Chapter 4
Camryn
Lis had her arm looped through mine and was steering me through the busy crowd with a firm grip. I knew what she was up to—she did not want me to lose my nerve and back out. She might be right about the urge; it was very hard to keep going and not start voicing all the reasons why this was a bad idea. The stack of paperwork on my desk was starting to look tempting, and that, more than anything, made me bite my lip and keep walking. I was not letting that asshole turn me into my father, the workaholic.
The carnival grounds were even more crowded than before, though most of the visitors now were of the adult variety. Darkness clung to everything, but torches, neon lights, and candles gave it a mysterious ambiance. It was starting to look less spooky and more cozy to me, but maybe that was just me getting used to the place.
We stepped around a hand - painted wagon that boldly proclaimed it self to be the apothecary. Herbs, jars of spices, and all kinds of strange , magical - looking items were displayed. Scented candles with strange names were being sold by the bushel. I nearly bumped into a man hurrying off while surreptitiously tucking a bag of herbs labeled “aphrodisiac” into his pocket. That made my nerves vanish, and I was smiling, telling Lis about it, when I saw him.
He stepped out from between two attractions : the strong man on a small stage showing off and a tent selling concessions. The scent of corn dogs, caramel, and spun sugar filled the air —s cents so incongruous with him that my brain struggled for a long moment to figure out if he was real or not. “Ah, fuck,” Lis exclaimed. “Why is he here?”
I knew why. There was only one reason Thorne would deign to step onto a muddy field and mi ngle with the common folk here to be thrilled: me. That might sound conceited — and considering he’d been so… negative throughout our brief time dating — surprising too. But it was the truth : Thorne did not want to let me move on . H e did not want me to forget our time together.
Blind panic struck me when Lis confirmed that he wasn’t a figment of my overzealous imagination. The crowd was huge, but Thorne stood out—tall and commanding. As he started walking toward us, his eyes locked on my face, and everyone scurried out of his path. They slipped away like water, fearing his wrath without even knowing why. He was simply that intimidating.
“You go that way. I’ll distract him,” Lis said with a snarl, her beautiful face contort ed in to a killing look. I was very glad I was n’ t on the receiving end of her glare, but I also knew it wasn’t enough to do more than delay Thorne. With a nod, I ducked around a wide-shouldered man in a long black coat, nearly tripped over a tent rope, and then I was off. My low heels made running on the muddy ground difficult , as did the crowd, but all that mattered was getting out of Thorne’s sight. After that, I needed to find a good hiding place and hope he ga ve up before I did. I ducked into a narrow passage between two tents and found myself behind the main thoroughfare , standing next to the sickly yellow - and - white-striped side of the big top once again. “ Side entrance,” my brain yelled at me, and I sprinted along the tent, hoping I could find it.
A stack of barrels and crates blocked my circuitous path around the tent, and I was forced to turn back toward the crowd, stepping around a tent featuring a BB gun shooting game. The bang and pop from the players, along with their cheers as they struck their targets, drowned out every other sound in the vicinity. Confused and a little disoriented, I spun in place and tried to figure out which way I should go. Everything looked the same now—glaring lights, flames, so many faces, and impossibly long shadows.
Shouting drew my attention, yanking my eyes away from the big top to the crowded carnival. The carnival - goers parted like the R ed S ea , expos ing Thorne as he strode down the path in my direction. How he’d known which way to go, I wasn’t sure, but there was no mistaking his purpose. He saw me ; he knew exactly where I was. Lis was the on e shouting, hanging from his arm and oblivious to the stares of the crowd. “Stop , you bastard ! L eave her alone! She doesn’t want to see you!” Ah, my friend was such a brave, loyal soul.
“Seems we’re not the only show in town, are we?” a low male voice drawled from nearby. My eyes jerked away from the distressing approach of my ex and landed on the man who’d suddenly popped up at my side. He wore leather pants and a leather jacket over his otherwise bare chest. Sunglasses perched on his straight nose, silky black hair sl ic ked back in to a neat style , and a smirk curled his lush mouth — Halvard the Stone Freak; the very man I’d been trying to meet. Except Lis and I had gotten a little turned around while trying to find the big top’s side entrance.
