Chapter 5

Chapter Five

D ante

In the quiet sanctuary of the circus office, I spread the financial ledgers across the table with a precision that reflected years of practice. I had invited Ava to review these documents, a gesture of transparency, but also an excuse to draw her closer into the folds of my world—and perhaps, to test the waters of her intentions.

"Ava, could you help me with this section?" I asked, pointing to a column of numbers. As she leaned over to examine the figures, our hands brushed unintentionally, sending a jolt of electricity through me. I watched her reaction closely, a flush creeping up her neck, her focus momentarily disturbed. I masked my smile by turning a page, pretending to scrutinize a line I had read a hundred times before.

My body hummed to life, my cock pressing behind my zipper painfully. I felt her fucking presence and I was practically drunk on it. Finally, feeling like I couldn't trust myself to not do something we both might regret, I suggested we step outside, feeling confined by the office walls that seemed way too fucking close with her around.

"Let me show you around the greatest show on Earth…or in Illinois anyway," I said, grinning as I guided her through the circus grounds. The site was bustling with performers and crew preparing for the night's show. Every so often, I placed a light hand on her back, navigating her through the organized chaos. I could feel the tension between us, a magnetic pull that seemed to draw her in just as strongly as it did me.

"I'm not sure if you noticed but the Misfit Cabaret isn't a just any circus." I said.

"Oh?" She replied.

"We welcome families to the early show, but the after hours show is another experience entirely…"

"What do you mean?" She looked up at me with round, innocent eyes.

I debated exactly how much to reveal. "Well…the after hours show is more like an adult circus-cabaret hybrid, if you will. It's what makes us unique—the performances have an erotic tone. The performers change into more revealing costumes, the music becomes headier—intoxicating with innuendo, and the dancers interact with the crowd. Everything is just…more."

"Oh." She breathed, eyes riveted on me.

I nodded, unwilling to reveal much else. I already feel like I've said too much.

"Is that all?" she finally asked.

"For the most part." A mischevious smirk covered my face.

She rolled her eyes as a charming smile lights her face. "You are a walking, talking mystery, Dante."

The laugh that erupted from me echoes between us. I liked that she's not judging me—or us—this circus is my family. I didn't want to have to choose between her and them—and thankfully I wouldn't have to.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the circus tents as we made our way to the main tent. We took our seats in the empty stands, the rehearsal acts a blur of motion and color in the center ring. "Watch the aerialists here," I murmured, leaning close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body. My words were soft against her ear, and I noticed the subtle shiver that ran through her. It was not lost on me, the power of proximity, and the delicate dance of allure I was engaging in. I wanted to get to know her, what she was really doing here and how I could make sure she never fucking left.

"There's one more thing I'd like to show you," I said, leading her to the training field where the trapeze rigs stood like beacons against the night sky. Surrounded by stars, I showed her the ropes. "Safety first around here," I gestured to the harness and rigging. "Here, let me demonstrate."

I helped her into the trapeze harness, my hands purposefully firm yet gentle as I adjusted the straps around her waist and thighs. The necessary touch felt charged with an unspoken tension, her breath catching slightly as my fingers lingered a fraction too long. The air between us was thick with something unspoken, a mix of caution and chemistry. As I checked the security of the harness one final time, I met her gaze, holding it steady. "All set," I said, my voice a low rumble in the quiet of the night. The air was cool, but the space between was burning with heat. Releasing her from the rig, I stepped back, watching her closely, as she swung smoothly through the night air, a childish look of wonder on her face. She was so beautiful I thought it might nearly kill me, just watching her play like that. I wanted to be the reason for that look on her face every damn day. I tried to remind myself that it was one thing to charm and another to fall. But with Ava, I threw out all the rules.

Ad the swing neared me again, I hooked the ropes in my hands and brought her to me. An intrigued look crossed her eyes and for a minute I lost msyelf. My lips hovered close, only an inch seperating us. When she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, she nearly undid me.

I groaned into the night air, holding myself back from pressing a heated kiss to her lips. "You're trouble for a man like me, Ava."

"Me?" she gasped when I pulled her a fraction of an inch closer and focused my gaze on her lips.

"Every cell of my body wants to kiss you right now."

"What's stopping you?" she uttered.

My eyes fell closed. "Not much."

She didn't reply, jsut kept looking up at me with those deep, expressive eyes.

I sucked in a quick breath, calling on patience and professionalism I didn't know I had. I finally cracked a smile, chuckling softly to break the sexual tension vibrating between us. "You tryin' to be the death of me?"

