by Trudi Jaye
He bent his head and kissed her breast through the sheer fabric of her bra. She arched her back, giving him easier access. He took the opportunity to place hot kisses along her neck. The pulse of her blood beat hard against her skin.
He stepped back and pulled off his jeans, then started to work on Rilla’s pants.
Rilla climbed on the bed and pulled him down beside her, leaning into his kiss like it was the only thing holding her together. She could think of nothing other than the freshness of his scent and the heat blasting between them.
He kept kissing her, and then he moved over her, spreading her legs. His fingers touched the sensitive nub between them. She could feel the juices flowing and arched her back. “Now, do it now. I need you.”
He put one hand on her breast, kneading it and pulling at the peak then putting his lips where his hands had been. Rilla moaned, her whole body filled with pleasure, heat flowing from her center right to the ends of her fingertips and the tips of her toes. She writhed beneath him and grasped at his body, unable to think beyond his warm skin.
And then he was inside her. One thrust, long and deep, that filled her and made her call out again. He pulled back and thrust again, riding her, again and again, until she was filled to the brim. Then the sensations overflowed, bursting from her body, sending her over the edge.
One more thrust and Jack joined her. He released a satisfied gasp as he came to rest beside her. He stroked her back lightly as they both drifted back down to Earth.
“That was… unexpected,” said Rilla.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I kissed you,” he said. She could feel his smile against her neck and gave an answering smirk.
So had she.
***
Rilla woke slowly, snuggled under her covers. She wriggled closer to the warmth, smiling in her half-awake dream state. Then her memories of the night before flooded in. Both eyes flicked open and she looked down at the arm firmly wedged around her waist. She shut her eyes again. What had she done? He was her competition for Ringmaster, and she had sex with him?
Had she no sense?
She wriggled experimentally, trying to see if she could get out of the bed without waking him. He grunted in his sleep and pulled her closer, his stiff morning erection pressed against her bottom. Her bare bottom. Oh my God. How was she going to get out of this?
“I hope you’re not thinking of ways to sneak out of here,” he whispered in her ear, pulling her closer against his bare skin. Rilla shivered, her body reacting to his presence despite her inner turmoil.
“Where would I go? It’s my caravan.”
He laughed softly. “I’m sure you’d find somewhere. You have all sorts of bolt-holes around the Carnival.”
Rilla swallowed. He saw too much. “We better get up. We have things to do.” She tried to pull herself away.
“I like it right where I am.” One hand snaked up to curl around her breast, absently fondling her nipple.
Rilla closed her eyes, allowing the sensations to flood her body. It felt so good; she didn’t have the willpower to resist his charms this early in the morning.
He moved his hips against her buttocks, and she moaned. His other hand came around and felt for the sensitive nub between her legs, moving his fingertip against it until she couldn’t bear it anymore. Just when she was about to move away, he stopped and slipped his cock slowly into her warmth, gliding in and out, taking his time. This time when she came, he was right there with her, their groans matching in the early morning light.
***
“Coffee?” Rilla asked some time later. She smiled over at Jack where he lay sprawled out in her bed, his naked body only partly covered by the sheet.
“Only if you come back to bed and drink it here with me,” he said, his eyes saying what else she might expect if she complied.
“I have things to do this morning. Kara is due any moment.”
“Are you going to keep looking for your father’s killer?”
“I have to. This is the closest we’ve been to knowing who’s hurting the Carnival.”
He nodded. “I’m just worried about you. Whatever he did, it got your father killed.”
“We’ll be careful. No one knows about it anyway. Kara made me promise not to tell anyone. She thinks it’s someone in our inner circle.”
“Why’d you tell me, then?” He watched her carefully.
“Why do you think?” Rilla felt herself going pink. It was hard to admit to any kind of feelings for him.
“So, you do trust me?”
Rilla made a face. “I know it isn’t you sabotaging us.”
He crawled out of the bed and came over to stand behind her where she waited for the kettle to boil. He slipped his arms around her waist and drew her against him. “I’ll take that for now.” His chin nuzzled against her neck. “What are you doing after your training with Kara?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Managing the accounts, probably.” A long dreary afternoon beckoned.
“How about a quiet lunch with me? I’ll drive us somewhere.”
Rilla frowned. “It’s not a great time for drives in the countryside.”
“It won’t be for long. I think you just need a little break from Carnival life.”
She sighed. It was tempting. “I’ll see. Come find me closer to lunch.”
“I told Viktor I’d help him and his boys on the ride that broke down.” He kissed her neck, traveling lower and lower until Rilla shook with pleasure. “Then I thought I might go talk to Frankie.”
“Frankie?”
“I can’t understand it. He literally didn’t exist for me until he walked in the door last night. No one ever mentioned him. That’s weird.”
Pouring hot water into her coffee, Rilla considered what he said. “I guess you’re right. We’re all too close to see it, but we pretend he doesn’t exist.” She turned in his arms, looking up into his tawny eyes. “Do you think it’s because we don’t want to see what it’s doing to him?” It was hard to ask. She’d always felt she was doing what Frankie wanted.