“He’s here for me,” I said to him, surprising myself with how candidly I spoke. Only Lis knew of my issues with my ex — and she only knew the bare minimum — but I was willing to ask this total and bizarre stranger for help. That’s how dire it was. “I was coming to see you, I swear. Right now , I’d settle for a quick getaway to the exit…” I glanced from Halvard’s sexy, stubborn chin and intriguing smirk back to Thorne and winced when I realized he was getting closer. Lis had given up on physically holding him back, but she was trying to incite the carnival - goers to stop him, sadly to no avail.
“I’ll do you one better, darling,” my leather - clad, sunglasses - wearing companion said. His voice sounded anything but amused now — it sounded deadly, sinister. A shiver shot down my spine that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with attraction. I was nuts. Halvard stuck his fingers between his teeth and whistled, the sound loud and shocking as it cut through the noise of the carnival. He jerked his chin toward Thorne once the sound died out, but if it was a signal to others, I could not tell to whom.
A noisy snuffle came from behind me . “Groink?!” Something brushed past my leg, and I sidestep ped reflex ively , colliding with my handsome Stone Freak. Halvard immediately slid his arm around my middle and hauled me closer, nearly lifting my heels out of the muddy grass. A huge, dark brown , and extremely hairy pig trundled past me on thick, stumpy legs. A spiked leather collar around i t s thick neck ma de it clear it was someone’s pet.
“A whole basket of apples, Hogzy. How does that sound? Seems like a fair deal for some mayhem. You like mayhem.” Halvard’s words made the pig —or rather, the hog — snort again, and then it charged. S hockingly fast for such a big, chunky animal , it raced straight at Thorne. Lis barely had enough time to get out of the way, but Thorne was n’ t as fortunate. The animal ’s two sharp tusks narrowly missed him , but he went sprawling backward into the mud, ruining his expensive suit. It was immensely satisfying to watch him stuck in the muck he so despised.
“Come on, this way, darling,” my impromptu hero said at the same time, spinning us around and briskly starting to walk. I felt like I was floating above the muddy grass rather than being stuck in it with every step. My heels skimmed the ground , my weight supported by that snug arm looped around my waist. I should have felt trapped — this man made it seem like we were strolling, whe n really, he was practically carrying me where ver he wanted me to go. It did n’ t even cross my mind to protest ; all I felt was light and relieved.
He ducked us around the side of a tent, out of the carnival - goers’ paths , and then around several trailers and old - fashioned traveling wagons. There was a gleaming silver A irstream with several conspicuous dents along one side that he approached. It was dark inside, but fairy lights had been strung along the outside , glitter ing like the rest of the Twisted Carnival. Glitter ing but also cast ing shade, I noticed. Here, in the camp’s private area, where the performers lived, the shadows were even more pronounced.
“Welcome to my home,” Halvard said as he swung open the door to the A irstream and flicked on the lights. It was still fairly dark, as though the lights had trouble fighting the shadows even inside what had to be my Stone Freak’s haven. A bed was agains t one wall, cozy and surprisingly big. There was no sign of a kitchen area, but a kettle on a hot plate sat on a table. Everywhere I looked , I saw evidence of his profession : a set of shimmering juggling balls on a table, dozens of sharp knives next to them. Masks, costumes, and a whole lot of leather spilled out of an open closet. But there was also a long shelf filled with jars of herbs , carefully labeled by hand in neat block letters, not herbs — teas.
“Thank you for the rescue back there…” I said, hesitating just inside the door, which Halvard had left open, possibly to give me a feeling of safety. Really, all it did was let the cold and slightly humid night air in, and I was beginning to feel it.
Halvard had gone straight for the hotplate and was making tea with quick, experienced hands—a ritual he’d performed a million times. It was a domestic sight that looked impossible when performed by a dark-haired man wearing all black leather. And yet, he was still wearing sunglasses, even though we were inside and it was quite dark.
