Still, I was in a contemplative mood, Julie’s spiteful claims continuing to echo in my head. If she wasn’t leaving the circus, then that meant she was staying, and that also meant I’d have to be around her for the rest of the summer. Despite Jack stating firmly that she wouldn’t lay a hand on me again, I didn’t know how he could be so sure. And quite frankly, I was scared. Julie was definitely not the full shilling, and I had no idea what she might try to do next.

Jack kissed me long and passionately right before I was leaving to go get some clean clothes. The ones I was wearing were dry, but they smelled damp from the rain. His kiss put me in a little bit of a daze as I left his camper. I was strolling along, unable to keep a stupid grin off my face, my worries about Julie momentarily forgotten, when I saw King walking ahead of me. He was doing his usual half-drunken stumble, muttering to himself, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of liquor. As he did so, a piece of paper fell to the ground, and I hurried to pick it up for him.

It was a photograph, and had fallen blank side up. I held it in my hands and turned it over to find a picture of a woman at the beach. She was smiling widely, her teeth white and straight, and she wore a red bathing suit that showed off some enviable curves. Her hair was dark brown, her skin a pale olive, and her eyes were almost as dark as Jack’s. She looked like maybe she had some Greek or Italian blood in her, and she was certainly very beautiful.

I turned the photo over again to see someone had written on the back in pen, but it was nearly faded to nothing. It read: Alexis, Rome, 2009.

When I looked back up, King had gotten a good distance ahead of me. I was about to run after him to return the photo when Lola suddenly appeared, her face a mixture of excitement and concern.

“Is it true? About Julie?” she asked, a little breathless.

I nodded, shoving the picture in my pocket to return to King later as I filled Lola in on everything that had happened.

“That little psycho. I swear, I always knew she was a bitch, but I didn’t know she was a crazy bitch,” Lola exclaimed as we reached the camper. We both stepped inside and found the bathroom door open as Violet stood by the mirror in her underwear, dyeing her hair. Her roots had been growing out a little, and she was topping them up with more purple. We stared at her for a moment. She gestured with her gloved hand, irritated. “What? I don’t want to get dye on my clothes.”

Lola gave her a pointed look. “I think that’s what coveralls are for.”

“Oh, whatever. Nobody has time to buy coveralls.”

“I think you’ll find they do. Shall I compile a list? Plumbers, painters, welders, matchstick makers….”

“Seriously, Lola, shut up and tell me the news. You came in with a gossipy gleam in your eye.”

Nude hair dyeing forgotten, Lola immediately began to regale her with the Julie gossip as I went to change into some fresh clothes. I also packed a small bag to bring with me to Jack’s. I wasn’t being presumptuous. He’d asked me to do it before I left. I’d barely been away from him an hour, but already I was itching to see him again. After I’d taken care of a few tasks, I made my way to the Spiegeltent, where he told me he’d be rehearsing.

The place was empty when I walked in, save for Jack standing on the stage. He brought a bottle to his mouth and drank, then spat it back out in a spray. It hit the lit torch he was holding, and the flame blew massively. My skin prickled with awareness. There was something so primal about him when he breathed fire. It was his element, the balm that soothed his damaged soul, and the way he worked with it was captivating.

He saw me come in and sit by the edge of the stage, giving me a heated smile that made my tummy flutter. Now that I knew about his bedroom preferences, even seeing fire reminded me of sex. And sex with Jack was something that branded itself into your memory like hot steel permanently marking your skin. His eyes wandered over my body. I was wearing a dress today, a light summery one that showed off my arms and stopped above the knee. Unlike yesterday, the weather was hot and dry, so I thought I could get away with showing a little more skin.

His lips formed a smirk as he called over, “Like your dress, flower.”

I blushed but didn’t respond to the compliment. Instead, I asked, “What’s in the bottle?”

He took a few steps towards me. “It’s kerosene. I never use gasoline or alcohols. They’re too dangerous.”

I scrunched up my nose. “Does it taste okay?”

“Not at all, but I’m not exactly savouring it when it’s in my mouth, Lille.” He laughed low and gave me pointed stare. “In fact, I practice having it there for the shortest time possible to minimise the chances of ingesting. You can do a lot of damage. It’s a risk.”

“Is the risk a part of the thrill?” I asked quietly.

His boots sounded against the floor of the stage as he took the last few steps to reach me. Then he went down on one knee, eyes flickering over my face as he took my chin in his hand. “Perceptive little thing, aren’t you?” he whispered.

I stared at his mouth, the air thickening between us. “When it comes to you, yes. I think breathing fire makes you feel alive, and I think you take the risk because it’s your choice and no one else’s. You’re the master of your fate, and whether or not you get hurt is all down to whether or not you fuck up.”

His smile grew slowly. “I like the way you see me.”

I smiled back. “I like seeing you.”

The moment was broken when a noise sounded at the entrance and a couple of circus workers came in carrying equipment. Jack eyed them, then rose and went to gather his things. “Looks like Julie and her sisters are going to be rehearsing soon. We’d better leave.” I got a little jolt to be reminded of her and stood, following him to the back of the tent. When we were in the backstage area, he kept sneaking glances at me as he slotted his torches into a duffle bag.

“What?” I said, self-conscious.

“Nothing.”

I elbowed him. “Don’t lie. You were thinking something, and I want to know what it is.”

His smile was provocative. “I was thinking that you’re in a very good mood after last night, and I was also wondering if I asked you to do something, would you say yes or no.”

I absorbed his reply for a moment, then said, “Ask me to do what?”

A second later, he was crowding me into the wall and murmuring in my ear, “To get down on your knees and take me in your mouth.”

I blinked nervously and stared up at him. It surprised me how much his request turned me on. “Well” —I swallowed— “that all depends.”

His eyebrow rose. “On?”

“On whether or not you mean here or back at your camper,” I answered in the most seductive voice I could manage, which probably sounded like I was getting a chest infection.

With his thumb brushing along my throat, he replied, “And what if I said here?”

God, why did he have to sound so sexy when he spoke? It wasn’t fair. “Then I’d say you’re pushing your luck.”

“I like pushing my luck with you.” His voice was pure gravel, and his body was pressing heavily into mine now, his arousal firm at my belly. I was fascinated by how quickly he could get it up. Okay, fascinated, and also flattered that I was the catalyst for his speedy readiness.

“There are people around,” I protested.

His hand stroked my hair away from my neck as he bent to place an open-mouthed kiss below my ear. “No, there aren’t. Nobody ever comes up this end. Not at this time of day.”

My eyes flickered between his uncertainly, and I was embarrassed to admit even to myself that I wanted to do it. I wanted to taste him. I wanted the power of knowing I could give him that kind of pleasure.

“You don’t have anything to burn me with here,” I said, voice weak with the need to taste him.