Roustabout
Page 24
The bed of pine needles was soft beneath us, and I laid back, my hands stroking over Tucker’s warm skin and muscled shoulders.
His eyes were heated as he hovered over me, his breath rapid, his mouth slightly open.
I licked his throat, tasting salt on my tongue, and his body trembled.
And then all his attempts to be slow and gentle fell apart.
With a frenzied growl, he tore open my jeans and assaulted my mouth with hot, hard kisses. My nails raked down his back, making him hiss as he dove in deeper, possessing my mouth.
I palmed him over his jeans, feeling the heavy heat as his dick throbbed under my hand. He ground his body into me, his eyes wild.
When my jeans snagged on my sneakers, I thought he was going to burst with frustration, but instead he hooked his arm around my waist, depositing on my knees. Satisfied with my position, I heard the jingle of metal as he unbuckled his belt and sheathed his dick.
“This is going to be hard and fast, sugar,” he muttered, his voice tight.
“God, yes!” I whispered.
And then he rammed into me and we rutted like wild animals, hot and thrilling and intense.
And when I came, I called out his name and tears pricked my eyes.
And when he came, his hot breath whispered, “Tera.”
And when we lay together after, his hands and lips were drawn to my body, refusing to leave me for even a second.
And when we made love again, under the endless stars, the pink and yellow Ferris wheel lights glowing in the distance, I finally understood what Aimee was talking about—the carnival was truly magical.
Even though I hadn’t seen Tucker for two weeks, there was no chance of enjoying sleeping in and catch-up sex. Instead, I’d been woken by the insistent thump of a headboard against the paper thin walls as my brother proceeded to fuck Aimee, very thoroughly, judging by her increasingly loud moans.
Tucker opened one eye and grinned at me.
“That’s nothing—we can take them, sugar. Easy,” and he trailed his callused fingers down my stomach.
I grabbed his hand quickly.
“I don’t think I can—not if everyone’s going to hear!”
He laughed drily. “No one will hear.”
“How can you say that?”
He started stroking my stomach, drawing slow circles around my bellybutton.
“Because that’s the way we do it here: no one hears anything, no one sees anything and no one says anything. The RV is our castle, sugar.”
“My brother is right next door!” I hissed, as the banging and moaning got even louder.
“Trust me, TC. He’s too busy to notice,” and Tucker’s fingers slid up the inside of my thighs.
I clamped my legs together, trapping his hand.
“I can’t!” I repeated.
Disappointed, Tucker rolled onto his back. And that’s when I noticed that he was 100% hard and erect, the veins on his shaft standing out.
As he followed my gaze, he looked at me half hopeful, but then sighed as I shook my head, and he rolled out of bed, searching for a towel.
“Wanna join me in the shower?”
That sounded more promising. Running water would cover up any . . . noises.
“Okay, I’m in!”
Tucker grinned, but before we could move, we both heard Zef’s voice right outside as he called out an obscene greeting to Ollo. Then he banged on Tucker’s door.
“Get the hell up, you lazy bastard! Walk-through in ten!”
I looked at Tucker hesitantly. “Maybe later.”
“Aw, he’s just ornery ‘cause he isn’t getting’ any. Come on, sugar.”
I shook my head. “No, you’ve got to eat and get to work.”
Tucker’s grin wilted. I kneeled up and pressed a promissory kiss to his soft lips that did nothing to help his erection that strained between us.
“We’ve got the whole night ahead of us,” I whispered. “I don’t want to wear you out before your big comeback.”
“Something to look forward to,” he said with a wink.
Then he grabbed the towel and held it in front of him but didn’t bother wrapping it around his waist before he left the room. He must have reached the bathroom a second before Aimee because I heard her yelling at him.
“Tucker! How many times do I have to tell you? I do not want to see your butt before breakfast!”
“Aw, you love my butt, you just won’t admit it.”
And then the bathroom door slammed.
“A gentleman would let a lady shower first!” she shouted.
“I would if I knew one,” he called back.
She stomped into the living area, grumbling quietly.
Tucker was back in the bedroom in seconds, water dripping all over the floor, the towel covering his dick and nothing else.
“You might wanna get in there before . . .”
But then we heard the bathroom door slam and the shower started again.
Tucker gave me a rueful smile.
“Shouldn’t be too long.”
I smiled back weakly, somewhat desperate to pee.
Tucker kissed me firmly then pulled on a pair of ragged shorts and running shoes.
“You don’t want to miss out on Aimee’s breakfasts—they’re awesome.”
It was another ten minutes before I could get in the shower behind Aimee, Zef and Kes. The relief when I finally had a chance to pee!
It was only the second time in my life that I’d shared a bathroom—the other being my first year in college when I lived in a dorm. But even though I washed a gazillion times quicker than normal, everyone had finished their food as I hurried in to breakfast, only Tucker was still at the tiny table, with Aimee feeding pieces of banana to Bo.
“Damn, Aimee! I love your banana pancakes, woman!”
Bo seemed to agree as he snatched one from the pile in the middle of the table and scampered off shrieking.
Tucker grinned at Aimee while shoveling the last vast piece into his mouth, syrup smearing his chin.
