The Sextet - Entanglements [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 4] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (13 page)

Chapter 3

Since the “trick” to the new trick wasn’t a trick at all, but Marcus’s skill with knife throwing, the crew was able to construct the relatively simple bed set in less than a week. It had been built in Marcus’s private warehouse just outside of the city, where he stored all his props that weren’t being used in the current incarnation of Marcus’s show. The building looked like a run-down old shed on the verge of collapse, but once Marcus punched in the series of security codes, the huge door slid open, revealing that the building’s crusty facade was clearly another of Marcus’s ingenious illusions. The tiled floors were shiny white, the walls deep red, and everything else rimmed in chrome or glass. The outside was a dump, but the inside was a climate-controlled, state-of-the-art wonder.

Alongside the stage props from shows past, the warehouse contained a museum of antique tricks and old magic-show posters, signage and ticket boxes, as well as vintage costumes. There were gadgets that looked like torture devices, antique handcuffs and restraints, and even a few straightjackets. Some items were in glass cases, some were stacked neatly on shelves.

“Come on, it’s back here,” Marcus said, taking Hannah’s hand and leading her through the narrow walkway to the rear of the amazing building.

Marcus punched another series of codes into a control panel and pushed open the door to a large workroom. Overhead lights came on, illuminating large worktables filled with tricks in various states of completion and tools of every variety. And there, in the corner, was the bed. It was round, about ten feet in diameter, and covered in black satin sheets. Teal scarves poked through the fabric, and Hannah knew those were the bindings. Foot and hand pages were set just below that so that when the wheel spun, she would have something to hang on to.

“What do you think?”

A week of pent-up bondage fantasies imagining the moment Marcus tied her to his bed had killed a twenty-four pack of AA batteries and had Hannah’s favorite vibrator nearly worn to the nub. Just looking at the bed started that hot achy feeling deep in the pit of her stomach.

“It’s…nice.” She glanced over at Marcus and forced a smile. “Have you tested it?”

“Not yet. I need you to calibrate it.”

“Calibrate? I thought this was a straight knife trick.”

“Nothing is a straight trick, Hannah. You know that.” Marcus walked over to the wheel and pushed a button on the side. With barely a whisper, the bed raised to a vertical position. Hannah followed Marcus to the backside of the contraption where a system of mechanics she didn’t understand was bolted to the back.

“Most of the trick relies on my aim,” he said. “But this is a little extra insurance. This device will be calibrated to your height, weight and weight distribution.” He hit a red button, and the wheel began to spin. Hannah heard a series of clicks and a beep each time the wheel passed a certain spot.

“Once this is calibrated, I’ll know where your head is,” he said.

“And where not to throw the knife.”

“Exactly.”

“How will you be able to hear that onstage?”

He pulled out a small piece of black silicone. “It’ll transmit to the earpiece.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” Hannah said, touching his arm. He was brilliant, which only added to the sexy factor. “This is going to put you in the history books.”

“It’s still dangerous, Hannah. If I lose my concentration for even a moment, I could toss the knife on the wrong trajectory and hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“I could.”

“You won’t,” she said with absolute certainty. “Did you want to do the adjustments now?”

“Sure,” he said, walking over to the table where a white shirt box sat. He handed it to Hannah. “I had Sheila make the costume.”

“You need me to put it on now?” The box was light as if it contained nothing at all.

“The mechanism is very precise. I need to get your exact weight to set it correctly. I’ll recalibrate before every show, just in case.”

Hannah nodded, wondering what the final costume looked like.

“There’s a dressing room back there,” he said, gesturing to another closed door. “I’ll get the tools while you’re changing.”

He turned away to gather the tools he’d need, but Hannah thought she saw a hint of color in his cheeks and a naughty glint in his eye.

Hannah took the box and headed to the dressing area he’d indicated. She’d seen the drawing he’d made of the filmy, see-though number and was excited to see the final product. She set down her purse, kicked off her shoes, and opened the box.

Beneath a layer of tissue paper was the prettiest, sexiest costume she’d ever seen. It was teal, like the silky restraints on the bed, and had a soft, shimmery quality she knew would look amazing under the stage lighting. It had delicate spaghetti straps and a fitted, low-cut top that wasn’t much more than a lacy bra. The skirt was a filmy, empire-waisted affair that didn’t look like it would cover much more than her backside.

Even though it was Vegas, Hannah didn’t see how such a sexy costume was going to get by management at the Bombastic until she saw the nude-colored body stocking at the bottom of the box. It was lightweight, too, and would perfectly blend into her skin. Kind of like a skimpy leotard, form-fitting and sheer, with a Velcro enclosure at the crotch. Hannah shimmied into it then pulled the sexy nightie over the top. Looking into a mirror that was propped against a wall, Hannah admired the effect. Everything pertinent was covered, yet it looked like she was almost nude. And ready for action. Amazing. She checked her hair, gave the costume a final tug, though it didn’t need it since it was form-fitted to her exact measurements, and walked out of the dressing room.

Marcus had raised the wheel into a vertical position and was tinkering with something behind it. He came around to the front and glanced up, then did a double take when he saw Hannah.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard and then cleared his throat.

“It fits,” Hannah said, smiling. She twirled around so that the sheer gossamer skirt swirled around her.

“It sure does.” He laid the screwdriver on the worktable then came around to stand in front of her. “You look…wow.”

“Thanks.”

