Bound in Blue (20 page)

Costumes, the Exhibition, an ever-rising
trapeze. It all meant one thing, that she’d be leaving Paris—and
Jason—very soon. Theo said Jason would follow her, but what if he
didn’t? He took his duties at Cirque very seriously. Even if he did
come, what if he missed Paris and wanted to come back?

The more unsettled she felt, the more manic
and gleeful Baat became. He couldn’t wait to leave Paris. He’d
already invited his friends from Mongolia to visit him in Vegas
when their act was added to
Brillante
. Never mind that it
wasn’t a sure thing, never mind that they still had to impress the
bigwigs with their performance in the Exhibition. Baat was as cocky
and self-assured as ever. He believed he had a free ticket to Las
Vegas and nothing would stop him from making plans.

The Thursday before the Exhibition he met her
outside the locker rooms, happy, smiling despite the fact she’d
lost her temper with him several times during practice.

“Hey, guess what?”

Sara looked at him sideways. “What?”

“Chuluun sent me two bottles of
har
to
congratulate us on
Cirque Brillante
. You can have some if
you like.”

Har
made her think of Jason and the
BDSM Fun Club, and all the things that were wrong with Ulaanbaatar.
“No thanks,” she answered curtly. “First of all, we don’t have the
job yet, and second, I prefer to keep all my brain cells.”

“Fine, more for me. I’m tired of this stuff
the French call alcohol. I have to drink so much more here to get
drunk.”

Oh Baat, how can I fix you?
She hid
her grief in irritation, turning away with a frown. “Why do you
need to get drunk? Why can’t you just drink enough to enjoy the
buzz, like a normal person?”

“Because I’m in Paris and I don’t want to be.
And because my partner nags me and annoys me.”

“Your partner cares about you. Your partner
wants you to be able to perform for ten, fifteen more years. Your
partner thinks you have serious problems.”

He snorted, waving her concerns away. “Hey,
you want to come over for dinner after the Exhibition? No drinking,
I promise. Not until later, anyway.”

“You think Chuluun would want you to share
the
har
with me?”

“Why not?”

“I thought everyone hated me for ruining the
circus. I thought all the children starved.”

He made a face at her. “What are you talking
about?”

“You told me the circus was going out of
business. You made me feel horrible.” At his blank look, she blew
out a breath. “Look, I’ll probably go out with Jason afterward, and
Theo and Kelsey. They have to go back to Marseille in a few
days.”

Baat’s erratic temper surged. “You’ve turned
into such a bitch. Such a haughty, nasty bitch. You’re too good to
hang out with your old friend Baat, yes? I get it. Fine, celebrate
our
act with your
Amerik
and his asshole
friends.”

She looked around, glad no one else
understood Mongolian. “They’re not assholes,” Sara said, signaling
for him to lower his voice. “And Theo’s your coach.”

“Do I fucking care? He won’t be my coach much
longer. When we get to Vegas, you and I will be able to breathe
again. We can train without Theo and Lemaitre hovering over us, and
we can finally correct all the shit they did to ruin our act.”

“Everything they did improved our act.”

“You would think so. Are you in love with
them too? Why don’t you take all three of them to your bed? You
seem to have developed a taste for Western cock.”

She tried not to react, tried to not give him
the satisfaction as they left the Cirque lobby and stepped into the
blinding sunlight outside. He couldn’t know that she and Jason
occasionally played around with the Zamoras. Could he? It was their
secret. She didn’t think Baat even knew about the Citadel. He was
too isolated from everyone else, due to language and cultural
barriers.
Yes, because of you. Because you ran away and dragged
him here.

“Maybe we can share one drink,” she said,
softening. “Right after the Exhibition, before I head out with
Jason. They’ll probably have things to discuss with Mr. Lemaitre
anyway.”

“Eh. If you don’t want to hang out with me,
then don’t.”

Baat turned away in a huff, heading for his
dorm, shoulders hunched against the draining summer heat. He looked
so lonely. He probably was lonely, which was why he drank. She knew
all of this, but she didn’t know how to fix it without losing all
the things she’d worked for.

You’re selfish
, a voice inside her
whispered. It was a terrible thing in her culture, to be selfish
and self-serving.
All you care about is yourself. What you want.
What you need.
No wonder Baat acted so hateful toward her.

