Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

T he final act concludes with a resounding applause that reverberates through the tent, echoing the pounding of my heart. I step into the ring, the bright lights illuminating every corner, every face turned toward us in admiration. The performers gather around me, their eyes shining with a mixture of relief and triumph.

Cat is the first to reach me, her face flushed with exhilaration. “You did it!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug.

Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I can’t help but laugh as I hug her back.

“We all did,” I say. “You were an incredible Juliet.”

Felix swaggers over, exhilaration making him look almost happy. Almost, because he’s always got that tragic air. Which is what made him so great at his role. “What about Romeo?”

“Couldn’t have done it without you and your terrible life decisions.”

Wolfgang steps forward, his usual stoic demeanor softened by pride. “Sienna, you did a good thing here. You kept us together when everything was falling apart.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re a family.”

Cat’s eyes glisten. “ We are a family.”

“Three cheers for our creative director,” Felix says.

No one misses a beat. Performers are busy changing, some heading out to sign autographs for the kids. There are operations folks back here. Everyone stops to shout, “Hip hip hooray,” and then shout and hoot in my general direction.

Goose bumps run over my skin. Shit.

“Who brought onions in here?” I say, wiping my eyes. “It’s probably bad luck to have them backstage in a circus, like entering the ring on your right foot.”

“Left foot,” someone calls.

This sets off a round of arguing over the many superstitions that make up the circus. No one seems to doubt their validity. The arguments seem to be more along the lines of which ones lead to worse luck than the others.

Tricks barks happily at our feet, wagging his tail to join in the discussion.

I give a watery laugh.

Cat ruffles his fur and showers him with praise for bringing her poison. The circus might have been Logan’s dream initially, but tonight proved it’s ours too—every single one of us.

Logan steps into view. My heart pounds. The chatter among the cast dies instantly, all eyes turning to him. He looks stark and severe, but he’s here. That’s all that matters.

“You came,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out.

He nods, his gaze sweeping over the assembled performers. “I couldn’t miss this,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “The show was incredible. Each one of you performed a miracle tonight.”

Caterina is the first to break the spell. She rushes forward, wrapping her arms around Logan in a fierce hug. “Boss!” she exclaims, her voice muffled against his chest.

That seems to open the floodgates. The rest of the cast surges forward, surrounding Logan with hugs, handshakes, and words of welcome. I hang back, watching as he’s enveloped by the love and admiration of our circus family.

Felix claps Logan on the shoulder, grinning. “Knew you couldn’t stay away for long.”

Logan’s lips quirk in a small smile, but I can see the strain behind it. He’s been through hell, and it shows in every line of his face, every careful movement.

His eyes find mine over the heads of the others, and for a moment, no one else exists.

“You were amazing tonight,” he says.

I try to act like this is a very normal thing, me meeting him after just planning an entire freaking show at which some tickets went for five thousand dollars. In the circus that he owns. I shove my hand in my hair so he can’t see it tremble. “Glad it looked cool, because I was making that shit up as I went along.”

His smile dims. “You always try to put down your achievements. You still get credit for it if you only did it to survive, only fought back because the world started it. You are incredible. And talented. And also, I have to admit, very forgiving.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Am I?”

“Extremely.”

“I don’t know if that’s a particular trait of mine.”

“You forgive me for acting like an ass, for example.”

“That seems like a lot to forgive.”

“Especially without a proper apology.” He reaches out, his fingers brushing against mine. It’s such a small gesture, but it sends shivers down my spine. “I’m so fucking sorry. I thought I needed space or time or whatever the fuck would make me the person you fell in love with.”

My heart wrenches. Maybe I wanted an apology. Needed one. It still breaks my heart. “Logan.”

“I didn’t understand that you didn’t need that person. He wasn’t real, anymore, the one so damned sure of himself he could kiss a beautiful girl and offer her a ride out of town and not think it would change anything. That he wouldn’t have to face his demons.”

“Your demons are pretty evil.”

“What I didn’t know is that you never fell for that guy. He was a myth, but you always saw the real me. With all my shadows and bullshit. With everything. That’s how you wanted me. I was just me.”

I look up at him, my heart in my throat.

“It’s our dream now,” he says. “Yours. Mine. If you’ll have me.”

The words hang between us, heavy with promise and unspoken fears.

“I’m afraid you’re not real,” I confess, my voice barely more than a whisper.

His hand tightens around mine. “We’ll talk more,” he replies, his gaze never leaving mine. “I have some things I need to say.”

Logan greets each and every cast member by name. His voice carries a quiet authority, but there’s warmth in it too, a genuine gratitude that makes everyone he speaks to stand a little taller.

