That was enough to exhaust even someone with Kes’s restless energy. And I’d also learned that he rarely slept more than four hours a night. He liked to go to bed with me—yeah, he really liked that—and he liked to wake up with me, but I knew now that he often disappeared for two or three hours in the middle of the night. Sometimes he’d be sitting outside the RV, staring up at the stars, sometimes doing crunches or push-ups in the living area to try and burn off energy. His brain was never quiet, and he’d be thinking up new routines for the Daredevils’ show, or increasingly of late—ever since we’d arrived back at the cabin—every last detail of the World Record attempt he was planning for February.
But there was one way of making him shut off that busy brain.
“Holy fuck, Aimee!” he growled, his voice rough from sleep.
I stared up at him, watching his chest heave as his eyes slid open, dark with lust, stormy with want.
His hips bucked as I sucked more of him into my mouth, feeling heady from the control that allowed me to reduce such a powerful man to a quivering mess.
His fingers twisted in my hair, tighter and tighter. He was trying not to force my head down, even though I could tell he really wanted to. But then he lost a little more control, so I bared my teeth, making him hiss with pain and pleasure. It turned me on to crazy levels, and Kes was already far gone.
He chanted a string of curse words, tugging my hair brutally. I’m not even sure he knew what he was doing.
I could feel every muscle in his hard body tense, and his cock swelled, hot and alive in my mouth. Pulses of cum hit the back of my throat, making my eyes water. I swallowed around him, and he swore in a long, feral groan.
I sat back on my heels, smiling slightly as his rapid breathing gradually eased.
When he looked like he was just about conscious, I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips.
“Happy birthday, Kes.”
His eyes were silver now as he grinned up at me.
“Oh, yeah! My birthday. Holy shit, a birthday blowjob! I think I woke up in one of Tucker’s dreams.”
I slapped his chest. “I really hope I’m not in Tucker’s fantasies!”
Kes’s eyes narrowed. “That fucker had better not have dreams about you.”
I leaned down again to kiss the pout off of his lips, but then he hooked his hands around my shoulders and pulled me closer, tasting himself in my mouth, possessive, controlled again.
“You want breakfast in bed?” I offered. “It’s your birthday—we can do whatever you want.”
His eyes glittered. “Yeah, I want to eat . . . you.”
“But . . .”
That was as far as I got before he sat up, gripping my hips and tossing me onto my back. My feet tangled in the covers, but Kes wrestled them free until I was spread out beneath him.
He muttered to himself and wet his lips.
One long, leisurely lick upwards was all it took for me to arch up off the bed.
“Oh yeah, birthday breakfast,” he murmured.
We finally fell out of bed around lunchtime, and only then because my muscles ached from the workout Kes had put me through. No doubt he could have kept it up all day—and I mean that literally—but I needed a break.
Not only that, we had guests arriving soon, and I had food to prepare and a birthday cake to decorate.
Kes sauntered down the stairs looking, well, like he’d had a lot of birthday sex, smiling with that lazy satiated expression that suited him.
I, on the other hand, looked like I’d just got off my camel after a long and arduous ride across the Gobi desert.
I was surprised to see Tucker laying on his back in the middle of the kitchen floor. Kes stepped over him and flicked on the switch for the coffee maker.
“In case you’re interested, I’m fixing your damn stove,” Tucker said, his head still somewhere inside my oven.
Kes kicked him in the leg as he passed. “Tucker, get your ass off of my floor—you’re making the place look messy.”
Tucker swore and sat up rubbing his knee. “You’re a happy fucker,” he grunted. “Just ‘cause you got laid and . . . um . . . morning, Aimee.”
I shot him a death glare and he stuck his head back inside the oven.
“Pancakes?” I asked, smiling sweetly at Kes.
“Nah, just coffee,” he smiled. “I’ll eat later.”
“I’ll have pancakes,” Tucker said, his voice echoing from the oven.
“No one asked you,” Kes answered cheerfully.
Tucker muttered some more, so I made him a batch of pancakes to thank him for fixing the stove.
