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“Come on,” Club says before kicking his door open.
I follow, climbing from the car and coming around to the front where he stands. Before I can ask what we’re doing, he wraps his fingers around my hips and places me on the hood, then he climbs up after me. We sit so we’re leaning against the windshield, our legs stretched out across the hood as we watch the sun slowly descend toward the horizon.
A blanket of peace falls over us until I breathe easier and deeper than I ever have.
“It’s beautiful,” I muse, my eyes locked on the way the sky slowly changes from blue to red to yellow, and then finally purple. The stars blink into existence shortly after, and the moon rises behind us. Sometimes I forget how truly exquisite our world is. I rest my head back against the windshield and absorb the cosmos. It’s been so long since I’ve just been able to look up and enjoy them.
“Have you ever wished you were among them?” Club asks, his eyes on the night sky. “The stars, I mean.”
“Yes,” I admit with a small smile. “There were a few times when Roger locked me outside and made me sleep in the backyard.” When Club turns his head toward me, I sigh. “I’m safe now, so it doesn’t matter, but when I was out there, shivering, I often looked up at the stars and wished I could just . . . fly away. I wished I could be up there, safe and far away.”
“What was his reason for locking you out?” he asks, his fingers clenching his knee in anger on my behalf.
“I don’t remember really,” I reply. “I think once was because I missed a spot while dusting, but to be honest, it could have been anything. Maybe I didn’t cook dinner right. Maybe I didn’t cook what he wanted. Maybe I spoke too long to the cashier at the grocery store. Maybe I didn’t look nice enough that day. If I wasn’t fast enough to greet him when he came home from work, I’d get some kind of punishment.” I glance over at him, my lips turning up in a bitter smile as my eyes trace over his handsome face. “Truthfully, being locked out at night wasn’t so bad, not compared to . . . well, you know.”
His face contorts with anger. “You should have let us kill him.”
I sigh once more, wishing the memory of my husband wouldn’t ruin this moment like so many others. He feels far away right now, and that’s how I want it. I don’t want to live in the past forever. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m safe. Besides, I’m here with you. This is all I need.”
When I reach for his hand, he threads his fingers through mine without hesitation. The warmth of his calloused palm makes my heart race. It’s such a gentle, innocent touch, yet I feel it down to my soul.
“You don’t even know who I am,” he murmurs, watching me closely.
“I know everything I need to know,” I counter, “but you’re welcome to tell me more.”
He smiles. His face is normally stoic, but when he smiles, he’s beautiful. His angular face demands to be touched, so I give into the urge and cup his sharp jawline before pressing my forehead to his.
“You’re welcome to try to scare me, sword swallower,” I whisper, “but I’m not afraid of you.”
He chuckles, and the sound spears right through me. “Who says I want you to be afraid of me?” he asks, threading his hand into my hair and holding me against him as if he’s worried I’ll disappear. “I’d rather you fear losing me.”
“I already do,” I whisper. “All of you . . . the cirque. You’re my home now, and I don’t want to lose you.” The threat from the cards flashes through my mind again, a looming sense of doom I still don’t understand. Neither Hilda nor I have been able to find the answer, and I don’t understand it. Sometimes, the cards can be so forthcoming, but other times, they are vague and mysterious.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Then let me claim you. I don’t want to talk about the past tonight. I’d much rather focus on our future, and mine is with you.”
Club presses his lips to mine in a gentle kiss that surprises me. Our last encounter was fast and rough when we’d been trying to beat the clock before someone else walked in on us. Now, the kiss is encouraging and exploratory, as if he’s searching for answers on my lips. It’s so gentle, it threatens to break my heart, and I almost can’t handle someone being so delicate with me, like I’m worth the effort.
I press my hand against his chest and slip it beneath his button-down shirt to stroke his muscles. The kiss deepens, and his other hand trails down my back to grip my ass and pull me closer to him, grinding me against his hard length. I moan into his mouth, and he swallows the sound. That’s what breaks the dam inside me.
I throw all caution to the wind, despite being out in the middle of nowhere where anyone could drive by and see us at any moment. I want him. I want him right here. I want him right now. I want him to shove the darkness he keeps behind his wall deep inside me. I want him to destroy and remake me. I want to feel his knives on my skin, his tongue between my thighs, and his dick inside me.
“Club,” I murmur into his mouth, and he pauses, sensing my need.
He grins against my lips. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” I reply. “All of you.”
His fingers release my hair and wrap around my throat, splaying across it before he squeezes gently. “How do you want me?”
“Deeply, darkly . . .” I rasp. “Dangerously.”
He leans forward and nips my chin. “As you wish, Queen.”
He flips us and shoves me down on the hood of the car, his body coming over mine. I hit the metal a little harder than I expected, but I hardly care, not when he reaches into his pocket and flips open a pocketknife. It’s small compared to the ones he uses in his show, but it’s wicked sharp, so sharp I know it could slice through skin like a scalpel.
“I like knives,” he purrs, the metal catching on the moonlight.
“No shit.” I wiggle beneath him, begging with my hips.