Jack shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m going to visit him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“It’s got to happen soon, Jack. Rilla’s a good girl, but she’s not running the show the way it needs to be run.” Viktor slid a rough hand through his hair. “It’s a pity Blago’s ill. He would have been perfect. You’re a greenhorn, but you’re strong and you’re smart. You’ll pick it up fast enough.” Viktor paused and looked at Jack grimly. “You’ll have to.”
“Rilla knows far more about running the Carnival than me.” Jack leaned down over the engine to one side of the thrill ride. A panicky feeling seized his chest as he listened to Viktor’s words.
Viktor grunted, pulling on a large metal bolt. “But she ain’t running it right. If she were, we’d be in the honey. As it is, we’re swimming in vinegar. She’s grieving, and it’s messed with her abilities, even if she won’t admit it. Abacus, he could’ve turned it around. He was working on findin’ out who was trying to destroy us. But his little girl, she just ain’t ready for it yet.” His eyebrows pulled down and he stared at Jack. “Don’t go feeling sorry for the girl. She’s going to run the Carnival one day. She’ll probably take it back from you in some kind of crafty maneuver. But she’s just not ready yet, and we don’t have time to sit and wait.”
A tiny part of him curled up into a ball, turning brown in the harsh light of Viktor’s words. He didn’t want to do it. He wanted to tell his father and Viktor that Rilla should be Ringmaster.
She’d been doing the job since she was a teenager.
It hadn’t taken him long to realize that Abacus had been a larger-than-life personality, the central figure that brought them all together, kept morale high, and made them love him. But Rilla had been the one doing the hard slog, managing the accounts, meeting with the bankers, ordering the parts, and fixing the problems.
Viktor knew it. Jack was sure he did. But he also kn
ew Rilla wasn’t inspiring the Carnival’s people like she needed to. Jack had heard the murmurs since he arrived. When Blago was in the running, he’d planned to use it to win his father the title.
Now, he felt sick at the thought.
Rilla’s body against his, soft and warm, flashed through his head.
“When will she be ready? Can’t we just keep going as we are until then?”
“What, limping along like a wounded animal? Struggling to put food on the table and make the basic repairs we need? That ain’t the way this life is supposed to be, Jack. We have a blessed connection that’s been keeping us far more than warm and safe for the last three hundred years. We ain’t no ratty-tatty show that survives. We’re a high-flying performance that takes the punters into the world of their dreams. We work hard at that, and we don’t want it ruined because we like the girl too much to take her out from where she shouldn’t be.”
Jack blinked at the passion in Viktor’s voice. “Why don’t you run for Ringmaster?”
Viktor shook his head. “I’m too old and cantankerous. I get too grumpy with people, and they don’t like it. Besides, the race is already on. It’s between you and Rilla now, for better or worse. And my money is on you.”
“Are you sure?” Jack asked.
“Like I say, it ain’t like she’s never going to do it. She’s smart and she’s been raised to it. But we need to take her out of the equation for now. We need you in there so you can make some of the tough decisions she’s not going to make.”
“I need to think about it.”
“Time’s running out, Jack. You have one day. That’s it. We need to do this. It’s the best thing for the Carnival, and it’s the best thing for Rilla.”
***
“What makes you think I’m going to be able to help?” Frankie looked up from his laptop, his face glowing with eerie blue shadows in the darkened room. A massive flat-screen TV flashed with the flickering light of an ad, but no sounds, only adding to the manic lighting in the caravan.
“I’m not sure. Instinct?” Jack cautiously sat on the padded bench seat next to Frankie.
Frankie laughed, a strange, hollow sound that echoed around the interior. “I bet you fit right in around here with talk like that.”
“Why? What’s so wrong with instinct?” Jack knew he wouldn’t have said that a month ago.
“They’re all about using their instincts, their talents, making them work for us. I just don’t like it, that’s all.”
“But how can you not? You’re stuck in here because of the connection. Rilla said you got called back because of your talent. And you’re a gambler. That’s all about instinct, isn’t it?”
Frankie shook his head. “Just because I have to buy into the Carnival hocus pocus doesn’t mean I think other people should. Get out while you still can. That’s my advice to you. Because once you’re in, the Carnival doesn’t let you leave.” Frankie spoke with a manic intensity that seeped into the walls around them.
Jack paused. “Except when you break the rules.”
“Ah, yes. Your father.” Frankie gave a twisted smile. “I tried it, you know. I did my best to break a Gift a year back.” He paused, running one hand through his already messy hair. “I couldn’t do it. It takes a huge strength of will to actually break the flow of the Gift. Your father is a great man for managing it.”
Jack rocked back in his seat. Frankie was certainly one of a kind. Everyone else around him was on tender hooks lest they end up in an empty field somewhere. “I’ll let him know. But for now, I have to help Rilla.”
“Ah, now Rilla, that’s a whole other kettle of fish. I’ll help Rilla any day of the week.” Frankie wriggled his eyebrows up and down.
Jack frowned. “What does that mean?” he said, unable to stop himself from sounding like a jealous lover.
Frankie raised his eyebrows. “It means Rilla has always been on my side. Always. So, I’m on her side. Whatever she wants.”
