House of Mirrors (10 page)

“Please.” Rafe gasped. “Please, please.”

Jonah licked him, mouthed him, then pulled off and pretended to consider the matter, though truthfully he felt Rafe’s pleading in his gut. His eagerness was utterly arousing. Jonah almost shot into his own trousers. The self-assured Rafe, with his elegant, confident manner, reduced to begging and thrusting his swollen cock in the empty air—that sight aroused Jonah as much as if he’d been stroking himself.

“Dammit. Please.” Rafe sounded desperate.

Jonah took pity on the man and himself. With shaking hands, he went back to his delicious job, allowing the long cock to penetrate his throat, letting his fingers explore the other man’s tight buttocks.

When Rafe’s paroxysms at last shook him, Jonah sucked and licked until the shuddering stopped.

The fingers that had gripped his hair almost painfully stroked him now, explored his face as if Rafe was a blind man. “Jesus, boy, where’d you learn that?”

Jonah rose from his knees. His painful erection didn’t flag, though Rafe’s question had brought him back from sheer pleasure. He had no interest in sharing how he’d gained his knowledge. “You enjoyed it,” he stated flatly.

Rafe’s laugh was a gusty sigh. “I’ve never felt the like.” He gave another sigh. “Thank you.” He moved close now and touched Jonah’s shoulders, his chest, and his arms, almost tentatively. And nearly tenderly.

“Thank you,” he said again. He tucked himself into his trousers and buttoned up. Jonah was sure he’d walk away. Instead he pulled Jonah into a hug. His amused voice was in Jonah’s ear. “Perhaps I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed that.” He ran his big palm down Jonah’s wool trousers and over his erection.

Jonah caught his lower lip in his teeth and closed his eyes. Rafe kissed him, then pulled back. “I taste myself in that kiss.”

“You’re delicious.”

“Am I, now?” The smooth, unruffled Rafe was back, but that man was as utterly exciting as the one who’d trembled and begged. Jonah angled his head for more kisses and worked his way along Rafe’s jaw, lightly scraping his teeth over the day’s beard, licking his jaw.

As he sampled the warmth and texture of the man’s skin, Rafe slid his hand along the length of Jonah’s erection. He managed to unfasten Jonah’s trousers and wrap his hand around his cock without fumbling. Then he too sank to his knees.

“My turn. I haven’t done this often, but rather think I’ll enjoy it.”

Jonah wanted that hot mouth on his penis. No, “want” was too mild a word. He needed that release. “If you don’t, then you must stop,” he muttered.
Please don’t stop.

Rafe didn’t answer. He’d already started his work. He licked and whispered, “This is right?”

“Yes,” Jonah said. The wet heat would kill him.

He sucked. “And you like this?”

“Yes.” Jonah flexed his hips.

Rafe gripped the base of Jonah’s cock and sucked its head into his mouth.

Jonah whimpered.

Rafe pulled off. “You’re all right?”

“Yes, yes.” Jonah teetered on desperation when he understood the other man was only teasing him. He growled and thrust forward. Taking another lesson from Burns, he commanded, “Stop talking and suck my cock.”

Rafe sucked in a breath, and Jonah wondered if he’d gone too far but then realized that the sound was arousal.

Rafe went to work eagerly then. No more gentle licks or conversation. He wrapped his hand around Jonah’s cock and sucked only the head, but that was so good. Too good. Jonah wanted to make it last, so he recalled his father’s disgust and the beating he’d received from his cousins—two things guaranteed to apply the brakes to his arousal. But the man at his feet, his head bobbing with his stroking hand, was far too exciting. Too soon, he felt the tingling, and his balls tightened.

“Now,” he warned. Rafe pulled his mouth away but kept his hand working up and down on the swollen shaft. Even in the near dark Jonah could see the jets of semen shoot from his cock. One hit Rafe’s chin. He slowed his hand. He released Jonah’s cock, and Jonah closed his eyes, breathing hard. Relief stormed through him, followed by the warm glow of contentment. But chasing on their heels was inevitable guilt. He did his best, though, shrugging away the whispers of sin and hellfire.

Something soft and cool touched him, and he opened his eyes again. Rafe had pulled out a handkerchief and was wiping his mouth and then the bottom of Jonah’s shirt. He slowly rose to his feet and offered him the cloth. “Now that was pleasurable, don’t you think?”