“Here are the shoes,” he said, handing Hannah a pair of black Mary Jane stiletto heels.

Hannah slid her feet in, and before she could bend down to do the buckles, Marcus was on his knees.

“Let me.”

He took her right calve in his large, warm hand and brought it to his bended knee while he fumbled with the little silver buckle. The brush of his fingertips on her bare flesh sent tendrils of warmth swirling up her leg. Marcus moved to the other foot and squeezed her foot just slightly before buckling the silver closure.

“There,” he said, standing. “Perfect.”

Marcus examined Hannah from the top of her head to the black patent leather of her heels and felt his attraction stronger than ever. It was like the veil between them had been lifted and he was seeing her for the first time as a desirable woman. Anticipation zipped through her blood so quickly that Hannah started to feel a little light-headed.

“Are we ready?” she asked, sauntering past Marcus toward the wheel. She added an extra shimmy to her walk, wanting Marcus to keep looking at her. To want her. To need her as much as she needed him.

“Yes,” he said, his voice taking on a husky quality that was ambrosia to Hannah’s ears.

Hannah stroked the satin fabric covering the wheel before she turned and stepped backward onto the pegs for her feet. Marcus’s hands went around her waist to steady her while she reached for the hand pegs. They were just the right distance apart, perfect for her height and arm span, of course. Marcus was nothing if not precise, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was that precise in
everything
he did.

“During the trick, we’ll have the bed flat while you mount it,” Marcus said, bending to secure the first tie at her ankle. The silky fabric whispered across her skin in a subtle caress, making Hannah want to sigh in pleasure.

“Okay,” she said, as casually as possible.

Marcus finished the other ankle tie then stood up. With Hannah elevated a foot or so on the wheel and him standing in front, they were eye to eye. “Okay? Not too tight?”

“Not at all,” Hannah said, breathless.

“Good.” As he reached up to tie one wrist restraint then the other, his chest brushed her breasts, sending tremors of pleasure rushing from Hannah’s sensitive nipples to the rest of her needy body. His scent was pure masculine, a hint of musk and clean, sharp soap. All she wanted to do was incline her head a few inches and bury her nose and teeth in his skin. She bit her lip to keep from groaning.

When he finished both ties, he stood back a little bit and just stared. “Wow,” he said, finally. “You’re even more beautiful like this than I imagined. Once we get the stage lights on you, people won’t even give a care about what I’m doing. They won’t be able to take their eyes off of you.”

“The men, maybe. But the women in the audience are mesmerized by you, Marcus.”

Marcus looked at Hannah, his eyes going dark. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, then closed it and cleared his throat.

“I guess I’d better get this adjusted,” he said, picking up the screwdriver. “I wouldn’t want your arms to go numb.”

He walked around behind the wheel, and she could hear him tinkering with the mechanism. After a few minutes, he came to the front again.

“Ready to give it a try?”

“Sure,” Hannah said, gripping the hand pegs. “Give ’er a whirl.”

Marcus released the brake with his foot and hit a button on the back. The wheel began to turn, slowly at first, then a little faster. The head rush and the sensation of her stomach flip-flopping was not at all unpleasant. She heard the clicks Marcus had been talking about each time her head reached twelve o’clock on the wheel.

After a few minutes, Marcus clicked off the wheel, and Hannah came to an eventual stop with her head directly at the top, right where she’d started. She was a little light-headed and out of breath.

“You okay?” Marcus asked. “I guess I should have asked if you were going to need some Dramamine for this one.

“I’m fine. That was like a free ride at Adventuredome.”

He smiled at her strangely for a moment. “You’re the bravest assistant I’ve ever had.”

“Or the stupidest.”

“No.” He brushed a tendril of hair away from Hannah’s face and tucked it behind her ear. The touch of his fingers along her jaw sent new shivers of pleasure rocketing through her. She felt her nipples harden instantly and knew they would be as clear as day through the thin material of her costume.

“The bravest. And the smartest.” Marcus moved closer so that they were eye to eye, and she could feel his words on her face. “And the sexiest.”

There was no trace of humor now, no teasing, flirting, or other lighthearted back-and-forth. Marcus’s eyes were dark and glittering, his voice husky. Hannah could see the pulse pounding in the vein on the side of his neck. He wanted her. Finally.

“Marcus,” she breathed with all the longing of three long years.

He moved in slowly as if giving her time to stop him, to say something to break the spell that was pulling them together with an undeniable, magnetic force.

Hannah’s eyes fluttered closed as his lips finally touched hers. The kiss was tentative at first. Soft, seeking, testing the sensation. Awareness leapt between them, and tiny pinpricks of pleasure traveled from his lips along the network of nerves straight to her pulsing center.

Marcus’s hands cupped Hannah’s face as he turned his head slightly and went deeper. Her lips parted for him, her senses exploding as he explored her mouth with his tongue, hitting all the most sensitive spots.

She had dreamed this moment for so long, fantasized what it would be like to be kissed by Marcus. Now she knew. And it was even better than the fantasy. He knew his way around a woman’s mouth, and Hannah never wanted it to end. She arched against him, as much as the bindings would allow, needing more. More contact, more kissing, more Marcus.

Breaking the kiss, Marcus pulled back a few inches to look into Hannah’s eyes. He was breathing heavily. “Hannah,” he said at last. “I…we can’t…”

“Why not?”

“A million reasons. I just can’t think of any right now.”