CHAPTER FIFTEEN（Untitled）Grace
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Grace
If riding pressed to Branikk was difficult over the past few days, it’s downright excruciating today.
Every time he touches me, I can’t help but picture him naked. And he’s constantly touching me, so…
My back brushes his chest, and I picture him turning to face me, his cock swollen and huge. His thigh presses against mine, and I picture how the muscles trembled as he neared his climax. His hand flexes on my stomach, and I see it wrapped around his cock, stroking and stroking and stroking…
God, I need to stop thinking of him naked.
I squirm in the saddle, which only pushes me closer to him and makes not thinking about his body impossible. Bad brain!
“Are you okay?” His voice is a deep, hypnotic rumble, his breath hot on my ear.
I shiver. “I’m fine.” Then I lie. “I’m just bored. I’m used to working all day, not sitting and riding.”
“You could practice your magic,” Branikk says.
“While we’re riding?”
“Why not?” His body moves behind me in a shrug that sends ripples of sensation across my back. “You can make small things you can hold in your hand. It will still be practice.”
I remember the absolutely transparent negligee that appeared the last time I tried to “do magic,” and a blush heats my cheeks. God, can you imagine if I wore something like that in front of Branikk? It wouldn’t hide anything . I’d pretty much be just as naked as he was last night.
I groan. There I go again, thinking about the thing I will not think about.
I grasp at this magic idea. Anything to keep my mind off… the other thing.
It’ll be impossible for the props department to drop something embarrassing like a negligee into my hands while we’re riding. Hell, it’ll be impossible for them to make anything appear without the drones or whatever becoming obvious. This will help me prove once and for all that this is all a sham. “That’s an excellent idea.”
I grab my crystal in one hand and extend the other. What to wish for? What I could most use is a clean pair of panties. I ran that cleaning cloth over them, and it worked wonders, but it’s not completely the same. But no way in hell am I saying that in front of Branikk and the cameras. Besides, they’d probably give me a red lace g-string that would floss my butt crack instead of anything I’d want to wear.
Ah, I know. Even in airplane mode, my phone’s on its last legs. “I wish for a new cell phone battery.”
Nothing happens. Ha! I bet they didn’t have one of those ready. This is fun. What else will they not have?
“Earphones.” No. “A scrunchie.” Nothing. “Lip balm.” Nope.
I continue on, with Branikk occasionally asking me what the things I’m asking for are. After a while, the shine wears off. I’ve proven they can’t deliver anything while we’re riding, but it feels like I’m the only one who got the memo that I’ve blown the hoax wide open.
In fact, Branikk says, “It’s all right. The other witches all had to practice for a while before their magic worked, too.”
Is that their explanation?
I pinch the top of my nose, right between my eyes.
All of this is getting hella old. I long for the familiarity of the Ferris wheel, of working on its motor until it hums just as sweet as you please. There weren’t any hot, naked actors painted green, making me feel lots of really confusing things. There was just the motor and my trusty wrench and a job well done.
My crystal warms on my chest, and a zing of electricity shoots through me like I just touched a live wire.
Calliope music plays a cover of a Beatles song. It’s the familiar sound of a single amusement-park ride made strange because it’s all alone instead of mixed with the million other sounds of a carnival.
“By the goddess!” Branikk’s body goes rock hard behind me, his arm tightening around me in alarm. “What is that ?”
We break through the trees onto the bank of a river.
A river with a big honking Ferris wheel sitting right in the middle of it!