Carnival

by D. M. Thornton

  With a forceful jerk, I open the door to the bathroom, startled by Piper standing in front of me with her hand balled into a fist ready to knock. The rush I get when I see her is the same as the first day I met her, like fireworks exploding inside me. The tingles across my skin never fade when I’m around her, strong and euphoric. I don’t want it to stop. Ever.

  There is plenty of time for talking. Words are empty and get in the way. Actions, well, actions speak a thousand languages, holding more meaning than any spoken word. I’ll spend the rest of my life showing Piper how much I love her.

  The step between us is short and when I reach out to take Piper’s face, she grabs my ears first and we pull at each other until our lips smash together. I drop my hands to her waist and push her backwards as I walk us into my room, slamming the door shut with my foot. It doesn’t take much effort to hoist Piper up and toss her on to the bed. And as I’m positioning myself on top of her, Piper is tugging at the waist of my pants.

  Her hand flattens against my abs, not holding me off but applying enough pressure to make me lean away from her mouth.

  “I’m not sure if I said it out loud last night or if it was only in my head, but I love you, too, Oliver. I do. I love you,” Piper says.

  To hear those words, again, is like experiencing the heavens opening up and the choir of angels belting out the most beautiful song ever heard.

  Piper’s lips are on mine, her kiss igniting my skin while fingers latch on to my waistband, sending a twitch to every nerve in my body. My brain is flushed with thoughts of manners at the worst possible time. Am I hurting her? Are we moving too fast? Having sex wasn’t what I meant when I said I would spend my whole life showing her how much I love her. And right now, I’m not being a gentleman and should stop while we’re ahead.

  My hair is grasped and tugged, and my head snaps back. Shocked, I’m looking down at Piper with a raised brow and a smirk. I like it rough.

  “Stop overthinking, for crying out loud, and kiss me like you mean it.”

  There’s my girl, feisty and bossy and manhandling me like a boss.

  “You just pulled my hair.” I snort out a laugh.

  “I did.” She waves a hand in front of my face. “Whatever is going on in here needs to leave.” Her finger points to her face. “Concentrate on this, because this right here wants all of this.” Her hand motions over my whole body then lands on my chest, right over my heart. “Are you with me?”

  I nod. “I’m with you.”

  I’m moving through the motions of removing articles of clothing, but I’m having a hard time getting out of my head. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. What if I can’t give her what she needs? I refuse to make any more empty promises. What if I can’t measure up to who she thinks I am? Damn, what if she gets tired of me and my antics? Fuck. And now I’ve talked up my game in the sack, I’ve psyched myself out. What if I can’t perform enough to satisfy her?

  Piper’s hand slides down my chest to the waist of my pants, slipping under the waistband. All my struggling thoughts disappear when she grabs my solid length. It twitches in her hand, and I have to jerk my hips back to avoid exploding.

  Fuck me.

  My attention is solely on Piper. The taste of her lips, the curves of her body. This moment is one I have dreamt of for so long. To be given the chance to explore her wonderland is like winning every award at the Grammy’s. I don’t take such task lightly and travel the mounds and valleys with the utmost care and respect.

  Her body is a shrine, a temple of holiness I take time to worship. Kissing and licking and caressing. As her body reacts to my touch, pulsing and liquefying beneath my tongue, my flesh tingles with every one of her moans. Cause and effect at its finest.

  Piper’s back arches off the bed as I savor her core, lapping my tongue along the seam before circling the magic button. When her legs begin to quiver and her hands lock around my hair, I know she’s close. But she puts her heels on my shoulders and pushes me away and grabs at my arms, pulling me up her body.

  Her breaths are short and winded. “I need you.”

  “I need you, too.” I nuzzle the space between her chin and collarbone, nipping the vein running along her neck.

  “Inside me, Oliver. I need you inside me.” She’s panting, grinding her hips against me for friction.