“Yes.” Jonah took the handkerchief and dabbed carelessly at his shirt. His knees were weak, and he felt hollow to his toes—a disturbing though pleasant sensation.

He started to hand back the cloth but then decided he didn’t want to give it back. “Thank you. That was…” Wonderful? Exciting? Fantastic? Any word he added would be too little. “Thank you,” he finished as he fastened himself up.

Neither man spoke or moved for a few moments, and Jonah took it as a good sign that Rafe didn’t turn immediately and walk away this time.

Jonah closed the distance between them and rested his forehead on the other man’s shoulder, then put his arms around his waist in a light embrace. He rejoiced as he felt Rafe’s hands on his back, his arms wrapping around Jonah in return.

This might be what he craved most of all, a simple hug that suggested an intimacy greater than lust. In reality, Rafe Grimstone was a complete cipher, and Jonah had barely scratched the surface of his mysteries, but in this moment, Jonah felt as if he actually knew the man on some elemental level. And on that level—rash, impulsive, and foolish though it might be—he felt a deep affection growing.

Chapter Ten

A strange new chapter of Jonah’s life began the night Rafe Grimstone dropped some of his barriers and pulled Jonah into his arms. In the weeks that followed, Jonah began to find his place in the traveling company. Newcomers like him were on probation until everyone saw whether they stuck or not. The carnival often picked up hired help that blew away in the night like fluff on the wind when they realized transporting a traveling show was a lot of hard labor. When even Alan Henderson, who’d been part of the show for several years, could take off and leave the others scrambling to fill his tiny shoes, why would they trust a stray like Jonah to stay? The comradeship of the road was not immediately welcoming to newcomers.

Comradeship of the road aside, there were cliques among these people as there’d been back in his schooldays. Jonah supposed it was the nature of man to carve out small groups within larger ones. Saul Parinksy, who everyone knew thought he could run the show better than Grimstone, was king of a court that included self-absorbed Miss Jamie acting as queen, Jack Treanor as jester, several of the acrobats, and Dimitri, that muscular moth who fluttered near Miss Jamie’s flame. He could’ve flexed his muscles until they cramped for all the notice the queen of the dog and pony show took of him.

At meal times, sitting at a plank table in the dining tent, Jonah stuck close to Sam, Claudia, the quarreling Fishers, and Mindy, whose duties ran the gamut from ticket collection to overseeing the animals’ care. Jonah was glad he’d been taken under Sam’s generous wing, since he didn’t think he’d fit in too well with the roustabouts who spent their off time playing cards, throwing dice, and drinking. Both Sam and big Claudia were relaxed, easy-going people who seemed to accept that their lot in life was to be put on display.

“There are worse ways to make a living, even if this is a mud show,” Claudia said. “A high-grass one at that.”

Jonah knew a mud show meant any not on the railroad circuit. They were performers who’d have to drive their wagons into fields. “High grass?” he asked.

He loved collecting the language of the carnival, and Rafe and Claudia were the ones who had the most patience with his constant questions.

“Yeah, you know, held in lots that no one bothered with. ‘Short grass’ means in places that are maintained. Get it?”

He nodded. “Would you go for a larger show if you could?”

“Naw. I reckon I’m not unique enough for them. I’m doing just fine. I come from a family of twelve. It’s amazing I’m as fat as I am, because there was never enough to eat. A couple of my sisters married young just to get a roof over their heads that wouldn’t leak. The rest work in the mill like our parents before us. Except Joanna. She earns her living on her back, if you get my drift. I count myself lucky to get paid almost as well for sittin’ on a chair.”

When Claudia laughed, it was almost impossible not to laugh with her. Jonah smiled despite the melancholy edge to her story.

Scowling Mindy was in her usual affable mood. “We should’ve headed east instead of south into Kentucky. There’s no money to be had in these backwoods. Even less now that the Orcully Brothers are dipping into our well, the bastards.”

Jonah flinched. He should be getting used to foul language, since everyone in the carnival used it, but it still surprised him to hear such words. He couldn’t help the flare of disapproval that flashed through him. A lifetime’s training about what was proper and what was sinful didn’t simply disappear because he no longer attended church or had his father there to pronounce judgment.

Sam stretched out his long legs, and they bumped against Jonah’s on the other side of the table. “We head east, and we get into the Albertinis’ territory. You know that. Those guys aren’t anybody to mess with. They once burned out an outfit that crossed them.”

