbled at her closed lips, begging entry. His heart stilled, worry threading through him for a moment, until she sighed and parted her lips, opening for him.
With a growl he surged forward, deepening the kiss with a hard sweep of his tongue. If one chaste kiss had been heaven, this was… He had no words, no concept at all, capable of describing it. A hard shiver rocked down his spine when he stroked his tongue along hers. He didn’t tease or tempt, but demanded…needed…her response. He’d needed it for years. Years of watching her and waiting. Years of rubbing his cock raw to thoughts of her after each and every show.