“Your juggling was on point tonight.”

“Great job. Your tumbling act was gorgeous.”

One by one, they beam at him, soaking up his praise. I can’t blame them—Logan’s approval means everything to this ragtag family of ours. But impatience gnaws at me. I need to talk to him, need to understand what he’s thinking after everything we’ve been through.

Finally, the tent starts to empty out. Performers trickle away in pairs and small groups, their laughter and chatter fading into the night. The stands are deserted now, wooden benches standing silent sentinel under the moonlight that filters through the tent flap.

Logan wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. His embrace is warm, solid, grounding. The scent of him—sawdust and sweat—fills my senses, a heady reminder of everything we’ve fought for.

“Thank you for the beautiful show,” he murmurs against my hair. His voice is thick with emotion, every word a caress. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me. How much you mean to me.”

My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing his words. I tilt my head back to look up at him, my eyes searching his face for any hint of the pain that still lingers beneath the surface.

“I learned how to believe in the circus from you,” I confess, my voice trembling with sincerity and love. “You’ve always been the heart of this place, Logan. You taught me what it means to have faith in something bigger than ourselves.”

His gaze intensifies, dark eyes locking on to mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. The air between us crackles with anticipation, every breath we take drawing us closer together.

“You kept it alive,” he whispers, his voice rough and desperate. “You kept me alive.”

The distance between us disappears as we slowly lean in, our breaths mingling in the scant space left between our lips. Time seems to stretch and contract all at once, each second an eternity as we hover on the brink.

Then our lips meet in a passionate and desperate kiss. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a promise, a release, a thousand unsaid words and shared pains. His lips are soft but insistent against mine, and I respond with equal fervor, pouring everything into that connection.

His hands tangle in my hair, pulling me even closer if that’s possible. My fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, holding on to him like he’s my lifeline.

My hands instinctively find their way to Logan’s chest, loving the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. His heart beats steadily against my palm, a rhythm that matches my own racing pulse. Our bodies press against each other, the heat between us growing with every passing second.

Logan’s hands roam over my body, his touch igniting a fire within me. He traces the curve of my waist, the dip of my hips, and the swell of my breasts. Each caress sends a shiver down my spine, leaving me breathless and wanting more.

I gasp as his fingers brush against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. He leans in closer, his lips finding mine in a passionate kiss that leaves me dizzy with desire. Our tongues dance together, exploring and tasting each other with a sense of urgency that only heightens the intensity of our connection.

The sounds of our heavy breathing and whispered words of sex fill the empty tent, creating an intimate symphony that echoes through the air. I can feel the rough fabric of Logan’s shirt beneath my hands, the texture contrasting with the smoothness of his skin. I tug at the hem, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and stomach.

Logan’s hands move to the zipper of my dress, slowly sliding it down and exposing the lace of my bra. He cups my breasts in his hands, his thumbs brushing against my nipples through the thin fabric. I moan softly, arching my back and pressing myself further into his touch.

His lips leave mine, trailing kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. I tilt my head back, giving him better access as he continues his exploration. His mouth finds the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I gasp as he nips and suckles at the skin there.

My hands roam over his body, over the strength and power that lies beneath the surface. I trace the lines of his tattoos, following the intricate patterns and designs that cover his arms and shoulders. Each one tells a story, a piece of the puzzle that is Logan Whitmere.

As our bodies move together, tension builds in the air. The fire that Logan ignited within me is now a raging inferno, consuming every thought and desire. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, and he has the same urgency.

Logan’s hands move to the waistband of my panties, sliding them down my legs and leaving me completely exposed. I step out of them, kicking them aside as I wrap my arms around his neck. He lifts me up, carrying me over to a nearby crate and setting me down on top of it.

Rough wood abrades my skin, the texture adding to the sensory overload that is consuming me. Logan’s hands are everywhere, touching and caressing every inch of my body. His cock presses against me. I need him inside me.

“Logan,” I whisper, my voice barely audible above the sound of our heavy breathing. “I need you.”

He looks into my eyes, his gaze filled with desire and love. “I need you too, Sienna,” he replies, his voice husky with emotion.

And with that, he enters me, filling me completely and sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer as we move together in perfect harmony. The sounds of our lovemaking fill the tent, a symphony of passion and desire that echoes through the air.

My body arches in pleasure as Logan’s lips trail down my neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake. The roughness of his stubble against my soft skin makes me burn. Each touch ignites a new fire within me. The center stage, bathed in moonlight, becomes our sanctuary, the sawdust and the faint scent of popcorn our bizarrely beautiful aphrodisiac.

