Page 6 of Nightmare's Dance

I lost myself in my work until the light angle changed enough to make me wonder what time it was.

Geraint settled next to me when I looked up. I angled my sketchbook so he could more easily see.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath tickling my ear as he leaned in. “I don’t recall demonic dogs down by the lake, however.”

“What?” I looked more closely at my drawing. Sure enough, I’d added some heavily jowled dogs to the reeds by the lake. They looked out of the painting as if staring at me.

“Wow, I haven’t done that in years,” I said. Ash, my cousin, had always been giving me a hard time about my random fanciful additions to my landscapes. I never actually remembered drawing the creatures, they just showed up as if I hadn’t been aware of their presence consciously, but my brain had acknowledged them by putting them down on paper.

My knight chuckled, though it sounded a little forced—unusual for him.

“What’s up?”

“It’s time for us to get dinner and prepare to head for the gig.”

I wasn’t sure if he was evading my question, or if I imagined that something seemed to be bothering Geraint. He was never bothered, so it must have been my imagination. I let it go, accepting his hand up after packing away my tools.

“You ready to get home?” I asked my lover.

“Yes, as ready as you are.” Geraint squeezed my hand before releasing it.

I turned toward him, and he placed his hands on my waist. His short, sandy blond hair was silky against my fingers as I mussed it. “One more gig, a long overnight drive Robby swears he’s fine with doing, and we’ll be home tomorrow.”

For once Geraint’s smile didn’t make it to his eyes. Something was bothering him, but before I could ask, he kissed me. This wasn’t an everyday kiss, the kind I was used to receiving on the regular. No, this was a soul consuming, I-want-to-meld-with-you-and-never-let-you-go sort of kiss. I dug my fingers into Geraint’s back and pressed my entire body to his. He clutched me against him almost painfully tight.

“I love you, Spark. I almost never say that, but I do. You know that, right?”

“I do, Geraint. What’s wrong?” I frowned, worry chasing away some of the happy feelings that had spread through me moments before.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew.” He kissed the top of my head and gave me a far gentler squeeze before releasing me. My knight picked up my bag and slung it over his shoulder, taking my hand and leading me back toward the road and presumably wherever we were eating for dinner.

He hadn’t answered my question, and that nagged at me a bit. I would have to bring it up again later, but for now, we had a performance to focus on.

***

The lights went down, and I stalked out onto the stage, the red catsuit I wore shimmering in the stage lights. Geraint waited for me on his knees. That was always a lovely sight, especially when shirtless and displaying his impressive muscles, collared, and wearing tight-fitting black pants.

I didn’t have to fake the desire on my face as I sauntered across the floor, my prop strap sliding through my hands. The music had a predatory tone I appreciated.

This was an adult party, and Geraint was risking some silks burns by being shirtless, but it was the last performance for a while, and he had decided to deal. His collar was fabric and a breakaway for safety in the air.

His eyes briefly lifted to meet mine, and I pointed at the floor. He dropped his gaze in submission. I reached Geraint’s side, and the music turned playful.

I ran the strap over his shoulders. He shivered, and I put a finger under his chin and drew his gaze up to mine, before dancing around him, caressing him with the strap and claiming him with my moves.

My knight kept his eyes on me, posture remaining submissive. Once I drew him to his feet, he matched my steps, always letting me lead. The music turned sensual as we moved around each other.

At an uptick in the song, I swept my hand along his neck, then out as if I grabbed a leash. He followed, and I pranced over to the silks and gestured for him to climb. After I mimicked removing the invisible leash, he took to the air, powerful muscles flexing as he made his way up the silks. Not going to lie, I might have drooled on myself a little.

Geraint danced in the silks for a few moves, locking in a foot and posing, wrapping himself up and further adding to the bondage theme of our performance.

The crowd gasped when Geraint dropped, spiraling downward, the silks stopping him short of crashing into the ground. He worked his way upright and climbed back up the silks, this time hooking his legs into the loop we’d tied at the top. This was my cue to start up the fancy drapes—as a friend called them.

My climb was sensual, and when I reached the top, Geraint offered me his hands. We locked wrists, and I flew in his grip, twisting into provocative shapes and sensually wrapping myself around his body, climbing him, dropping into his arms, and dancing through our moves. Finally, he cradled my back, and I arched, feet and hands dangling toward the ground, stomach lifted toward the ceiling, the only thing between me and plummeting to the floor were his hands, but Geraint would never let me fall and I hung there while the crowd cheered. I’d almost forgotten about them for a moment, caught up in the silent communication with my knight in a dance we’d done hundreds of times.

As the music came to the transition, I reached up and shifted my weight until Geraint could maneuver so that we could clasp hands. Then I tangled my legs in the silks and transferred from his sure grasp to the grip of the silks. I twisted my legs until I hung by my hip and wrapped the fabric around me, setting up for a dramatic drop.

The music paused, and I let go as it crashed into a new segment. The crowd gasped again as I fell, then cheered when I came to a stop at the bottom, several feet above the floor. I flipped, holding my arms out and slowly descending the rest of the way to the ground before turning and pointing at Geraint, then toward the ground.

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