“Then you should help me.”
“Tell me what you’re thinking, and we’ll see.” Frankie’s eyes switched to the television screen for a second. “No, not him! What are they doing?” Frankie shouted at the television. A tall man with blue hair, dressed all in black, stood on a stage in front of a burning ring of fire. Frankie rolled his eyes. “He’s doing that outdated piece again.”
Jack watched the screen, trying to understand his sudden change of focus. It looked like a magician’s act, with a tiny red-and-orange-clad figure on the stage. “Who is it?”
“This deadbeat Vegas magician, Hugo Blue,” Frankie answered without looking away from the screen. “Thinks he’s a hotshot ‘cause he gets the punters into his shows. He got me blacklisted at a couple of the big casinos. The beginning of the end of my career in Vegas.”
“Why’d he do that?” Jack squinted at the tiny figure on the screen. He looked vaguely familiar.
“Who knows?” Frankie shrugged. “It didn’t matter anyway. Dad died just after that, so I would have been called home whatever happened.”
“Are you sure you didn’t do something? Pinch his girlfriend? Talk dirty to his assistant?” Jack asked.
Frankie held up his hands, the picture of innocence. “Don’t even know the guy more than to say hi to. Sat across from him at a couple poker tournaments. He’s a celeb, and I was a minor player. I shouldn’t have even made it onto his radar.”
“Never can tell, I suppose.” Jack watched Frankie as he focused on the television again. The act included flames turning into doves, with the tall magician holding court in the center. There was definitely something familiar about him and Jack narrowed his eyes at the screen, trying to catch the stray thought in his head. Frankie rolled his eyes and muttered to himself, fixated on the performance.
Jack glanced around the small room. Frankie had all the latest gear, from his laptop to the television to the gaming paraphernalia and what looked like a pretty decent server in one corner. “I guess you’re online a lot?”
Frankie shrugged. “Not much else to do in here.” The magician clip came to an end, and Frankie transferred his gaze back to Jack.
Jack paused, ensuring he had Frankie’s full attention. “I need you to look for some information. A general search online for anything strange around the time of Abacus Jolly’s death.”
Frankie’s eyes sharpened on Jack. “Why are you looking into that again?”
“Again?”
“Abacus, he was looking into the damage to the Carnival. It’s what got him killed.”
“You think he was killed?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences. And there wasn’t anything accidental about his death.”
“Who do you think did it?”
“Hard to say. But if you do a bit of calculation on the odds, it makes sense that it was someone he knew.” Frankie picked up a pen and flicked it between his fingers in time to the bouncing of his foot on the floor.
Jack felt tired just watching him fidget. “Have you talked about this to anyone else?”
“He was killed by someone in the Carnival. I’m not going to get myself killed, as well.” Frankie was nothing if not pragmatic.
“But you’re telling me?”
“You’re not Carnival, at least not yet, so it wasn’t you. That much I know. And you’ve got a look in your eye when it comes to Rilla. You’re not out to hurt her.”
Jack felt a twist in his chest. Viktor wanted him to hurt her right to the core, and he was thinking about doing it. The old guy had a way with words. He made it seem like Jack had a responsibility to save everyone who relied on the Carnival for their living. That it would be better for her in the long run. He just wished it didn’t feel like an outright betrayal of Rilla.
“Well, you’re right. It wasn’t me,” he said sharply.
“What’s Rilla doing about it? She got any clues?”
“She’s working on it. You doing the search will satisfy my curiosity about what else was going on at the time.”
>
“You really think I’ll find anything significant?”
“Maybe. Look for strange movements or incidents, news reports that don’t add up, and any reports on the accident itself. I want to see them all.”
Frankie shrugged. “I’ll do what I can. No promises.”
“Just do your best.” Jack glanced at his watch. “I have to go. But it was good to talk, Frankie.”
Frankie nodded absently, his mind already switched to his new project. “Don’t be a stranger,” he said, even as he began typing into his computer.
Jack smiled. He’d gone to the right person.
***
Rilla walked around the side of the large thrill ride and stopped. In the distance, Jack and Viktor were talking with three of Viktor’s massive sons. The men were laughing at something Jack just said.
She paused, taking in the simple scene. Viktor was normally the last one to take to strangers. Jack had somehow managed to win over one of the most difficult and irritable members of the Carnival in just over a week.
How had he done it?
Her chest tightened as she thought about Jack’s relationship with everyone in the Nine. Tami was half in love with him. Alfie… well, she wasn’t sure about Alfie, but she knew he didn’t dislike Jack. Davos raved about how he was helping his set-up crews every night. Even Christoph, her father’s best friend, had welcomed him on board. And now here was Viktor chumming it up with him.
Abacus used to say that most of the Ringmaster role was about charming the Nine, making sure they were all working together as they should, presenting a united front.
As if a block of wood had hit her on the head, Rilla made the connection. She’d grown up with them all, thought of them as family, and was so used to having them around that instead of cajoling and charming them, she’d just been fighting against everyone.
Instead of holding them together, she was pulling them apart.
How had she managed to miss out on the charm her father had oozed on a daily basis?