Cirque Du Minuit (Cirque Masters 1)

Through all of this, Kelsey couldn’t shake an air of unreality. Was it really only yesterday he’d pushed her down and fucked her? No, Kelsey had to be real about it. He’d forced her. He’d held her down and fucked her ass and she’d been so shocked while it was happening that she hadn’t stopped him. No, be real, Kelsey. She’d been so thrilled and turned on while it was happening that even now, she wanted him. Wanted him to do it again. Was it just hero worship, still? Or was she a total sicko?

After lunch, Theo took a smoke break, and then they returned to the practice space to start on the flying. Theo let her swing around like Tarzan for a while, which was super fun. It was like being on the playground, running and taking off. The fabric undulated beneath her, sweeping the floor, fluttering past Theo. He was spotting her in case she fell, although he’d never admit it. The higher she climbed and swung, the closer he watched her. He finally got impatient and grabbed the tail of her silk.

“Enough play,” he barked. “Slide down.”

“If you ask me nicely.” She wrapped an ankle, and a wrist for good measure, because she knew he’d have no qualms about shaking her down.

“Theo!” The loud voice arrested them both. Michel Lemaitre walked across the mats, his arm extended to Theo. They shook hands and exchanged a few quick words in French. Then they both looked up at her, Lemaitre’s face assessing, Theo’s hard. She unwrapped her hand and ankle and slid down, trying to look as smooth and assured as Theo. Unfortunately, her hand slipped at the last second and she fell on her ass at the feet of the Cirque du Monde CEO. As a finishing touch, the crimson tail settled down over her, obscuring her face. She was obliged to fight her way out of it and stand up, her cheeks flaming.

“Mademoiselle Martin. What a joy to see you again.”

“She is the picture of grace, no?” Theo sighed. Kelsey scowled at him.

“I was just playing around,” she explained.

“Ah yes, getting the feel of the apparatus,” said Lemaitre. “This is always the first step. To be fearless and creative, you must experiment. And yes, sometimes fall.” Lemaitre clapped Theo on the shoulder. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen this one take a tumble or two.”

Kelsey looked at Theo, expecting some denial or some other quip throwing her under the bus, but he only stared at her and then the floor. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was uncomfortable. Jason had told her far more about Mr. Lemaitre than she ever cared to know, and she couldn’t help thinking of it now. About his pets. About his clubs and all the activities that supposedly went on there. In the silence she realized both men were looking at her.

“Well,” Lemaitre said. “I’ll leave you to your work. I’ll only be in town a few days, but I hope to see more of you, Miss Martin. And you.” He gave a significant look at Theo. Theo nodded, his mask of bored nonchalance back in place. Lemaitre left, going to talk to some of the other artists. Kelsey fingered the edge of the silk, sliding a look at Theo.

“What was that all about?”

Theo shrugged. “He comes to Marseille often. He has a big house on the coast.” He busied himself with the rosin bag, then threw it to her. “He’s taken an interest in you. He’ll be ruthless toward you if you don’t live up to his expectations.”

“I hear he makes his favorites into pets.”

Theo was silent a moment, considering her. “You have to play along, Kelsey. But he won’t make you his pet.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I won’t let him.” That was all he said, but his eyes said more. They were dark and, for one thrilling moment, emotional. Then a muscle in his jaw ticked and he was in motion again, handing her a silk, taking his own. “Come, girl,” he said. “Let’s fly.”

The flying was a lot more complicated than the wraps and drops. Theo explained how the momentum of their bodies had to be matched and timed perfectly to avoid looking sloppy. Worse, missed timing could result in a mid-air collision. They would have to practice again and again until their speed and arcs matched every time, or their tricks wouldn’t work.

Kelsey found it difficult to sense the timing as well as Theo. He’d worked for years as a trapezist, after all, collaborating with a partner, but tumbling and gymnastics was a solo sport. They worked for an hour, and Kelsey felt she was doing worse, not better. Theo made her repeat movements again and again until she was dizzy, and still she was missing the mark.

“I don’t get it,” she said. “I don’t understand how you do it. I can’t!”

“You’re thinking too hard. Let your body guide you. Use your sense of timing.”

“That’s just it, I don’t have a sense of timing. In gymnastics the only timing involved is the time it takes to execute a movement perfectly.”

“Fine. But you’re not doing gymnastics now. There’s a difference between being an artist and an athlete. All those years, you just did what your coach said. Now you need to feel for yourself. You’re doing aerial silk, and timing is crucial in this routine.” He gave her his patented derisive look. “If you would just try, and stop being so doubting and controlling. Just let me lead.”

“I’m letting you lead! But I’m not getting anywhere and you’re not helping me!” She was so frustrated, so tired of being the one who had to learn everything. She spread her arms. “Just help me, please. You keep telling me the same old platitudes.”

