Movement No. 18
Tempest
There is a sparkle in Yasmeena’s eyes as we get up onto the bar, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s as natural as breathing, the two of us just understanding each other’s movements and tells.
Things feel different now, too. I feel like the death of her friend Roxanne pushed us closer towards friendship, and forced me to confront some of the conflicting feelings churning in my gut.
I might have to kill Draven. Hel, I might even have to kill some of the others, but I don’t think I can kill her.
Even if she never forgives me, even if she can’t possibly begin to understand, I will make sure she’s spared.
The people she loves most, too. Khalid and Lilian.
The children. I don’t want to hurt Taryn, either.
If I can, I’ll ensure everyone’s safety. Everyone but Draven.
I’ll simply do what I must, no matter the cost to myself or my sanity.
Yasmeena’s body shifts and she’s straddling me now. It’s a move we’ve done at least a hundred times in the last month or so, but it feels different. She’s looking down at me and smirking.
There’s something so sexy and charged about her today, it feels like it’s rewiring my brain. The way she showed up that asshole yesterday. She’s the only thing that’s been on my mind lately.
Not the strengths and weaknesses of the carnies, not the maps I should probably be making, nope. Just her. And it’s lust. I know it’s lust. You can’t work with a woman this gorgeous in skin-tight clothing every day and not feel at least an ounce of attraction, but it’s really bad.
Maybe it’s her, or maybe I’m just pent up, but whatever the reason, it’s driving me nuts.
“Do you feel like we’re ready?” I ask, my voice breathy.
“Let’s go through it once more,” she says, and I nod.
We start the routine over, going through every pose and movement. It’s more my strength we’re relying on than hers, but she’s flexing her body a lot more. It’s beautiful and we make a great team.
At some point, her knee grinds against my inner thighs, grazing over my clit and I have to fight the moan that threatens to escape my mouth.
“Fucking Hel,” I say as she shifts, pushing her chest up against mine while we’re hanging upside down.
She’s not differing from our routine, but she’s definitely going out of her way to press herself against me, almost teasingly. Or maybe she’s not, and I’m letting my own horny thoughts get in the way of our amazing performance.
I try to ignore the heat sizzling in my abdomen as we finish our final pose and get down from the bar.
I take in a deep breath. “You—”
“Great job up there,” she says, interrupting me. “I’m sweaty, so I’m going to hit the showers. You should, too.”
Every muscle in my body tenses, every hair standing at attention. Yasmeena showers everyday after we’re finished, and I always wait until she’s done before heading in there. She has to have noticed by now, the way I linger right outside the bathroom.
I’m always supposed to be with someone, although that doesn’t seem to be enforced anymore. I’ve been able to walk around freely. I go off to the river everyday and talk with Taryn. Everyone seems to trust me more now, so why is she suggesting I follow her?
Unless I really am reading her intentions correctly.
As if in a fugue state, I follow behind Yasmeena as we make our way towards the bathroom.
It’s a larger structure, one of the few made of wood instead of metal and fabric, and inside are many bathroom stalls and showers.
It’s spacious, enough to where two people could be in there and have no idea there’s someone else just a few walls down.
Except today it feels remarkably small. Suffocating, even.
Yasmeena just stares at me. I get into one of the showers and begin removing my clothes, careful to not let her see me.
What the fuck is wrong with you? She sees you in leotards and bodysuits every day?
Opening the door, I go to throw my clothes down, and catch Yasmeena fully nude as she turns the door handle to the adjacent shower stall.
She has the roundest, prettiest ass I have ever laid eyes on.
She steps inside, the foggy glass ruining my perfect view, and I watch the silhouette of Yasmeena move as she washes off her body.
Get back in your own shower, Tempest.
Hurriedly, I step back inside, and I swear I hear her giggle as I turn the water on. Putting the shampoo into my hands, I run my fingers through my long, silvery-white hair.
I hear a whimpering sound, smell her pheromones, and it’s as though a switch was flipped inside me. A switch I can’t seem to flip back off.
A thin wooden wall is between me and Yasmeena touching herself, and it takes everything in me not to punch a hole right through it. To not open her door and barge right in.
She may have invited me to follow her, but she didn’t invite me inside. I couldn’t cross that line, not now. Not knowing everything I’m about to put her through.
Or maybe I can. Maybe I should. Maybe giving in to this chemistry between us would actually help our campaign. This might be a test, but it’s one I didn’t study for, so I don’t know how to ace it. I’ll just have to create a test of my own.
Wielding my magic, I feel the water as it rushes through the pipes and out of my showerhead above. I follow the pipelines until I can sense the ones running into Yasmeena’s shower and freeze the water. Not enough to break anything, just enough so that her water stops running.
A few moments go by that feel like forever, but nothing happens.
Tap. Tap.
She’s outside my shower door, I can see her silhouette through the foggy glass. The round curves of her hips, the outline of her chest and tail. There are many shower stalls in this bathroom, and she’s free to enter any of them, but she chose mine.
“Hey,” she says as she opens the door and steps inside. “The water in my shower just… stopped working? Really strange, but I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
I am using every bit of self restraint I have not to stare at the pretty, plump pussy I caught a glimpse of as she stepped in, but I grow weaker and weaker by the second.
“Yeah, of course.” I take in a deep breath, steeling every muscle not to grab her and slam her against the glass.
