“Do we get to learn your name?” the redhead asks.
“I’m Steel,” I say, not taking my eyes off Emily.
“Steel? Why are you called that?” she asks.
“Lots of reasons,” I say.
The brunette rolls her eyes, “I thought you were going to say something lame, like it’s because you’re a strong as steel.”
“That’s one of them,” I say, lifting my shirt to show them my ripped abs.
Three sets of eyeballs pop out of their heads as they stare at my six pack. I lift my shirt a little higher, to give them an eyeful of my tattoo-covered pecs too. Best perk of this job is it gives you a body like mine. Gets a reaction like theirs every time. Even the brunette is silenced.
“You can touch, Goldie,” I say.
To my surprise, she reaches out her hand. Not what I expected from the good girl, but I sure like it. Emily hovers it over my abs, and I assume she’s going to chicken out.
But after thinking about it, she presses her hand against my belly. Her hand is soft and delicate while she runs it over my washboard stomach. My dick twitches in my pants, and I wish to fuck her two friends weren’t here. Unless, of course, they wanted to join in.
I glance over at them. Nah, not a chance. Emily’s the only one I want in my bunkhouse cabin tonight.
“What are the other reasons they call you Steel?” Emily asks, her voice breathy and her eyes still fixed on my stomach.
“That’s something I have to show you in private,” I say, smirking.
Our ride is over. Whiskey wisely unloaded our car last, but I still have to move my ass before Papa Smurf catches me.
Before our car even stops, I hop out of the car and stand beside it, as if I’ve been standing here helping people get on and off the ride all day.
I offer my hand for Emily to take, and she takes it. I support her as she climbs off, and Whiskey does the same for her friends.
“Enjoy the rest of the carnival,” I say. This is when I play it cool. I want her gagging for me by the time I find her later.
The three of them walk off without saying goodbye, but Emily can’t resist a quick glance at me over her shoulder. I pretend I didn’t notice, and help Whiskey load the next group of people onto the ride.
I work for another hour, helping Whiskey and moving around the other rides to make sure everything’s running like it should. I’m the ride foreman, and am responsible for all the rides. If we don’t pull in the money, Papa Smurf busts my ass, plain and simple.
But the whole time I’m moving between rides, I’m looking out for Emily. I can’t get the memory of her hand on my abs out of my mind.
Already I’m thinking about what I’m going to do to her after the eleven o’clock closing. I have to find her before then to tell her to come find me at closing. I’m going to take her to our nightly party before I take her to my bunk.
I’m checking up on Zombie at the bumper cars when Emily and her friends get on, each in their own cars. Fucking perfect.
A bunch of other people get in cars, and Zombie starts the ride. Emily is behind the redhead and her car lurches forward and smacks into the back of her. The redhead flies forward, her head jerking in an unnatural way.
Emily’s car zips near the edge of the course. I hop onto the bumpers on her car and grab onto the metal rod connecting the car to the ceiling. She looks up at me and smiles. I’m not exaggerating when I say it’s the prettiest smile anyone’s ever given me.
The way her eyes crease when she smiles is especially perfect. Like it’s a hint of the way they scrunch up when she comes.
The brunette zooms near us. I use my foot to turn Emily’s wheel and drive us straight into the side of the brunette’s car. She jolts with the impact, and both Emily and I laugh.
“Having fun yet?” I ask, shouting over the noise of the bumper cars.
“Yes,” she laughs.
That’s the third best thing about being a carny — making people smile. Especially when their smiles are as pretty as Emily’s. The second best thing about being a carny is every night’s a party.
Like I said before, the number one thing about being a carny is it gives you a body like mine, with muscles no woman can resist. Which means I can fuck who I want wherever I go. And tonight that’s going to be Emily.
Zombie shuts the ride off, and all the cars come to a standstill.
“Stick around for another turn,” I say, glancing over to the long line of people waiting their turns.
“I can’t, I’ve got to stick with my friends,” she says, standing.
“Suit yourself.” I step down off the bumper edge and step aside so she can get past me.
“Thanks,” she says.