  Who am I to deny her? I rest on my forearms, planking over her. “I’m going to go slow. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  By the look on her face, she thinks I’m being funny, exaggerating my size. Until the head of my cock presses against her opening. Piper’s eyes widen and she gasps at my entrance.

  “You okay?” I ask, progressing slowly.

  Piper inhales a breath at the same pace as my stride, exhaling with an audible gulp when I fill her completely. “Yeah,” she whispers, the faintest smile curving her lips. “Okay. I’m okay.” Her words stammer out of her mouth.

  The last thing I want is for Piper to feel as if I’m ripping her in two. Every movement is calculated, slow and steady. Piper has something else in mind. She wraps her legs around me, her heels digging in to the dips in the sides of my ass. And her fingernails claw my lower back, causing my muscles to tighten and my cock to slam into her wall. She cries out.

  I start to pull back to give her some relief, but she pins me inside her, locking her ankles together. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

  Her slick canal is her only saving grace against the constant ramming of my hips. With her pleas to keep going, I don’t hold back, thrusting until I’m on the brink of losing my wad. “Piper.” Her name puffs from my mouth. I can’t go before her, that would be a dick move, so I think of something else, willing myself to keep it together. Just. A. Few. Minutes. Longer.

  Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long. Piper’s breathing quickens, borderline frantic. Her pussy contracts around my shaft, and her nails slice into my shoulders as she comes hard around my cock. Her release is my cue to let go. The buildup of my orgasm spills out of me, overflowing down Piper’s thigh.

  “Fuck.” Already I’m a careless fool. I rest my forehead against Piper’s. When her lips touch mine, I open my eyes to stare into hers.

  “Hi.” Piper grins.

  “Hi.” I can’t help but smile back. She’s not even mad I came inside her. “Sorry,” I apologize anyway.

  She wraps her arms around my neck. “Don’t be.” Then plants her lips on mine.

  Thirty Two

  Piper

  To: keri.lang@lifestylesmag.com

  From: piper.posey@lifestylesmag.com

  Subject: What the hell is love anyway?

  What is love, does anyone really know? Is it a starry look across the room? A simple touch on the arm? Is it a lingering kiss or the firm hug from strong arms? Maybe it’s taking out the trash, mowing the lawn, or writing you a song. Is love the feeling of fluttering wings in your belly, or the best damn orgasm of your life? The truth is, love is obscure. It’s complicated and fickle, changing with the tide, ever evolving with our own wants and needs. It has layers, some good, some bad. But even when it is at its worst, love is pure. Forgiving. Love does not judge, unbiased and free.

  It is easy to love, isn’t it? I love the ocean, animals, and chocolate cake. I love sunsets on the beach and snowcaps on mountains. There are so many magnificent things on this earth to love. And we love them because they make us feel good. We all want to feel good.

  Is that all love is, a feeling? Happiness and warmth? Tingles and goosebumps? I suppose it’s different for each of us. For me, it’s the shiver I get when you take the tip of your finger and run it up and down my skin, or how your hugs make me feel safe. It’s your strong arms and your gentle heart. Love is how thoughtful you are, bringing it old school with standing on the side closest to the street so I don’t get hit by a car, and opening doors for me. It’s the way I feel nervous when you look at me as if I’m the only person in a crowded room. When my heart quickens and my belly flips from your kiss. I
love hearing you say the words, “I love you.” But I love how you show me more. Carrying me on your back after a night in the emergency room, or giving me your jacket so I can be warm. It’s in the simple way you remember every detail and quirk about me and still finding me beautiful. Loving you is like jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, a terrifying rush full of excitement and adrenaline. With you, I live in the moment, and I have never felt more alive. I never want it to end…

  **To my loyal readers** What is your definition of love? Share with me your love stories on Facebook.

  “You about ready?” Oliver sneaks up behind me, kissing my neck.

  I hit send, emailing my editor this week’s column for review, leaning into Oliver’s kiss. “Just finished.”