I opened my mouth to ask him why when my eyes caught on the windows that dotted the traveling home’s interior. There weren’t many, and they were small, but each was covered from the inside with some kind of shimmering black foil. There was no way to look out of them, and I had the distinct feeling that looking in was just as impossible. Why had he done that?
“I still don’t know your name, darling. I think I deserve to know your name, don’t you?” my host drawled, twisting around to look at me through his dark glasses. He propped himself against the side table, posing in a long, dark line of sinew and muscle. His chest was bare and visible through the open front of his leather jacket, and my mouth went dry as I stared at his abs rather than his face.
“It’s Camryn Mayfield,” I said by rote. “Cam or Cammy to my friends.” I d id n’t know why I added that ; it wasn’t like anyone but Lis called me Cammy. Over the past year, I’d sort of drifted away from all my other friends — not that I’d been particularly close to anyone. Except Lis , of course, but she was the only one who truly understood my relationship with my father, and I the one she had with hers.
“Nice to meet you, Cammy,” Halvard said, and I shivered at the sound of my name coming from his lips. He was too sexy, and that voice sounded like sin. He said my name the way a lover might in bed, twisting my insides with desire and nerves. Once upon a time, I had thought Thorne was potent, but Halvard was in a league of his own.
He straightened from the side table with his tea setup and prowled closer. Steam was beginning to waft from the kettle behind him, but he paid i t no heed. “So, Cammy, tell me — why was that man after you? If I’m going to be protecting you, I’d like to know why.” His question made my mouth go dry. I did not want to talk about Thorne to anyone, least of all this sexy - as - sin man —this man I’d decided could possibly be my first foray into passion again. If I was even capable of that kind of thing . I felt it in my belly when I looked at him, so I was hopeful for the first time in months. The first stirrings that told me Thorne was wrong.
I twisted my head to look out the open door and saw nothing but shadows and the glittering lights of the carnival beyond the nearest row of mobile homes. Then I leaned out and caught the door handle, purposely pulling it shut , enclosing us inside the warm but slightly gloomy interior of Halvard’s home. “I don’t want to talk about Thorne,” I said to my companion. “I want to learn more about you.” That was a cliché pickup line I’d had turned on me more than once, but I meant it . I really did want to know more about him. I wanted to know everything, because he was the most interesting person I’d ever met.
Halvard a ngle d his face toward the closed door, taking i t in and analyzing what I meant by doing so . His mouth twisted into a slightly sinister smile again, but I didn’t feel scared. If anything, I felt safer now that the door was closed and I knew nobody could look inside. I’d been terrifi ed back in the ring, kneeling at his feet as he spun and spun in gentle, languid rotations —s cared out of my mind when I’d pricked my finger and he’d sucked the wounded digit with his warm, sinful mouth. But now , I was all out of fear . That confrontation with Thorne had drained the last of it . All that remained was the simmering, molten desire I felt for this stranger.
He stepped closer, his body heat crashing against my chilled skin. A big man with the body of an athlete, he towered over me , but that only made me feel sheltered. I wanted him even closer, so I reached out and grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “You feel it?” I asked, my voice little more than a breathy whisper. When he nodded, I raised myself on my toes, and he dipped down. Our mouths met in the middle — a meeting of body and soul that felt profound , somehow.
The kiss went from a fervent meeting to a clashing of wills, of fire and passion. His arm came around my middle, yanking me close, lifting me. I felt the door press against my back, the cool metal c hil ling me through my jacket, while he was an inferno against my front. His cock pressed shamelessly against my belly, a steel bar co ntain ed by his leather pants. It was so blatant, so wild, that all I could do was surrender — cling to him and let him take. I loved it ; my body loved it. It sang for him.
He was the one who broke the kiss, long after the kettle had begun whistling with a pure , high note. It was then that I saw he still wore those dark glasses, and before I could stop myself, I reached up and impulsively pulled them from his face. I wanted to know the color of his eyes so badly that I did not stop to ask, did not stop to consider the consequences.
