Firesnake
Cassandra Kane
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2007 Cassandra Kane
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ISBN: 978-1-59596-697-1
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Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1046
Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046
www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Vikky Bertling
Cover Artist: Zuri
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Firesnake
Cassandra Kane
Meridia Hancock is a fire starter whose body heat is so high no one can touch her without getting third-degree burns. Raised in a traveling carnival, Meri decides to grab her chance at a normal life when the carnival is suddenly disbanded. The only problem is -- how’s a freak of nature to earn her living in the real world?
And there’s a more pressing need. Sex. Each passing day brings a stronger desire to mate. But who wants to sleep with a virgin who can burn you to a crisp?
Dr. Jonas “Iceman” Anderson seems the only man for the job. But the gorgeous, cold-blooded scientist refuses to play ball. He not only insists he’s from another planet but he’s convinced she’s the mythical Firesnake and must remain untouched. It’s up to Meri to show him the error of his ways…
Chapter One
It wasn’t the first time Meridia Hancock felt the walls of her tiny trailer closing in around her over the last two weeks. She could touch both sides of the trailer -- from the kitchenette to the slab of scratched zinc that served as a dining table -- by stretching her arms wide, palms flat against the walls, but it wasn’t only the size of the trailer that bothered her. Remnants of her previous existence were stacked, unopened, in packing boxes in the corner, reproaching her for not yet making a brand new start.
Only her new life didn’t exist yet. She was stuck in a no-man’s-land, discarded like an unwanted puppy dumped on a highway after Christmas.
All right, so it wasn’t really like that. But that’s how it felt.
“Get a grip,” she muttered to herself as she stared out the window at the dry-dirt field outside the trailer. She’d chosen to be here, on her own, when Charlie Charwith’s Carnival and Sideshow had disbanded after Charlie’s death. Everyone else had moved on, taking up offers of work at various circuses and sideshows. Gyorgo the Sword-Swallower had even landed a gig in some fancy hotel in Las Vegas. She was the only one who had decided to stay in Butcheck, Arizona, to think about her life…
“What’s there to think about, darling?” Belle, whose act included contorting into unimaginable positions over a bed of nails, had raised thinly plucked eyebrows when Meri had told her she’d planned to stay in Butcheck on her own. “Charlie’s dead. Maybe you don’t have any offers?”
“I’ve got offers.” Meri pointed at the sheaf of letters on her table. “Lots of offers.”
“Well then? You’ll make much more money than Charlie gave you, I’m sure. He was tight with his hands.” Belle’s Eastern European accent became heavy.
“Tight-fisted,” Meri corrected absently. “But I don’t want sideshow work, Belle. I want to be normal.”
Belle laughed her rich, raucous laugh, then quickly smothered it when she realized Meri was completely serious. “Darling, don’t tell me you desire to be someone’s secretary? With your gift you know you couldn’t --”
“I know. Stand within two yards of a computer and I short circuit it. And I’d burn all the paperwork.” She shrugged wearily. “There’s other work.”
“Is there?” Belle stared at her consideringly. “If only you could be with a man you might have a good career as a mistress.”
Meri gaped. “What? What made you think of that? I would never -- That’s not what I would want -- I mean, there’s no way --” She breathed deeply, a blush flushing over her cheeks.
Belle smiled, eyes glinting mischievously. “Ah, Meri, you are so transparent. You are beautiful and we all know how you long for a man. It’s no secret. The fire that burns you from without burns you also from within. Have I not seen you walking around at night, sleepless, sighing for a lover?”
Meri was mortified, but couldn’t help admiring the way Belle could even make her raging lust seem poetic and romantic.
“Your man will come, Meridia,” Belle said softly. “You must be patient. He is looking for you, just as you are looking for him.”
It was said Belle had gypsy blood. It sounded so much like a prediction that Meri shivered. Tears unexpectedly welled up in her eyes. “Oh, Belle, do you really think I’ll ever get laid?” she blurted out. “It gets so bad sometimes I think I’m going to explode.”
Belle’s hand had reached out to touch her own. Then she’d snatched it back as she felt the burning heat radiating from Meri’s skin. Belle smiled sadly. “I’m sorry for your affliction, my love. But you find release on your own, yes?”
Meri cringed in embarrassment. “Oh God, Belle!”
Belle grinned. “Perfectly natural, m’dear. I myself was quite addicted before I found Bob.” Bob was the carnival strongman and built like an office block.
“I’m not discussing masturbation,” Meri said firmly.
“I’ll take that as a yes, though I agree it’s not the same as having a man between your legs. But there’s something in between.” Belle’s face lit in a slow smile. “I have something for you. A goodbye present.”
She reached into her dresser drawer and handed Meri an elongated box. Her eyes glinted mischievously as she’d watched Meri unwrap it awkwardly with her fireproof gloves. “You do not have to suffer in silence.”