Mindy snorted. “Rumors. Back when my dad owned this outfit, we worked from Mississippi to Maine and never had a bit of trouble. Sylvester’s Extravaganza was respected, the top of the heap.”

“And you sat on a diamond throne and smoked Cuban cigars,” Ellen Fisher interrupted. “We’ve heard the song and dance before, girl. If you were such great shakes, why’d your daddy go bankrupt and have to sell out?”

“He didn’t! He retired for his health and moved to Florida.”

“You keep telling yourself that, honey.” Ellen laughed.

“Play nice, children.” The voice from behind Jonah set the hair on his nape prickling and sent a shiver through him, as if Rafe had traced a fingertip down his spine. Merely the sound of that deep, resonant voice twisted his insides and made his cock stiffen—and that was before turning around to see Rafe’s handsome, devilish face.

Rafe rested a hand on both his and Claudia’s shoulder. There was no hint of sexuality in his touch, nothing to tip off anyone that there was any connection between him and Jonah. Nothing except Jonah’s flaming cheeks. He dipped his face and stared at his half-eaten plate of pork and beans.

“How long are we going to try to eke out a living playing the backwoods?” Mindy demanded. “This circuit is beneath us.”

“Maybe.” Rafe was unruffled. He’d accept blunt talk from Mindy, while the same words coming from Parinsky would have him jumping down the man’s throat. “But even Kentucky yokels need entertainment. Perhaps we should give them a little Shakespeare tonight, Jonah. What do you think?”

Jonah glanced at him. Half the time he didn’t know when Rafe was serious or when he was teasing. His family hadn’t gone in for ironic humor. Facts were facts, and lightness was frowned upon.

Rafe smiled, and Jonah’s throat tightened. Since that night they’d held each other in the grass by the horses’ picket line, they’d seized other opportunities to kiss or touch, but it was never enough. Jonah was always left wanting more.

“I’m from around here,” Sam reminded them. “I can tell you Kentucky hillfolk won’t be too interested in high-falutin’ talk.”

“Ah, but Shakespeare was written for the masses. We must choose the right scene to capture their attention. Horror or laughter, a good murder or a bit of slapstick, maybe some men dressed as girls from
As You Like It
.”

“Murder. Yeah, now that’s somethin’ people around here are interested in,” Sam interrupted. “Ghosts and hauntings. They’d pay to see a show about that. Add in a pretty woman like Mindy here, and you got a winner.”

“I don’t act,” Mindy sniffed, but Jonah thought she looked pleased by the compliment.

“What about Jonah?” Rafe squeezed his shoulder, setting Jonah’s heart thumping even harder. “People love to laugh at a man in a gown, and he’d make a pretty lass with a wig of blonde curls.”

“Cut it out, Grim. You’re making him blush,” Claudia spoke in Jonah’s defense. “What you should do is a skit about
The Tell-Tale Heart
or maybe
The Black Cat
. That’d have ’em on the edge of their seats.”

“
You’ve
read Poe?”

Jonah winced at Rafe’s condescending tone. Sometimes the man could be so arrogant, while at other times he was completely a man of the people. He had so many faces, Jonah was kept guessing which one he’d see at any given time.

“Yes, Mr. Smarty. I can read, and I been to school too.” Claudia put him in his place with a rare glare. “Got a used book of Mr. Poe’s stories from a peddler once. Spent all I’d set aside, but it was worth it.”

“It could be very dramatic.” Jonah was glad to support Claudia, since she’d stuck up for him.

“Indeed. I can see it now—a series of tableaux illustrating various macabre highlights from Poe’s works.” Rafe removed his hand at last, and Jonah relaxed his shoulder. The showman moved to the head of the makeshift table and gestured with his hands as he painted a picture for them. “Dramatic lights. Eerie music. A damsel in danger. Fake blood dripping from a knife clutched in a murderer’s hand. It would be very effective.”

“Neither the Orcullys nor the Albertinis have anything like it,” Mindy said. “And it would be cheap enough to put together. The freak tent’s too big for the few attractions we have left. Split the space and charge twice as much per head.”

Jonah glanced at Sam. He felt bad every time Sam or Claudia was referred to as a freak. Although Dimitri, the “Signortoris,” Miss Jamie, and Fatima, the exotic dancer, were all called attractions too, they offered performances that required some level of skill. But to be stared at simply for being different seemed so wrong and struck Jonah too near the heart.

Sam nodded in agreement with Mindy. “A show will bring more people inside.”