One Dirty Night

“Nothing.” Hoisting the book higher on my lap, I smiled. “Enjoy your night.”

His shoulders tensed. The air crackled between us. He shifted as if he wanted to say something or maybe even grab me and bruise me and—

Ella…enough.

Finally, he nodded stiffly. “Thanks.” His eyes lingered on me, but I kept mine firmly on the scientific text. “You have a good night too.” He headed toward the door, tucking his keys into his pocket from the bowl on the sideboard.

Awkwardness settled over us, which wasn’t anything new. We never fully relaxed around each other. Probably our own damn fault. We never talked, so how could we relax? We were practically strangers.

“I guess I’ll see you soon.” His gruff voice made my hair stand on end.

Before I could over analyse what he meant, he disappeared through the door and slammed it closed.

I sat there, heart bucking. What did he mean by that? ‘See me tomorrow’ soon or ‘see him at the big top’ soon?

Good lord, you need help.

There was no way in hell Nick Davis was going to a circus full of sex. No way. Hell would have to freeze over first. He’d actually have to get an erection, and I seriously doubted he even had a cock in his trousers, even if I had spied a sizeable bulge before he stalked out of the door.

Dammit!

Closing my book, I rubbed my face.

This was ridiculous.

Turning twenty-four had broken something inside me.

Maybe I should go to bed early. Would that cure my affliction? I could even use my vibrator while Nick wasn’t in the house.

I could get rid of this hot and bothered nonsense and go to bed like a good little girl.

Leaping to my feet, I hugged my book.

Good plan.

Excellent plan.

So why the hell was that half-naked carnival guy parading around in my thoughts again? The sledgehammer flung over his shoulder and that naughty little wink drawing me in like a stupid prey to a dangerous predator.

Just the knowledge that the big top was only a ten-minute walk away made my blood burn with need. It wasn’t even about sex at this point. It wasn’t even the fact that I hated myself for getting so boring that I hadn’t celebrated my birthday.

It was about freedom.

Being free, if only for one night.

Living an ultimate fantasy with no one to judge or condemn me.

Just one dirty night where I could be someone other than a lab rat with no life.

The heavy book thudded against the floor as I gave up.

Running down the corridor, I burst into my room, my mind full of images of me strolling into the big top in my white lab coat with high kitten heels and nothing else.

For one night, I would pretend.

For one night, I would indulge in things I never let myself consider. I would explore the parts of me that grew hot and bothered under my sheets at night. I would indulge in the curiosity of what it would be like to kiss another girl. To be dominated by a man…possibly two. To have my every power stripped so I was nothing more than a vessel to take whatever my lover wanted to give me.

What was so wrong with that?