Then I put the guys to work setting long trestle tables outside and scrubbing them clean. It was mid December and the high wouldn’t be any more than around 50 or 55, but with the number of people coming, eating outside was the only option.
All the food that I had ready for Kes’s birthday party was laid out, looking delicious and colorful: platters of cold cuts and cheese, salads, fried chicken wings, ribs, Oreos, and a lot of Jello. I saw Tucker helping himself as he carried out the dishes. As soon as he’d put them down, Kes tackled him to the ground and they were rolling around in the dirt.
I left them to it, but a moment later, they were both wiping themselves off, and Tucker came back to finish fixing the oven, while Kes carried out the rest of the food.
I smiled to myself, then collected Kes’s birthday cake out of the tiny pantry, which wasn’t really much more than a cupboard with a long shelf.
I wished that Mirelle and Zef could be here, but school hadn’t finished for winter break yet and Zef was in Savannah, so they were both missing the party. But a load of other people were coming: Ollo, Madame Cindy and Madame Sylva, Zach and Luke, Sid the clown and his on-again off-again girlfriend-slash-assistant, Cheryl, as well as a bunch of Kes’s carnie friends. I’d been told to expect about fifty people. Unfortunately Con and Hilde couldn’t make it either, but Kes’s carnie family would be there.
I heard the sound of tires bumping over our rutted lane, and the next minute Zach stuck his head around the door.
“Knock! Knock!”
“Zach!”
I threw my arms around his neck, hugging the ever-living daylights out of him.
He caught me easily, laughing happily.
“Looks like Aimee’s my girl, Kestrel!”
Zach knew he was treading on dangerous ground. It didn’t matter that he was gay; Kes didn’t like any man talking about me like that—and Zach knew it. Maybe he thought prodding the grizzly would be safer on his birthday.
“Get your greasy grifter hands off of my girl,” Kes said, not entirely joking.
Zach let me down, grinning broadly. Then he walked over and gave Kes a firm hug.
“Happy birthday, brother,” he said softly.
Kes hugged him back, his irritation forgotten.
“Thanks, man.”
Luke walked in behind Zach while the guys were preoccupied, so I was the only person who saw the flash of jealousy on his face as Zach hugged Kes.
As always, it was Tucker who broke the moment.
“When you’ve finished tripping all over me, fuckers!” he grumbled, pulling his head out of the oven. “I’m busy right now, but I’d be happy to ignore you later.”
“Sorry, man,” Zach laughed. “Didn’t see you down there. Has living with the love birds made you want to put your head in the oven, because you know that works better with the gas turned on?”
“Stick to managing your health and safety shit, ‘cause you just ain’t funny,” Tucker protested.
I smiled happily—I’d missed my boys. I wished again that Zef could have been here, too.
Then I walked over and gave Luke a quick hug. I didn’t want him to feel left out. I knew Kes was kind of distant with him, and when I’d asked about it, Kes just said that he didn’t like fakes. I took that to mean that he thought Luke should have been honest with his family about his sexuality and that he’d met somebody. Bu
t you know, Kes was the last person who should have been critical about someone who wanted to keep secrets, especially when it came to family. I said that to him, and he just grunted that he didn’t want Zach to get hurt.
Kes was closer to Zach than his own brother, and as he always said: cut one carnie and they all bleed.
Luke hugged me quickly, a shy smile on his face.
“Did you bring your guitar?” I asked.
“Sure did,” he grinned, relaxing.
“I’m really looking forward to hearing you play again.”
He ducked his head and I caught Zach smiling at him. They really were cute together.
Then I heard more cars coming down the road, so I yelled at everyone to finish carrying out the rest of the food, the paper plates and silverware, and Tucker and Luke headed off to build up the bonfire so we could make s’mores later.
Kes went out to meet his guests, and I hastily finished icing the enormous cake I’d made for him. I was good at baking, but not so hot on piping. Even so, my decoration held a reasonable resemblance to a Ferris wheel, and the sprinkles looked like carnival lights. I stroked my Ferris wheel necklace and couldn’t help smiling.