  Thankfully, I still have a job after disappearing for a week. The first call I made from the car to the airport was to Mr. Mynbock. He gave me shit, yelling at me through the phone, but Fletcher took over the conversation and explained everything. It took some sweet talk, but Mr. Mynbock settled down enough for me to inform him I needed yet another week off in which he huffed and puffed in my ear.

  “Dammit, Piper, I need you here. I need your column,” he chomped at me.

  “I’m sending you a piece right now.” I emailed the Crossroads draft the second we hung up.

  It kept Mr. Mynbock quiet for a long minute, but I’m behind and his emails have been reminding me daily. With sending Keri, What the hell is love anyway?, I have officially caught up on my slack, and now Mr. Mynbock can get his panties out of the bunched up twist between his flabby ass. Besides, I’ll be back in the office next week.

  After Kansas City, we spent a glorious night in Philly where Milo Creed and the Gentlemen’s Club played to a sold out show. Luna and I watched from the front row, screaming and swooning over our men so loud we lost our voices. And when we got back on the tour bus, Oliver and I locked ourselves in his room. To not be touching is too much distance between us. We want no space between our bodies and utilize the time we’re given to meld together as one.

  We’ve been doing a lot of running, ducking, and hiding from paparazzi. Getting a glimpse of the fast life Oliver, Hamlin, and Nash live day in and day out has me wondering how I’m ever going to keep up. But I find, for Oliver, it’s worth the constant look over my shoulder. I’m sure I’ll get used to it, or at least adapt to the lifestyle eventually.

  The last show on the tour was last night in Boston. After the guys finished signing, Oliver and I decided to jump a red-eye flight back to L.A. while everyone else opted to road trip it back home on the tour bus. This way, I could be sitting at my desk at eight o’clock sharp on Monday morning.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, touching the blindfold over my eyes.

  Oliver smacks my hand away. “Keep it on. No peeking.”

  “You’re making me car sick,” I complain.

  “Just another minute and we’ll be there.”

  The car slows to a roll and we crawl over a few speed bumps before we come to a complete stop.

  “Keep it on until I tell you to take it off. Got it?”

  “I got it.” But my words are lost when the car door slams shut.

  I’m tempted to lift the bottom of the blindfold to take the tiniest peek, but my door opens and Oliver takes my hand to help me out of the car. I’m expecting my senses to clue me in on where we are. I sniff at the air and listen. It’s quiet. My eyes and nose aren’t giving anything away.

  Wait, if I strain enough, I think I may be able to hear waves crashing in the distance. They sound closer each step we take. Oliver has me by the elbow, leading me through my darkness. We walk forever before Oliver says, “Hold on a second, Pipe. I’m going to go first.” He takes both my hands. “There’s a step right here.”

  I lift one foot and feel around for the step then, with Oliver’s help, climb up, stumbling into his chest. He takes my clumsiness as an opportunity to wrap me in a hug and kisses the top of my head. “Here, take a seat.”

  Oliver turns us in a half circle and sits me down into a chair.

  “Whoa.” My breath catches in my throat when we’re rocked backward. We’re not in a chair. I lift my hands and feel around, catching the bar in front of me. I hold on tight, gripping the bar until my knuckles hurt. “Oliver.” My voice is shaky.

  He wraps his arm around my shoulders. “You’re okay, little bird. I got you.”

  Our seat continues to climb higher and the sensation of falling enhances with the blindfold on. It’s making me anxious. “Oliver, I’m starting to freak out a little.”

  His arm pulls me in tighter against him. “Just one more second.”

  The sudden stop has the seat swinging back and forth and I yelp. “Ohmygod.”

  Oliver laughs.

  “Why are you laughing?” I ask, feeling for Oliver’s thigh and squeezing.

  He presses his lips to my cheek. “Do you know how much I love you?” he whispers in my ear.

  “I’m starting to question your idea of love.”

  “Then let me show you.” Oliver slips the blindfold off my eyes.

  I blink against the setting sun, my eyes focusing on the pastel burst of colors through the cotton candy clouds. I gasp back tears when I realize where we are. We’re sitting high on the Ferris wheel in the middle of an empty carnival.