Now Meri stared at the glass dildo sitting on the scratched table of her tiny trailer. The imitation cock, transparent and shiny and cool, had been cast in gigantic proportions. It was long and thick, with a perfectly shaped bulbous head… and looked completely alien. She’d been staring at it for almost two weeks, alternating between yearning and discomfort.
She was afraid, deeply afraid, that it would melt. Inside her.
With that thought the urge for sex came like a punch to her stomach, spreading through her body in a tidal wave of desire that scorched her insides. She clasped her hands around her middle and moaned.
“Water.” She stumbled to the kitchen sink, turned on the tap and thrust a glass under the sudden torrent, drank thirstily, and refilled the glass.
As she lifted it to drink again, she stilled and watched, captivated, as little licks of blue flame danced over the skin of her arms and wrists. She set down the glass and held out her hands, observing the flames pooling in her palms in a ball of fire. Strange how it could fascinate her, this spontaneous blue flame that appeared during the apex of her lust.
She furrowed her brow, concentrated, and the ball thinned until a narrow column of fire twisted, wound, and burned in the center of her palms. As the column lengthened, edging toward the low ceiling, she fisted her hands. The fire snapped off as though she’d turned off the tap. A wisp of smoke curled between her clenched fingers. Pale blue flames licked around her wrists.
“Very pretty.”
Meri whirled to look at the man leaning n
onchalantly in the open doorway to her trailer. He was wearing a threadbare suit over his lanky frame, his washed-out blue eyes, bulging slightly, fixed on her. A thin-lipped smile slashed across pale skin in an amused smirk. One of his cheap polished shoes rested on the top step of the trailer.
“Anybody ever teach you to knock, Heppeldigger?” she snapped. And the fire skimming over her skin evaporated.
“Can’t get no story that way,” he drawled, then eased himself over the threshold and stood inside. “Sure is small in here.”
“Yeah, well, no one invited you in so you can just leave the way you came.”
“Now that’s just not friendly.”
Titus Heppeldigger worked for Stranger Than Fiction, a scandal rag working out of Tucson that reported on the strange and bizarre. Two-headed calves announcing the Apocalypse, Jesus faces appearing in donut dough -- nothing was too unimportant for Stranger Than Fiction’s pages. Heppeldigger himself lived in Butcheck and had been a regular fixture at Charlie Charwith’s Carnival and Sideshow since they’d toured here over a year ago and stayed on when Charlie had gotten ill. Charlie had cultivated him, called him his ticket to free publicity.
Meri found him irritating. The man had been sniffing around her ever since she’d set foot in Butcheck. Always hanging around when she least expected, staring at her cleavage as though her eyes were chest level.
“If you want friendly, you can just go to the local whorehouse. They take anyone.” Damn, now that was rude. Even if it had come out of frustration, it was way below the belt. She let out a sigh. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“You’re not having a good time, eh? Didn’t expect you would. Beautiful girl like you out here all alone. It’s not natural.”
He could spoil even a sincere apology with a smarmy comment like that, Meri thought as her irritation soared. “So what do you want?”
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d check up on you. Make sure everything was all right. Seeing as you’re all alone.” His eyes cut to the table and a slow smile snaked across his face. “Though maybe not too lonely.”
Crap. The glass dildo. Meri snatched it from the table and stomped into her miniscule bedroom, threw it on her bed, and slammed the door shut.
When she turned around, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment, Heppeldigger was sitting on the fiberglass bench at the table rolling a cigarette.
“Nice sculpture,” he said, poker-faced as he brought out his lighter, snapped the top open and flicked a thumb over the wheel. And again. And again. Nothing.
Meri strode over and poked her finger at the end of the cigarette. The paper burst into flame, subsided as the tobacco caught fire.
“Damn.” Heppeldigger sucked on the cigarette. “I still can’t get over how you do that.”
With a weary sigh, Meri leaned back against the kitchen sink and crossed her arms. “You’ve written four articles about me already, Titus. There’s no story here. You’re wasting your time.”
“Maybe I am. Maybe I ain’t.” His drawl alluded to his Texan roots. He expelled a plume of smoke. “What’s with the sculpture anyway?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
He chuckled. “Given it much of a ridin’?”
Meri’s eyes narrowed, even as his words sent a sickening surge of desire through her stomach. An image of herself impaled on the glass dildo danced in her head. She breathed deeply, steadied herself, even as liquid pooled between her thighs. “I’m not talking about my sex life, Heppeldigger.”
“There’s not much to talk about, from all accounts.” He smiled. “I visited Gerry Tooley a few weeks back. Still got some nasty burns on his hands.”
“That comes from touching what he’s not supposed to.” Gerry Tooley had run the shooting gallery at the carnival and got it into his head that Meri was playing hard to get. He’d pounced on her one evening, to his everlasting regret. His hands had been badly burned and bandaged for weeks.
“I can’t imagine the sculpture’s doing much for you.” He stubbed out his cigarette.
“I said I’m not talking about --”
“Yeah, I know.”