Logan’s hands roam over my body, tracing every curve and line as if it were a sacred ground. His touch is rough yet gentle, a contradiction that drives me wild.

Logan’s mouth moves from mine, trailing kisses down my neck, his stubble scraping lightly against my skin. I shiver, my breath hitching as he lingers on the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. His hands roam over my body, strong and sure, tracing the curve of my waist, the swell of my hips.

He lifts me effortlessly, setting me down on the edge of a prop table, the wood rough and cool against my bare thighs. His eyes, dark and intense, lock on to mine as he kneels before me. My heart pounds in my chest, anticipation coursing through my veins like wildfire.

Logan’s hands slide up my thighs, his touch firm yet gentle. He runs his hands up my bare legs, possessing me inch by inch. I can feel the heat of his breath against my skin, sending shivers of pleasure up my spine.

His gaze never leaves mine as he leans in, his breath hot against my most intimate place. I gasp as his tongue flicks out, tasting me, teasing me. He starts slow, his tongue tracing the length of me, exploring every fold and crevice. My hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles white, as waves of pleasure wash over me.

Logan’s pace quickens, his tongue delving deeper, his lips sucking and nipping at my sensitive flesh. I can feel the tension building within me, a coil winding tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my moans echoing through the empty tent.

His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider, giving him better access. He groans against me, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I can feel his hunger, his desire, matching my own. His tongue circles my clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

My body arches, my hips bucking against his mouth as the coil snaps. Waves of intense pleasure crash over me, leaving me breathless and shaking. Logan’s grip on my thighs tightens, holding me in place as he continues to lick and suck, drawing out every last drop of my orgasm.

I collapse back onto the table, my body limp and sated. Logan stands, his eyes never leaving mine as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The hunger in his gaze sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through me, and I know that this night is far from over.

Our bodies entwine in a passionate embrace, our movements synchronized and filled with raw intensity. The world around us fades away, leaving only the two of us, our breaths mingling, our hearts beating as one. Logan’s lips find mine, his kiss hungry and demanding, stealing the very air from my lungs.

I can feel the strength in his body as he moves against me, his muscles taut and defined. Our bodies move in perfect harmony, our love and desire intertwining like the acrobats in the air. Each thrust, each touch, each kiss is a dance, a performance that only we understand.

The climax of our lovemaking is met with a shared release, our bodies trembling with the intensity of our connection. Logan’s grip on me tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh as he holds on to me like I’m his lifeline. I cling to him just as fiercely, my nails raking down his back, marking him as mine.

Our breaths come in ragged gasps, our hearts pounding in our chests. The world around us is silent, the only sound the echo of our shared pleasure. Logan’s forehead rests against mine, his eyes locked on to mine, the depth of emotion in them stealing my breath away.

“Sienna,” he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire and something more, something deeper. I can see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. This isn’t just sex; it’s a promise, a vow. It’s love in its rawest, most primal form.

Our breaths slowly return to normal as we lie entwined on the center stage, the faint scent of sawdust and greasepaint mingling with the aftermath of our passion. Logan’s arm is draped over me, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on my bare skin. The echoes of our lovemaking still hum through my body, a sweet reminder of our connection.

I tilt my head to look at him, finding his eyes already on me. There’s a softness in his gaze that I haven’t seen in a long time, a vulnerability that makes my heart ache.

“You were amazing tonight,” he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

I smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Logan shakes his head gently. “No, Sienna. This was all you. You kept the circus alive when I couldn’t. You gave everyone hope.”

His words fill me with warmth, a sense of pride swelling in my chest. “I did it for us,” I whisper. “For this family we’ve built together.”

He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to my lips. It’s soft and slow, a stark contrast to the intensity we shared moments ago. “I love you,” he says against my mouth, the words wrapping around my heart like a warm embrace.

“I love you too,” I reply, my voice steady and sure. “More than anything.”

Logan’s fingers brush against my cheek, his touch featherlight. “Thank you,” he whispers, his eyes searching mine for understanding. “For not giving up on me. On us.”

I shake my head slightly, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “I could never give up on you, Logan. You’re everything to me.”

His lips curl into a small smile, one that reaches his eyes and fills them with a spark of hope. “And you’re everything to me,” he says.

We lie there in silence for a while longer, simply basking in each other’s presence. The world outside the tent seems far away and insignificant compared to the love and gratitude that fills this space between us.

As our breaths even out and our bodies relax further into each other’s embrace, I feel a newfound sense of strength and hope blooming within me. We’ve faced so much together and come out stronger on the other side.

“Together,” Logan whispers into the quiet night.

“Always,” I respond, tightening my hold on him as if to anchor myself to this moment forever.