A sharp spike of jealousy shot through me. I didn’t have an act and I couldn’t cook. I couldn’t do anything useful here.
Then Tucker gulped down his coffee, kissed me quickly, his tongue warm and sweet and tempting, before quite literally running out the door.
Aimee raised her eyebrows.
“He seems happy. Well, Tucker always seems happy, but today . . .” and she reached out to squeeze my hand. “You make him happy.”
“Do you think so?”
She stared at me quizzically. “You really can’t see it?”
“See what?”
“That man is crazy about you.”
I smiled. “I know he’s crazy, but . . .”
“No ‘but’ about it.”
I hesitated to ask the question that was burning on my tongue; it just seemed too needy.
Aimee cocked her head on one side. “What?”
“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m asking this . . . but has Tucker . . . ?”
Her smile twisted to one side. “You want to know about other women?”
“Women? As in . . . plural?”
“No! No, I didn’t mean that at all. I told you—he’s reformed. And it’s not like he hasn’t had offers . . .”
“You’re talking about Jade.”
“Oh, you know about her?”
“Well, she made it pretty obvious last night.”
Aimee looked away. “He hasn’t hooked up with her since he came back from San Francisco. I don’t mean to upset you—he’s turned them all down. For you.”
Her wording was careful and I wondered if she meant more than she was prepared to say out loud. I shook my head: I was being paranoid.
“Thank you for telling me that,” I said sincerely. “But I don’t think Tucker is the type to cheat on me . . .” Not after what he went through with Renee. “He’d just tell me it was over and smile.”
Aimee raised her eyebrows. “I can’t see that happening anytime soon.�
��
But one day?
She loaded pancakes onto my plate and we chatted over her delicious food and strong coffee. I really liked Aimee, but I wasn’t ready to discuss my feelings about Tucker with her—not until I knew what they were myself. When he left San Francisco, I thought I’d been pretty clear how I felt, but now being at the fairground and seeing Tucker’s happiness radiating off of him, his joy in being able to perform stunts again, everything was more confusing.
I offered to clear up after breakfast, but Aimee said I was a guest and should just enjoy myself.
That was easier said than done. Everyone was busy. The carnies were getting ready for their working day, checking rides, feeding the horses, restocking games on the midway. Even the kids had their designated jobs. I was the only one on vacation. This was the machine behind the fantasy: hard, gritty work.
I wandered over to sit in the grandstand, watching Tucker and Kes pace over the ground, studying the ramps, concentrating hard. I didn’t want to distract them, especially when they were going to perform tonight, but waiting around for Tucker made me feel like the nerdy high school girl pining for the quarterback. Pathetic.
When he saw me, Tucker waved and jogged over.
“Hey, sugar.”
He kissed me sweetly, his lips gentle against mine. It was so hard to believe that those lips could lie to me.
“Have you slept with Jade?” I blurted out.
His body stiffened and he sat down heavily next to me.
“Yeah,” he said at last, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “We’ve hooked up.”
“That’s what I thought. Since . . . since me?”
He closed his eyes and tilted his head forward. “Not since I got back.”
“But . . . ?”
He turned to look at me. “The night I found out about my momma . . . we hooked up then.”
He’d gone from my bed in the morning to hers in the evening. That hurt.
“Thank you for telling me,” I said slowly, pulling away.
“TC, I . . .”
I waved my hand. “No, it’s okay. We weren’t together then.”
“No!” he said angrily. “I was a fuckin’ idiot. I . . . I wasn’t thinking straight. You were the only person I wanted to talk to when I heard, but I didn’t want to drag you into my crappy life. I wanted to get shit-faced and forget everything . . .”
“But Jade was there.”
“Something like that,” he sighed.
I hated it. Jade was always going to be there when I wasn’t. And if not Jade, someone just like her. I had to trust Tucker, but it wasn’t easy. His history was against him, and the fact that he’d built up so many barriers against intimacy. The short time we’d had together, was that really enough to change the habits of a decade or more? I had to hope so, but it was hard.
“I’m not mad at you,” I said quietly. “Disappointed, I guess. But we weren’t together. You didn’t owe me.”
“Don’t be so fucking nice about it,” he growled. “I was a douche. You should be mad at me.”
“I’m hurt more than anything,” I admitted quietly. “Yes, angry too, even though I know I have no right to be.”
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re the last person I want to hurt, Tera.”
I waited for more: an apology, an admission of how he felt, but there was nothing. Instead he held my hand and played with my fingers.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he said at last. “But I’m trying.”
“Me, too.”
I leaned against him, breathing in the smell of his clean sweat and warm, earthy body. It was soothing and arousing at the same time. I couldn’t blame him for being confused when my thoughts and emotions were equally haywire.
He started to say something, but then Zef called him over.
“I gotta go, TC. Will you be okay?”
“Sure, sure. Go do your crazy stuntman thing,” I said, kissing him quickly.
He grinned at me, then jogged over to Zef, and he was lost in conversation again.
I slipped away, wandering down the midway, chatting to anyone who would stop for a moment. The carnies were polite, but not over-welcoming. And besides, they were all busy.