But things would get better. They had to. If
it took
Cirque Brillante
in Las Vegas to get Baat back on
his feet again, Sara would gladly go. Once they were there, she’d
make him seek help, get him healthy again. She hoped against hope
that all of this would be worth it in the end.

* * * * *

The night before the Exhibition, Jason took
her out for a celebratory dinner at a posh restaurant near the
Eiffel Tower. Sara dressed up in a black brocade dress, with a
garter belt and back-seamed stockings, and black stiletto shoes
Jason loved. “No power exchange tonight,” he said when he picked
her up. “I just want to take you out and be proud of you. Have a
special dinner with the girl I love.”

No power exchange? It was impossible for them
to be together without power exchange. Even his request for no
power exchange was a power exchange, because she had to submit to
it against her will. But she did, because he wanted it. She made
polite, appropriate conversation, laughed and made jokes, and
stared at him from under her lashes. He looked so beautiful in his
stylish suit and tie. She didn’t want to lose him, but she didn’t
know if she could hold onto him when their lives started to change.
His fingers… Oh, his fingers as he traced the stem of his glass.
The restaurant was all crystal and white, so elegant. She couldn’t
shake the feeling that she didn’t belong here, that she wasn’t good
enough for this sparkling elegance.

That she wasn’t good enough for him.

Near the end of the meal, he leaned close and
caught her gaze. “What’s the matter, Sara? Are you worried about
tomorrow? You shouldn’t be. Theo tells me your act is super tight.
I’ve seen you do the whole thing in practice. It’s amazing.”

She tugged at the napkin in her lap. “I’m not
worried about tomorrow. It’s more the uncertainty that comes after,
going to a new place and a new show. I wish we could stay here
together in Paris.” At his frown, she added quickly, “I know why I
can’t.”

He put down his fork in a very controlled
movement and took a sip of wine. “I hoped we could speak about
that. About what’s next for us.”

He had that look, that exacting look he got
when he’d made a decision and was about to tell her what was what.
She clasped her hands in her lap and swallowed past the paralysis
in her throat. He looked so serious and resolute that Sara wondered
if his next words might be “
we’re through.
” Maybe that was
why he’d asked her here, why he’d told her no power exchange.

Calm down, Sara. He’s not breaking up with
you.
They belonged together, even if it was long distance, even
if things were difficult for a while. Jason reached for her hand
and rubbed his thumb across the back.

“As you know, I’ve been reluctant to make any
plans for our future,” he began. “Or more specifically, to tie you
down with any hard and fast plans. We’ve only had three months,
Sara. It’s not enough time to ask you to make big decisions, or for
me to make big decisions.”

“But it’s been a good three months,” she
pointed out. “I feel closer to you than I’ve ever felt to anyone in
my life.”

“I do too, baby. And this is circus life.
It’s about dealing with change, evolving, adapting. You’re just
beginning your journey and a lot’s going to happen in the years to
come. It’s all good, it’s all normal. And in my heart, I’ve made a
decision.”

“What decision?” she asked, her heart
thudding double speed.

“That I want to be with you, wherever you go.
I want to come with you and support you however I can.”

She let out a breath, clutching her chest.
“Oh, Jason. I thought...I thought you might break up with me.”

He smiled at her, reaching in his pocket. “If
I was going to break up with you, I wouldn’t have brought
this.”

He took out a little box and slid it open.
The first thing Sara saw was the stone, a striking pale blue jewel
nestled in black velvet. It was set into a ring, elegant in its
simplicity, just an aquamarine oval supported by four gold tines.
Sara was so taken by its beauty she forgot to breathe, and ended up
sucking in a big gust of air.

“Ohhh.” That was all she could say for a
moment.

“The blue’s for your eyes. I hope that’s
okay. I know you don’t like your eye color, but I think they’re
ungodly beautiful, and I can’t look at this color anymore without
thinking of you.” He paused, turning the ring over in his hand. “I
adore you, Sara, and I don’t want to let you go. If that’s okay
with you.”

“If it’s...if it’s okay with me?”