He sat back, laying his arm across the top of the bench. Damn, she was fine. She wore hip-skimming shorts that were little more than panties and a tiny bikini top that barely covered the front of her breasts, leaving more than a handful spilling out, ripe and plump. Her dusky skin was damp with the heat of the searing Arizona summer, which made it several degrees higher inside the trailer. Beads of perspiration popped out over her upper lip only to disappear. He longed to lick them off and plunge his tongue into her luscious mouth.
She could walk around in that skimpy outfit and know she was completely safe. The lush body designed to give every man an instant hard-on was a ruse. One touch of that hot skin and you were toast. Literally. And then to face the scorn in Meri’s dark, incisive eyes. He didn’t know what was worse.
But she wanted it. Heppeldigger knew it as his cock surged beneath his trousers. He could feel the waves of sexual heat emanating from her despite the utterly disapproving and disdainful look on her face. He hadn’t been able to keep away since the day he’d first laid eyes on her. Even if she did consider him a dirty old man, he was a still red-blooded male, he was single, and there was nothing that said he couldn’t try to get a chance with her.
“You know,” he said casually, “I was reading up on a case. Man struck by lightning. No one could touch him without getting burned, just like you.”
“Uh huh.” Meri studied at her fingernails, trying to look bored.
“-- so he used to take his woman in a bathtub full of ice. You ever try that?”
“What?” That got her attention.
“Ice.” Heppeldigger stared at the trail of perspiration slipping from under her right breast, only to disappear. He swallowed as his cock jumped in his pants.
Meri stared at the hard length of his penis straining against the cheap cloth of his trousers. She’d had men react to her like this before, many times. But now she was caught in the grip of her own lust. The fire raging within got stronger and stronger with every passing day. She was almost powerless to resist it. She didn’t care if it was Heppeldigger. It could have been anyone. Just someone who was willing to try.
“You could try ice,” Heppeldigger said, licking his lips. “It might work.”
Almost in a trance, she took a step toward him. She itched to take his penis in her hands, in her mouth, inside herself. Just once, to ease the heat.
She took a deep shuddering breath. What was she thinking? She’d burn him. To a crisp. Jesus, what kind of psychopath was she turning into? She had to put a stop to this, make him see the danger of it. Of her.
“You mean you want to try ice. With me.”
Heppeldigger swallowed again, nodded. “I have a real thing for you, Hancock. Can’t you tell?” He waved his hand over the bulge between his legs. “I’ll try whatever it takes to have you.”
It might have been romantic if it wasn’t Heppeldigger saying it. A wave of pity, for him and herself, washed over her. She’d put an end to it.
“Let’s try ice then.” Her voice sounded strained, flat.
Heppeldigger watched as she opened the refrigerator door, stuck her hand in the freezer compartment and brought out a tray of ice cubes. He shifted in his seat, adjusting positions to ease his throbbing cock, trying hard not to let his excitement overwhelm him.
She set the ice cubes on the table in front of him and stood a foot away, facing him, hips thrust out, feet planted firmly on the floor. There was a cool look in her eye.
He glanced at the tray of ice cubes. “I was thinking more like getting a couple of bags from the gas station down the road.” He tried to be all nonchalant, like his dreams were fulfilled every day. “To fill the tub.”
“Let’s start easy first.”
“Easy?”
She nodded, then slipped her hands behind her back, undid the ties to her top, and let it drop to the
floor.
He did nothing but gape for a long moment. Fine was not a good enough word to describe her breasts. Magnificent came close.
“Go ahead.”
He blinked, stared at her. “W-what?”
“You can touch me if you want. Use the ice cubes. Here, I’ll start you off.” She reached behind her, took the glass of water from the kitchen counter, and poured it over her tits.
Jesus, did she just do that? His cock was pulsing now, hard with need. The water flowed over her body, evaporated to a fine steam before it reached the edge of her shorts. Her long nipples puckered ever so slightly. He longed to reach out, squeeze them to life between his fingers, grasp the up-tilted firmness of her breasts in his hands.
“What are you waiting for?” Her voice was teasing now, playful, but with an underlying coolness. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Her hands came up and cupped her tits, her thumbs scraping over her nipples. “Don’t you want to touch them?”
“Je-sus!” His hands shook as he reached for the tray of ice cubes, trying to loosen one from the sheet of ice. His fingers fumbled.
“Let me.” He withdrew his hand as the heat of her neared him. She leaned across, placed her hand over the tray. The sheet of ice holding the cubes together turned to water. She poked a finger in one of the holes, took out a cube. Brought it up to her breast and rubbed it slowly, delicately, over her nipple. It hardened, lengthened, pink and inviting.
He whimpered. Christ, he would come any minute now. This was way beyond his wildest fantasies, way beyond anywhere he’d ever thought he’d get with her. Here she was, actually asking for it. From him.
His erection was almost painful as he took out an ice cube. He was holding his breath as he turned to her. The first cube had already melted away and her hands were now resting on her hips. She was leaning slightly forward, thrusting her breasts at him. Heat from her came at him in waves. He realized he was sweating profusely as the heavy drops of perspiration fell into his eyes.
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