I understood and I didn’t blame them: I was in the twilight world, neither entirely rube, but not one of them either.
Eventually, I walked back to the RV to see if I could help Aimee with lunch, but of course she already had it under control and didn’t need my help. She reminded me that they only ate a light snack before a performance, saving the carb-heavy food for the evening.
“I’ve been working on a diet plan for them,” she explained seriously. “They need to ensure a steady and regular supply of glucose to maintain optimum performance. So I use energy foods that are unrefined complex natural carbohydrates. They’re low GI, so they release their sugars in a more regulated and continuous manner and avoid the insulin spike and . . .”
She smiled at me sheepishly.
“Sorry—TMI! It’s just since . . . since the accident . . . well, you know.”
I nodded and gave her a quick hug. I did know.
She must have felt sorry for me, because she let me contribute by putting out the silverware. That took all of two minutes.
I could have sat down with a book. I could have caught up with some reading from the office, but I couldn’t just sit around while everyone else was working their butts off. Instead, determined to be useful, I headed toward the horses and ponies who made up the rodeo outfit—at least they were pleased to see me. I stood rubbing their warm noses and feeding them pieces of carrot, chatting to them and wishing I had a currycomb so I could get some of the thick dust out of their manes.
“Hi, there!”
I turned around and saw Zach’s boyfriend.
“Hi Luke,” and I gave him a quick kiss which turned his cheeks pink. “Do you need a hand with anything? I’m feeling like a bit of a spare part around here.”
He looked around him helplessly.
“I don’t know. Is there anything you can do?”
I arched one eyebrow, and his blush deepened.
“Well, I can groom the horses or I can muck them out. You choose.”
He seemed stunned. “Kes would have my hide if I got you shoveling shi—manure.”
I rolled my eyes. “You can say ‘shit’, Luke. I won’t faint. I just need to do something useful.”
Luke grinned. “Yes, ma’am! This way.”
And for the next two hours until lunchtime, I brushed the horses until their coats gleamed and their tails and manes were free of knots, and I shoveled shit until my hands began to blister.
Hot, sweaty and smelling like a horse, I limped back to the RV, my muscles screaming, but full of a sense of achievement.
Kes laughed out loud when he saw me. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Looks like she’s been rolling in the hay,” Zef said with a calculated glance at Tucker, who frowned.
“Just helping out with the rodeo horses,” I smiled, flopping down next to Tucker and kissing the scowl off his face.
He kissed me back enthusiastically, despite my equine odor, only stopping when Kes kicked his leg
“My sister, man!”
I raised my eyes to the sky. Cockblocked by my own brother. I liked that he looked out for me, but sheesh, couldn’t a girl catch a break?
“Later,” I whispered to Tucker, for the second time today, and he winked at me.
I caught Kes looking away, a pained expression on his face.
After lunch, the atmosphere changed. There was a tension in the air, an electrical charge that zapped along the midway and out to the grandstand, and then at 2PM, the gates to the fairground opened.
Showtime!
Children, families, teenagers, couples, groups of guys and girls poured into the fairground, the happy noise filling the dusty air. I could smell hotdogs and onions frying, and already people were enjoying the sugar rush of blue
berry cotton candy, staining their tongues purple and catching it in their hair.
It was strange to think my brothers had grown up with this: one of them loving it, one of them hating it. Connor never came near the fairground now, except on rare occasions or when Kes was doing a big event.
It was chaotic and loud, and a part of me sympathized with Connor who had gone into the Air Force, seeking a more ordered way of life.
The Daredevils’ first show was at 4PM, plenty of time for me to get nervous. I’d seen Tucker perform stunts before, but not since we’d been . . . dating or whatever it was called . . . and not since he’d dislocated his shoulder.
My stomach twisted with anxiety and I thought I was going to throw up.
Aimee pulled me to one side when she caught me pacing restlessly as the guys changed into their leathers.
“I know exactly what you’re feeling,” she said quietly. “I sort of hate this part. I love how excited Kes gets—this is his life—but I can’t help feeling a little sick inside. That never changes.”
I nodded and tried to swallow.
“I’ve found that the best thing to do is to stay away until they’re ready to perform. They need to get in the zone; seeing us worrying about them doesn’t help.”
I listened to her advice carefully. She’d been through this so many times.
“How do you stand it?” I asked her, the tension making me twitchy and irritable.
She smiled a little sadly. “I don’t have any choice. But when I see Kes flying through the air, everyone in the crowd standing on their feet and cheering, I know he’s doing what he was born to do. They’re all like it: they’re addicted. They don’t know how to live without it.”
Her words hit me hard. Tucker would never leave this life, couldn’t leave it. So the question was: where did that leave us?
The closer the hour drew to four o’clock, the thicker the crowds of people were around the grandstand and lined along the fence that made up the arena.
As music pounded out across the PA system, I stood with Aimee, our hands locked together. With a roar, three motorcycles zoomed out in a cloud of dust, charging to the center, looking as if they were certain to collide. I gasped, and heard a soft, “Ow!” as my fingers clamped down around Aimee.
“Sorry,” I whispered, forcing myself to watch.