“I don’t want to put pressure on you, because
you have a lot of other pressures right now. This isn’t an
engagement ring. This is a promise, something to bind us together.
A symbol to remind us we’re working toward something. Marriage,
hopefully, but you’re young and your life is changing. I think it’s
too soon for you to decide.”

“But I know—”

He held up a finger, silencing her. “I know
you think you know. But look, I’m a stickler. You know that about
me. When you commit to me, that’s going to be it. So let’s take a
few more weeks. Even a few more months, because we have all the
time in the world. I want you to be sure.”

She gazed down at the glittering ring between
his fingers. Her tears made the blue jewel sparkle, transformed the
hues into something complex and even more brilliant. She blinked
the tears away and looked back at him. “I didn’t have a life before
you. So even if it twists and turns, I want you to be part of
it.”

His expression was so gentle, so kind. He
took her left hand and slid the ring onto her finger. “There. Every
time you look at your hand now, you’ll see that I’m part of it.
Well, except when you’re doing trapeze. I hear rings are a no-no
when you’re grabbing someone’s fingers fifty feet up.”

Sara laughed and moaned a little, and gawked
at Jason’s ring. She’d been so worried about their future, but this
was actual, material proof that Jason wasn’t planning to drift
away.

“What about your job?” she asked, touching
the stone.

“Don’t you get in trouble every time you
worry about my job?” He squeezed her hand. “Lemaitre and I will
work something out. There’s bound to be some opening wherever you
go. Or I could travel, do more scouting. As long as it’s not
Mongolia,” he teased.

“Oh, Jason.” She whispered his name,
imprinting this moment in her memory. “You’re so wonderful. Thank
you.” She had a million more things to say but words wouldn’t come,
only a swirl of emotions. Impulsively she stood and threw herself
on her knees beside his chair, staring up into the beloved lines of
her Master’s face.

“Sara, honey.” He looked around, drawing her
up again. “This is a classy restaurant. I love you, but you can’t
do that here.” He settled her on his lap for a quick, tender kiss
and then nudged her back over to her seat. “Later,” he promised.
“When I get you home.”

After that, though, neither one of them could
concentrate on the atmosphere or the food. Jason paid the bill and
Sara floated out of the restaurant on his arm. She wanted to flash
the ring at everyone they passed on the way to the door.
Look,
look! Look what my Master gave me.

When they got to his house, they didn’t go
upstairs right away. He kissed her inside the door, then in the
living room, then in the kitchen, and in the hallway against the
wall. Each time he kissed her, he took off another item of her
clothing—her shoes, her dress, her slip, her tights, her bra and
panties. Everything but her ring. Every kiss seemed to bind them
closer together. Every kiss said,
this is for life.

When she pressed against him, aching for his
possession, he lifted her in his arms and carried her upstairs to
his bedroom. There was no slave pose this time, no slowly building
scene. They were on some other plane tonight, where he tossed her
on the bed and ripped off his clothes and came at her. She melted
as he pinned her hands over her head. He spread her legs with his
knees and paused with his cock at the entrance to her pussy.

“Sometimes I don’t want to hurt you,” he
sighed. “I just want to be as deep inside you as I can be.”

“Oh, Master, yes.” She tried not to cry out
as he pushed inside, but it felt
so good
, the way he
stretched her pussy.
The air ducts, remember? Don’t be noisy.
Don’t scream for more, more, more…

“More,” she cried. “I want this forever. I
want you inside me forever.”

He let go of her hands and muffled her
babbling with another kiss.
Yes, please, yes.
She wrapped
her legs around him and clung to him, tangling her fingers in the
softness of his hair. Body to body, he took her with a violent,
demanding passion that left her breathless. She squeaked when he
bit her on the lip and then begged him to do it again. His cock
filled her, harder, deeper, lifting her with each thrust.

He’s turning me inside out.
They were
back to exchanging power, back in their comfort zone, and now there
was even more joining them together. A commitment, a promise. Was
this really happening to her? It seemed her life was a constant
swing of the trapeze, from depressing problems to the joy of
Jason’s love. He’d given her a
ring
. They were bound
together as he said, perhaps even bound for marriage one day. In
all the big world, from Mongolia to California to Paris, they’d
found each other, found a perfect match of personality and desire.
And love, always love.