As a finishing touch, I put a strawberry on each tiny bucket seat on the sugar Ferris wheel, just to make it look pretty.
“Aaaagh!”
A shrill shriek sounded in my ear as a leathery paw reached over my shoulder and stole a strawberry.
“What the . . . ?”
Ollo came hurrying toward me. “Stop shouting! You’re frightening him.”
I stood with my hand on my heart, praying for it to slow down before I had a heart attack.
Ollo was holding a miniature gray and white monkey who was staring at me with jewel-like eyes and an accusing expression.
“She didn’t mean it, Bo,” he said soothingly. “She’s a nice lady. You’ll like her.”
Kes was at my side, his large hands reaching out for the tiny monkey, and a huge smile on his face.
“Damn, Ollo! Where did you find this little critter? Hey, fella!”
And the little monkey hopped from Ollo’s arms to Kes’s, as if it knew that he was a safe harbor. Then he turned his jet black eyes at me and screeched.
“Aw, no, don’t be like that,” Kes crooned. “Aimee’s cool. I know she can be kind of scary, but you’ll like her.”
“I am not scary!” I huffed.
Kes winked at me, then grinned as small paws wrapped around his neck and the little monkey burrowed into his t-shirt.
“Happy birthday, Kestrel,” Ollo said with a huge smile.
“You’re shitting me!” Kes gasped.
“Nope. This is Bojangles. He also answers to Bo.”
“You’re giving him a monkey?” I asked disbelievingly, as a slow smile spread across my face.
“Yep. Got him from a guy who knows a guy. Bo’s about 15 and needs a new home. He’s a Kaapori capuchin—kissing cousin to Mr. Albert,” Ollo said thoughtfully.
“Damn, he’s cute,” Kes said softly. “Aimee?”
I knew what he was asking, if we could keep the little guy. Seeing the glow of happiness on his face, how on earth could I say no, and honestly, why would I want to?
“Of course,” I said.
“Hey, Bo, come and meet your new mommy,” Kes said in a sing-song voice.
I swear my ovaries startled awake. I’d never seen Kes like this before. He’d loved Mr. Albert, but they’d been more like friends; he was talking to Bo like a child.
Kes rocked him in his arms, and eventually Bo was brave enough to look at me, those shiny button eyes begging for affection. He chattered softly and tugged on Kes’s t-shirt.
“Go on, go to Mommy,” and the little guy cautiously transferred himself from Kes to me, snuggling into my neck.
He was the size and weight of a newborn baby, no more than ten pounds, and his tiny paws were childlike. He wore a worried little frown on his face as he looked around, taking everything in.
Kes put his arms around us both, and Zach took a photograph.
“The proud parents,” he laughed.
“You’re blushing,” Kes whispered in my ear.
“Am not!”
He laughed lightly and turned to meet some other people who were arriving, but before he did, he leaned down and whispered again.
“You’ll be amazing with our kids, Aimee. One sexy fucking mama.”
He strolled away before I had a chance to react, although I’m not sure what I would have said. I might have a snappy comeback in, ooh, one or two days . . . if I worked at it.
Bo seemed to have forgiven me for screaming when I first met him, and attached himself to my back while I finished Kes’s cake. And it may have helped that I fed him strawberries every now and then.
Outside, I could hear Luke playing his guitar, and a couple of others had joined in. They were jamming to some old Lynard Skynard classics like ‘Freebird’ which always made me think of Kes. Or rather, it made me think of the summers when we were kids: he was always traveling on, and I was always being left behind. But not anymore.
After a while, Bo got bored and jumped off my back. I watched him for a moment, exploring his new home. He seemed happy enough.
But while I was finishing the cake, I heard a crash behind me, and Bo ran shrieking as our Christmas tree wobbled dangerously. Decorations rained down and bounced across the floor.
“There are plenty of trees to climb outside,” I said to Bo, wagging my finger.
He bared his teeth and shook his head, then scampered out of the door.