A soft smile fell on her lips. "You make it so easy."

"Is that so?" I grinned, swinging her away from me and regretting the loss of her in my space instantly.

As we walked back towards the circus lights a minute later, the gravel crunching under our feet, I thought about us. Each moment with Ava was a high-wire act of its own, a balance between desire and restraint, every step calculated but fraught with peril. As the ringmaster, I was used to taking risks, but Ava—she was proving to be my most dangerous act yet. She made me want to change the rules—I loved my life alone, but something down deep made me think this woman might be the reason I finally give up my solitude.

The midday light filtered through the high windows of the dressing room as I scrawled a quick note, my hand steady but my mind a tornado of thoughts and feelings as I thought about Ava. I slipped the folded note into her locker like a silly kid with a schoolyard crush and smiled. The note was an invitation to dinner after tonight's last performance, the words carefully chosen to convey warmth yet tinged with an intimacy that had begun to define our recent interactions. As I closed the locker, I felt a mix of adrenaline and fear coursing through my blood. I didn't ask women out often, or at all. I couldn't remember the last time a woman had even caught my attention.

Hours later, under a canopy of twinkling string lights, I waited outside my caravan for Ava to arrive. I set a table for two, secluded from the rest of the circus grounds. Soft music played from inside the caravan, so when Ava stepped into the light, her eyes met mine, and the world seemed to hold its breath. We settled at the table in silence, and I lifted the covered dishes I'd made for us—chicken and pesto with angel hair pasta, and we shared a meal under the starlit sky.

"You're talented in the kitchen," she commented.

I shrugged, "I like to cook."

"You do?" She asked, her lips parted gently drew me in and begged to be covered with mine. I wanted to be a gentleman for her. I'd never had that desire before, wanting to be better for her scared the hell out of me in ways I couldn't quite explain.

We talked about small things, like the next stop on the schedule—Napierville—and where we went to high school. Minneapolis—me, Aurora—her. Our conversation flowed easily, and each glance, each laugh we shared, drew me deeper under her spell.

I finally asked, "Tell me Ava," she shifted in her chair when I used her name, "do you like it here?"

Her eyes held mine for long moments. I was captured by her. "More than I thought I would, honestly."

She clamped down on her bottom lip as she watched me. I breathed the question that'd been rattling in my mind for a few days now, "Are you afraid of me?"

Her eyes widened, but she shook her head quickly. "No."

I reached across the table, dragging one fingertip along the curve of her palm. "Good. I'm glad."

"Why did you think I might be afraid?"

"Because the way you look at me." I leaned closer. "And the way you bite your lip when you do it." My eyes flicked to her full pink lips. "You look like you either want to run or scream."

"Both," she gasped.

"Excuse me?" I laughed.

"Both. It's both." She clamped down on her lips like she'd just revealed too much.

I chuckled. "Do I make you nervous?"

"Yes," she whispered so softly it went straight to my cock. I had to suppress a groan or bite down on my own damn lip to stop myself from throwing her over my shoulders and taking her into my caravan right now.

Instead, I tried the approach of a gentleman. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Came her quick reply.

I closed the distance between us and cupped her face in my palms. I dusted my lips with hers, groaning when she opened her lips and I breathed her in for the first time. She was mint and honey and so sweet I thought I might lose my mind. I pressed my lips against hers a little harder. Her palms traced my forearms as I held her to me, fighting the urge to never let her go. Hell, I'd move her into my caravan right now if she'd have me.

We finally pulled apart, her sweet lips parted as she gasped for a breath of air.

"I like stealing your breath," I winked.

Her cheeks flushed under the lights over our head. My heart thundered away in my chest when she stood, smiled softly and then blew me a kiss. "I like when you steal my breath too."

I stood, cupping her elbow. "Do you want me to walk you home?"

"No, no it's okay. I need a moment to collect my thoughts. It's not everyday a girl get's her breath stolen by a handsome ringmaster."

I laughed. "I imagine not."

The next morning, I found Ava examining a sequined gown, her focus giving her a soft glow in the dimly lit costume room. I approached quietly, a feather boa in hand, and as I reached her, I draped it gently around her neck. My fingers brushed her skin, lingering just a moment too long as I adjusted the fabric. Her sharp intake of breath was audible, and she turned to look at me, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something darker, more inviting. "It suits you," I said, my voice low, feeling the electric charge that moment sparked between us. "I had fun last night, thank you for joining me."

