Page 9 of Carnival Shadows

“You know how it is,” I reply. “Some nights, you wish someone was there to hold you, but that’s the price we pay for our freedom.”

She swallows visibly. “I suppose it’s not for everyone.”

My smirk tells her I know what she’s really thinking. That she’s not just thinking about the lonely nights, but the lonely nights with me. I wonder if she’s imagining my body over hers, my hands holding her down, or if she’d prefer to take control, tasting and teasing every inch of my skin.

“Tell me, Eden,” I say softly, pushing the topic again, “how often do you think about me? Do you touch yourself while imagining all the things I could do to you?”

Her head snaps up, cheeks flushing. “I don’t?—”

“Don’t what?” My voice drops. “Don’t think about my hands on your thighs? My mouth between them? Bet your pretty little cunt gets so wet.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” she snaps, cheeks even redder now.

She doesn’t deny it.

A laugh escapes me, breaking the heavy tension. “I’m saying what you’re too polite to.”

Her eyes narrow. “So you assume I’m imagining you between my thighs?”

“I’m not assuming.” I lean forward with my elbows on my knees. “Because I know what that look in your eyes means. I’ve seen it before. You want it rough, don’t you, Eden? Want me to take control? Make you scream?”

This time, she doesn’t deny it. Just watches me with that dark, hungry gaze. After a moment, she clears her throat.

I sit back, placing my hands behind my head and stretching my legs. “Fuck, you’re going to make me work for it, aren’t you?”

Her cheeks flame at that, the glint in her eyes telling me she knows exactly what I’m talking about. “You’re quite confident, aren’t you, Remy?”

A smirk tugs at my lips. “Not confident, Eden. Sure.” I lean forward again, enjoying the way her breath hitches. “Some things you just know.”

“Oh?” Her chin tilts up, daring me to continue.

“Mhm.” I nod, enjoying the game we’re playing, the undercurrent of sexual tension thrumming between us. “I can tell you’re the kind of woman who needs a firm hand, a hard fuck to remind you who’s in control. Someone who’ll make you come so hard you can’t walk straight for a week, but then you’ll be craving more.”

She wets her lips, gaze dropping to my mouth. Suddenly, she straightens, visibly composing herself.

“Well,” she says, voice steady, “I’m sure that’s true of many women. Perhaps your experience is limited, but?—”

“Limited experience? That’s cute. Want me to prove otherwise?”

Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I think we’re done here.” She starts gathering her papers, movements jerky and rushed. “Thank you for your time.”

“Running away already?” I cock my head. “And here I thought you wanted to understand the carnival lifestyle completely.”

“I have enough for my story.” Eden shoves her recorder into her bag, avoiding my eyes.

“Do you?” I stretch, noting how her gaze snaps to the movement before darting away. “Seems like you’re missing the most interesting parts.”

She stands abruptly, chair scraping against the ground. “I maintain professional boundaries, Mr.—” She pauses, realizing I never gave her my last name.

I smirk. “Just Remy.”

Without another word, she turns and strides toward the tent exit, her dainty shoes clicking against the wooden platform.

“See you around, Eden,” I call after her. “I’m sure you’ll find your way back.”

She falters for just a moment, then disappears through the flap. The scent of her perfume lingers, mixing with the electricity crackling in the air she left behind.

My fingers drum against the arm of my chair. Eden Love is dangerous—smart enough to be a real threat, obsessed enough to keep digging. But watching her try to maintain that professional mask while practically vibrating with suppressed desire...

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