Sighing, I cleaned up the mess, then finished the cake and carried it outside to a round of applause. Kes wrapped his arms around me and kissed my neck. Bo gave him an admonishing look and ran over to sit on Ollo’s lap.
“That cake looks amazing, baby,” Kes said. Then his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m imagining putting some of that frosting on your pretty little titties with a strawberry on top.”
And I knew he was telling the truth because I could feel his semi pressing against my ass.
“Keep imagining and you might get lucky later,” I murmured.
That earned me a very hot look and Kes kissed me deeply, to the accompaniment of hooting and hollering.
But then some more carnies arrived in their RV, people that I didn’t know, so I walked over with Kes to welcome them.
People ate and drank, guzzling everything we had; then the bottles of bourbon were brought out and passed around.
It had been a long season for everyone, and most of them had been on the road for eight or nine months; they were ready to party. I didn’t know how other outfits were run, but Zach had a zero tolerance policy on anyone who operated heavy machinery when they’d been drinking or were hung-over, and the carnival owners ordered random drug tests, although I didn’t know if that was standard.
Guess they had a lot of catching up to do on the partying front. When I saw them like this, it amazed me even more that Kes had never been tempted to drink—it was everywhere. And a lot of the carnies smoked, something else that he’d never wanted to do. Maybe when you grow up in a carnival, the only way to rebel is to walk a straight line—if you could ever put that in the same sentence with my wild Kestrel.
It wasn’t long before the rival clown troupes were trying to out-prank each other. We were all in danger of getting soaked when they started tossing around buckets of water. Bo ran away and hid inside our RV. We found him later, asleep in Tucker’s bed. Or rather Tucker found him, letting out a rather girly squeal. I definitely wasn’t going to let him forget that.
Of course it was Ollo who brought out the fire-breathing torches.
“For old times, Kestrel?” he said, and everyone cheered.
It was twilight, and the brilliant colors over the ocean were softening from vivid pinks to mauves and quiet blues.
Kes’s eyes glittered as he picked up one of the torches and lit it from the bonfire.
A chill ran down my spine.
Kes didn’t need alcohol or drugs—this was his addiction: adrenalin, danger.
The flames danced around his body, but it was the fire inside him that burned the brightest.
For me, the worst bit was when he leaned back and swallowed the flames, closing his mouth over the blazing torch. I hated that, even though Kes knew what he was doing.
I saw Madame Cindy watching me, her hard eyes a match for her stony face. I had to look away, wondering if I’d upset her somehow. But it was Madame Sylva who came to sit next to me, her tiny bird-like body frail with age.
“Well, deary, the carnival is in your heart now.”
“Yes, it is,” I smiled.
“Not an easy choice to love a man who is free.”
I wanted to ask what she meant, but really, I could make a hell of a good guess. Kes was bound by fewer rules than us ordinary folk. He wasn’t easy to love in many ways, but he’d stolen my heart years ago: I was only complete when we were together.
“Difficult times ahead,” she said, almost sadly. “But you’ll be strong enough for both of you.”
“How difficult?” I asked, anxiously. “What do you see?”
But Madame Cindy interrupted us.
“Mom, you need to take your medication now.”
“Oh, I hate those pills,” she complained.
“I know, but those pills keep you alive.”
“Stuff and nonsense! Who wants to live forever?” she muttered, getting up and following her daughter anyway.
Kes took her place and a whiff of smoke and paraffin mixed with spicy musk clung to his skin. He wrapped his arm around me and I leaned into him.
“This is the first time we’ve been together for your birthday.”
“Yeah,” he said contentedly. “It’s been fucking awesome. Birthday blowjob . . .”
I hushed him, looking around to see who’d heard. Tucker winked at me, and my cheeks heated.
Kes grinned. “Best birthday ever.”
“It’s not over,” I whispered to him. “You have cake.”
His body stiffened, and he looked like he was about to toss me over his shoulder and run to our bedroom.
“Later,” I whispered against his neck. “And don’t forget the strawberries.”