She nodded, eyes flickering anywhere but me before she slipped away, exiting the tent so quickly only the soft scent of her strawberry shampoo remained. I walked on slow strides to the animal enclosure, where the sun cast long shadows across the ground. Ava was trailing along with me as I talked about the specifics of feeding the giraffes, when we reached the pens we paused shoulder to shoulder. I liked standing so unusually close to her. As she reached out to offer a carrot, I placed my hands over hers, guiding them. My chest pressed lightly against her back, and I could feel the tension ripple through her. "Gentle," I whispered, my breath stirring the hair at the nape of her neck, my words as much about the moment as they were about feeding the towering animal before us.

Each of these encounters wove a complex tapestry of attraction and professionalism, blurring lines I had once observed with strict adherence. With Ava, it was different. The thrill of the circus, the danger of our growing closeness—it was a potent mix that threatened to overwhelm my usual control. As I stood behind her at the enclosure, feeling her lean back ever so slightly into me, I realized how much I wanted to push those boundaries further, to explore the undeniable chemistry that sizzled in the air between us. But even as I indulged in these moments, part of me remained acutely aware of the risks. Ava was here under professional pretenses, and her investigation into the circus's workings hung over us like a specter. Each step closer we took, I couldn't help but wonder if it was leading us toward something real and lasting, or if it was merely the setup for a fall neither of us could afford. As I watched her laugh, throwing her head back against the golden hour light that turned her hair into a halo, I knew, regardless of the danger, that I was too far gone to step back now.

Evening soon descended like a soft cloak over the circus, muting the daytime clamor into subdued whispers. I watched as inside her caravan, Ava paced, a seeming tempest of confusion and desire roiling within her. I watched from a discreet distance, unseen, my presence cloaked by the shadows. The soft light spilling from her windows painted her silhouette against the thin curtains—every movement betraying her turmoil. She paused, her hands hovering over an envelope—the one I knew contained evidence that could threaten the very fabric of my world. Then her gaze shifted to a photograph of us captured earlier by another performer, laughing, a rare moment of unguarded joy captured forever. The stark contrast between the document and our image seemed to slice through her, her body sagging into a chair as if the weight of something unspoken was too much to bear.

I left my hiding spot near Ava's caravan because I couldn't stay hidden any longer, not with the stakes so high. As the circus roared back to life for the evening performance a while later, I found Ava backstage, her face a mask of professionalism, but her eyes—those deep wells of emotion—gave her away. I reached out, my hand closing firmly around her arm, and drew her away from the prying eyes of the other performers.

"Ava," I began, my voice low, every word measured yet heavy with emotion. "I've heard whispers about your...investigations. We need to talk." My gaze held hers, searching for an anchor in the storm I saw brewing behind her eyes.

The space between us was charged with a potent mix of tension and desire. "Dante, I—" she started, but the words seemed to catch in her throat.

"Please, just tell me the truth," I implored, my hold on her arm loosening, turning into a plea rather than a restraint.

Under the bleachers, away from the thunderous applause for the night's show, I acted on impulse. I pulled her into the shadows and kissed her, a move born of frustration and a deep, undeniable yearning. The kiss was reckless, a mingling of challenge and plea, as if I could meld our conflicts and confusions into something sweet and less daunting. When I finally pulled away, her breathless expression mirrored my wild mix of emotions—this wasn't just about attraction anymore, it was about everything we stood to lose or gain. And so I left her standing like that, my emotions too big to carry at this moment.

As the circus settled into the quiet of midnight, Ava wandered alone outside in the shadows. I watched her from a distance, giving her the space I knew she needed but loathing every inch that separated us. I hated myself from walking away earlier, and I hated myself even more because I couldn't stay away either. I watched her walk along on soft steps before she paused by the lion's cage, her figure bathed in moonlight, her attention fixed on the wild animal pacing behind bars. I couldn't hear her thoughts, but the way she mirrored the lion's restless movements spoke volumes. I wondered if she was caught in a cage of her own making like I was, torn between duty and the raw, escalating desire that pulsed between us. I knew she felt it because I could feel it too. As the night deepened, I remained hidden in the darkness, my eyes never straying from her solitary form. The emotional distance, the professional barriers, the secrets—they all seemed trivial now against the backdrop of what I felt, of what I saw in her every hesitant step. Tomorrow, I promised myself, I would bridge that gap. I would confront not just the investigations or the suspicions but the burgeoning something that neither of us could deny any longer.

Tonight, though, I left her to the moon and the pacing lion, to her thoughts and turmoil. But tomorrow, I would be there, ready to face whatever came our way—together or apart. The circus, with all its enchantments and illusions, had never felt more like a battleground than it did under that vast, starlit sky.