For a long second , we stared into each other ’ s eyes. His were as black as jet, as coal, shimmering like mirrors. They held me ensnared, trapped in his gaze, and I didn’t want to move — I just wanted to keep staring , as if his eyes were magnets to mine, drawing me in, and all I wanted was to cling there. To s ee into his soul, to let him see into mine, and to spill all my deepest , darkest fears and secrets. I had never felt that way before — so unguarded, yet so fearless — and it made me feel like I was flying.
Then Halvard snapped his eyes shut with a growl, his entire body jerking backward, away from me. “Ah, curse it! Cammy, what did you do? ! ” I stared after him , wide - eyed, as he fumbled , eyes scrunched shut , past his open, spilling wardrobe to a cabinet with drawers. Blindly, he began to search for something, his hands knocking over a small lockbox and a bowl filled with glittering gemstones.
He was making such a ruckus that he didn’t hear my heels clicking on the wooden floorboards. “What are you looking for? Can I help?” I asked, sounding contrite. Guilt twisted in my chest because I’d caused this with my impulsive actions. I should have known better ; obviously, he wore them for a reason. At the sound of my voice near his elbow , he jerked back, his shoulders straightening and his head lift ing. There was a mirror above the chest of drawers, and our gazes collided in it. His eyes glittered fiercely, his expression grim and shocked, and his lips cur led back into an angry snarl . If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he appeared to have fangs — like a vampire, or maybe more like a vicious dog or wolf — but that was silly. A lmost a s silly as a man freaking out over the loss of a pair of shades .
“You’re not stone,” he said, his snarl dropping to make way for confusion. “How are you not stone? You looked me right in the eye, from really close, for at least a second. Cammy, you should be frozen in place…” He flung out a hand and pointed at the spot near the door where we’d been a moment ago. “A statue…” My eyes grew as wide and surprised as his still were when I began to put together what had happened.
“You think your gaze really turns people to stone? Halvard … that’s impossible. It was just an act, a show. I’m sure those guys were your colleagues, plants in the audience. You don’t have to keep up the act for me.” My words made him bark out a raw, husky laugh, and then he slowly turned around, his gaze hooded as if he feared looking at me. As his eyes opened and connected with mine—not through the mirror this time, but directly—bare and unshielded, just like earlier—I felt a shiver shoot down my spine. I felt a lot of hot, crazy, lust-filled emotions, but I did not turn to stone. To prove it, I raised my hand and cupped his square chin in my palm. “See, not stone.”
“I can’t believe it . I don’t…” Halvard said softly, and his gaze swirled as he stared into my eyes , no sunglasses between us. “You are immune.” Then he tossed his head back and laughed in a wild, unfettered way that had me utterly entranced. The next thing I knew, I was swept off my feet and tumbled onto his unmade bed. He prowled on top of me, fire in his black eyes. “You are mine, darling. This proves it.”
A man had said that to me once before — claimed me as his. It hadn’t worked out, though I knew that Thorne still felt his claim held sway. It was absolutely terrifying to have a man repeat it to me once again, part of my brain certain that history was about to repeat itself. Then all concerns were swept away on a tide of passion : h is mouth on mine, tongue sweeping past all my defenses. His hands roamed, stroking my curves, my waist, cupping my breasts . T hen they began unbuttoning my pants.
I wasn’t even out of my coat yet . The teakettle was still whistling with a gentle, pure note —a stark contrast to the shrill tone of my own kettle at home. Neither of us stopped to bother with any of it; we simply went up in flames together. His fingers slipped into my panties, accompanied by a deep growl from him and a soft sigh from me. After that, I could do nothing but writhe and moan beneath him as he worked my clit with expert precision. Any doubts I’d had about my sexuality after meeting Halvard vanished completely. I had never come for a man before—not without some help of my own—but this strange, sinfully sexy circus performer had made me shatter in less than a minute. Clearly, all it took was the right man.
Once the last shudders subsided, he slowly withdrew his fingers, raised them between us , and , while staring me straight in the eye, began to lick them clean. The obvious delight on his face gave m y whole body a flush, and I was still tingling like mad when , a few seconds later, scratching at the door interrupted the intense moment.