“And you keep giving me the same old helpless act. I can’t. I don’t understand. There’s nothing to understand. You know it here.” He pounded on his heart. “And you are too much here”--he pointed to his head--“and here”--he pointed to his mouth. He made a beaky hand and mocked her. “Blah blah blah, instead of trying.”

Kelsey rubbed her forehead. “You’re a jerk and an asshole.”

“And you are a shriek-mouthed little witch.”

“Shriek-mouthed?” Kelsey protested. “What the hell kind of word is that? Who ever heard of ‘shriek-mouthed?’”

“I heard of it, girl. I hear it every time you open your lips.” He held onto his silk with one hand, kneading her shoulders with the other. He spoke to her in a kind voice, as if he hadn’t just insulted her repeatedly. “Let go, Kels. Stop trying to manage everything. I lead, you follow. Like in the bedroom, yes? In the bedroom you are like...what is that phrase?” He looked up, searching, moving his hands.

“What?”

“Squeezy, squishy. I mold you. You’re like--” He made aggressive squeezing motions with his fingers.

“Like putty in your hands?”

“Yes. Putty. This is what you are in the bedroom. But now you fight me. You don’t trust me to teach you. You struggle to control everything. Why?”

Because you scare me. Because I want you. Because I don’t want to disappoint you.

Kelsey took a deep breath and made fists at her sides, then let the air out again. “Okay, give me a second.” She took a few more deep, rhythmic breaths to center herself, a strategy she’d used before she took the floor at gymnastics events. Before balance beam, especially, her most hated event. She’d had to learn to give up control then, to trust her body to guide itself. If she thought about the impossibility of doing tumbling and stunts on that narrow piece of wood, her mind gave up before she even started. If she let her body lead, and quieted her mind, she could do it easily.

She could do this too.

“Okay, let’s try again.” She beckoned to Theo. “I’m ready to try again.”

The first time, the timing was still a struggle. The second time, she became more aware of the small ways she could move her body to affect her speed and arc. She met Theo a little closer to the mark. And closer.

“Good girl,” he finally said, when she met him right on cue. He held out his hand and she grasped it. His smile was a rare reward. “You understand now.”

She nodded, feeling ridiculously pleased. She had issues with approval, with doing things “right.” She knew that. She still enjoyed the feeling of success, the feeling of making her partner

happy.

“Okay, now,” he said. “Let’s fly higher.” She started to climb and he climbed after her. He levered his body to get them swinging. They were maybe twenty-five feet off the ground, swinging and swirling. Kelsey laughed at the sheer joy of it. It was like being out in the woods again, swinging in the clearing from Theo’s practice silks. He really was a good teacher. His methods might be unorthodox...and a little cruel...but she was learning, and it was fun.

“Now,” he said, “I’ll take your hand and I’ll swing you. And then you swing back and catch the silk, yes? We’ll practice.”

Kelsey nodded shakily, bracing herself. She had to trust him. If she didn’t trust him, all of this was pointless. They swung in an arc and met in the middle, and Theo reached to grasp her hand. “Now swing!”

Kelsey let go of the silk, feeling alarmingly heavy. What if he dropped her? They were twenty feet up. But the momentum of her body and the silks had her flying out in a graceful arabesque. Theo’s grip never wavered. His hands were like iron. “Now back,” he said, with no hint of effort in his voice. Emboldened, Kelsey reached for the silk and grabbed it, doing a quick ankle wrap to secure herself. Theo swung away from her, wrapping his own ankles so he could clap. “Beautiful,” he said. “You looked beautiful flying. Again?”

Kelsey nodded, even more confident this time. Twice more, she clung to his hand and let go of the silk. The second time, he twisted and twirled and she spun around beneath him. “Oh, I’m getting dizzy,” she laughed. She reached to the side for the silk but it wafted out of reach. Theo swung wider, still spinning her, chuckling too. He began to descend down the silk in a controlled slide. When she got close enough to the ground she opened her hand and dropped down, still laughing, landing in a crouch on the mat.

But then Theo was in her face, his eyes searing her with anger. “You never let go,” he yelled. “You never let go.”

It happened so fast. She was laughing one moment and holding her stinging cheek the next. My God, he’d fucking popped her. She looked around, tears burning in her eyes from the shock, but no one was paying attention to them. She looked back at Theo. He was blinking, white-faced. “You wait for me to let go, always,” he said in a brusque voice. “That’s how it works.”

“You hit me.”

“Because you let go. Stupid girl.”

“I didn’t know.” Kelsey’s voice wobbled. He’d slapped her on the face. She waited for the apology, but he was gone, stalking away from her, his shoulders stiff and his hands open at his sides.

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