I can smell her arousal and she smells so unbelievably good. I don’t know if I should turn around to give her privacy, or leave. Part of me thinks it’s disrespectful to stay, especially with the way I feel right now, but another part of me knows this is instinctual.
She wouldn’t smell the way she does now if she didn’t want me, too, right?
When we practice trapeze, our height difference barely seems noticeable to me. Here? She looks petite; I feel as though I’m towering over her, and it only adds to my desire.
I ache to hold her, to touch her. I want to lift her up and let her legs wrap around me, pushing her against the glass, but instead I just stare down at her, watching the water hit the back of her head.
Yasmeena bites her lower lip. “Would you help me, princess?”
I struggle to swallow, my voice coming out heavier than I intend it. “Help you with what?”
“The shampoo,” she says, and looks up at the bottle behind me.
I go to hand it to her, but she’s already turned around.
Fuck it.
Taking a handful of shampoo, I work my fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp and ears. Yasmeena lets out a soft moan, the sound is like music.
She arches her back, pushing her ass into me, and her tail wraps around my upper thigh.
All the women I’ve been with have had tails similar to mine. Fluffy and large, I’ve always felt like they were in the way, but Yasmeena’s feels so much more expressive. Just like her fingers and hands and limbs, it moves with her, pulling me closer into her naked form.
My hands move to her shoulders, rubbing them for a few moments, before I slowly shift down to cup her breasts. They’re supple and soft, and I pinch her piercing-hard nipples.
“Hey,” she lets out, her voice heavy.
“Hey.” I brush my lips against her neck, bringing them up so I can bite her ear. She moans again in response, and I can feel my core pulse with need.
I have never been so grateful to be tall.
My fingertips traipse down the muscular planes of her perfect stomach as I inch myself closer, gently tracing her pussy.
Instantly, I regret not trimming my claws. It’s possible I’m going to need them when I take out the half-demon, but I don’t even care. It would be worth it to feel how wet she is right now.
I choose to tease her entrance instead, careful not to scratch, and she moans when I finally circle her clit. Arching back into me, Yasmeena’s entire body writhes with pleasure.
She’s unnervingly beautiful like this. The way she’s standing on the balls of her feet, the curve of her back, how her eyes flutter open and closed.
My fingers work her in a feverish rhythm, yet I’m desperate for more. More of her body, her attention, her time. All I can do is covet her, but I want to worship her.
Yasmeena cries out my name, her entire body undulating, and a new feeling rushes through me, like an injection into my bloodstream: fear. Not just any fear, but fear of the unrequited.
The door to the bathhouse creaks open and my hand instinctively shifts to cover Yasmeena’s mouth. Pulling her into me, I press my ass against the glass door, hoping to conceal her body with mine.
“Tempest,” Lilian says from outside the door. I hope she can’t tell how heavily I’m breathing.
“Yeah?” I say, trying really hard not to sound irritable without reason. I don’t know Lilian enough to hate her, though that seems to be my default around here.
“Have you seen Yasmeena?”
“Nope,” I say, a little too chipper.
“Weird. Okay, thank you,” she says, and the door closes behind her.
I take my hand off of Yasmeena’s mouth, shock wracking through me at Lilian’s appearance, yanking me out of my lust-fueled haze.
“I should probably go,” Yasmeena says, and I nod.
“Probably.” I hold her hand in mine, not wanting to let her.
“Thank you?” she says, as if unsure.
One corner of my mouth curls up into a smirk. “Anytime.”
Yasmeena opens the shower door and gets out, drying herself off with one of the fluffy towels before slipping out the door, and I turn the water temperature to cold, letting it wash my heated emotions away.
I’m not sure how we got here, but my brain can’t decipher lust from genuine affection right now. Fuck my life.
Getting out of the shower, I dry myself off before slipping on my clothes. There’s a strange sound coming from outside the bathhouse, but I try to ignore it as I look at myself in one of the mirrors.
I look like a wet dog. A horny, angry wolf who just crossed a very serious line with her fake fiancé. Maybe this changes nothing, but I’m terrified it changes everything.
Opening the door, I catch Baelor leaning against the exterior wall of the bathhouse.
“You were in there for a while,” he quips, and I furrow my brows.
“Why are you out here?”
He gives me a playful, mischievous smile, his face still clad in his usual clown makeup. I’m realizing now I have no idea what he looks like without it. “I’m here to watch you.”
I shake my head. “You weren’t assigned to me. Nobody’s been assigned to me in days.”
“Yes, and I think that’s a mistake.” He brushes a finger against the fur of my wrist. “I wanted to… take one… for the team.”
The emphasis he places on take one sends my stomach churning, and I make to escape from him. He grabs my wrist, and I’m taken aback by his boldness.
I’m tall, but Baelor is taller. He’s older, too. I doubt he’s stronger than me and I know he’s not more powerful than me—I’m not even sure he has access to magic—but there’s something overwhelming about him and the evil gleam in his eyes that unnerves me.
I can feel the tattoo on my spine vibrate, as if waiting for me to make my next move, and I take that as a sign from the lupion goddess. Splaying my fingers out, I wield water from the bathhouse and use it to freeze his feet to the ground.
Baelor struggles in place as I stare him down.
“I was just trying to be nice,” he says, and spits at me. “Fucking ugly bitch.”
Walking away from him, I head away from camp. I don’t know where I’m going or who I’m going to talk to, but I have to get away from this, if even for a moment.
Taryn pops into my mind, and I decide that’s where I’ll go. I could use a friend right now, and hopefully she can too.