  My voice trembles when I ask, “Where is everyone?”

  “I wanted this place all to ourselves. To bring you back to where it all started.”

  My head tilts and rests on Oliver’s shoulder. “I hope it ends better than it did the first time,” I tease, darting a glance up at him with a smirk.

  He pecks my lips. “I have a feeling it will.”

  I sit up. “Oh. How so?”

  Oliver’s smile spreads wide, reaching his eyes, and he points down.

  The thought of looking towards the ground makes me queasy, but I’m curious as to why I’m hearing music. When I follow his finger, I see nothing.

  The music grows closer, the sound amplified by the speakers throughout the park. Goosebumps pepper my skin when Oliver begins to sing. Being serenaded on top of a Ferris wheel in the middle of an empty carnival is uber romantic. I can’t help but smile and melt into him.

  I’m drawn into the lyrics, unfamiliar with the song. And by the chorus, tears are streaming down my cheeks. If I ever need to remember what love is, I will think of this moment and the words Oliver is singing.

  My little bird you came home to me

  I’ve waited so long, you don’t know the hell I’ve seen.

  Life without you is impossible

  Please don’t leave now, I’ll never make it on my own.

  My little bird say you’ll stay

  Marry me, little bird, let’s do it today.

  Let me be the one to love you, I can be that man

  I can be the good one if you love me the way I am.

  I’ve been so enamored by Oliver, my eyes never leave him. It’s not until the music stops and he looks down that I follow his gaze. Sobs pour out of me, and I cover my mouth to try and muffle the sound. On the ground are Luna and Nash, Hamlin, and my parents. Each of them are holding a sign that asks,

  Will You Marry Me?

  If I wasn’t in this rocking death trap of a cart, I would be mauling Oliver right now. But, instead, I’m trying to cry without my whole body shaking. In slow movements, I pull Oliver’s face to mine and kiss his lips. “Yes.”

  “Why you gotta go and ruin my moment. I haven’t even asked you yet.” He smirks.

  I giggle, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “Sorry. Proceed.” I bite my lower lip, desperately wanting to ask him if we could take this down to the ground so I don’t have a panic attack, but I don’t. The pure bliss on his face is enough for me to suck up my fear of heights for another moment longer.

  Oliver takes my hands in his, rubbing the tops with his thumbs. He’s suddenly nervous, so I lean in to touch his mouth with mine. His tongue licks away my kiss with a playful gri
n. “You make loving you so easy.”

  My head bows as if I’m shy.

  “My mom always told me the day we met I came home from preschool and told her I met the girl of my dreams. After the first day in kindergarten, I told her I was going to marry you. And each year after that, until we graduated, I professed my unwavering love for you every time she asked me how my day was. Her response was always the same. ‘Treat her right, son. A girl deserves a good man. Be that good man.’ My mother never had the love of someone who loves so deeply, as much as I love you. I was afraid I couldn’t be what you needed, but I know now, that with you by my side, I am the best version of myself. I can be that man for you. I can be good and devoted, and gentle.” He wipes at his forehead with his forearm and puffs out a breath. “Boy, it’s really hot up here, isn’t it? Would you mind if we took this down to ground?”

  I smile, relieved to get my feet on a solid surface. I nod. “I would love that.”

  With a wave of his hand, the Ferris wheel jerks forward and we begin our descent. When the ride stops, Oliver helps me off and I’m immediately smothered by the hugs of Luna and our parents. Oliver clears his throat to break up our huddle of tears. When I turn around, he’s on one knee, his arm reached out in front of him, holding a small black velvet box.

  A mix of tears and laughter force me to cover my face with my hands when Oliver opens the box. Seeing the plastic blue ring, straight out of a Cracker Jack box, has me dropping to my knees in front of him. I throw my arms around Oliver’s neck and kiss is whole face, mumbling, “Yes,” until I he shuts me up by covering my mouth with his.