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Weightless in the air, light as a feather. The only thing that matters is the way the silk caresses my body and—here’s the real kicker—making sure that I don’t let go.
I still can’t believe I’m doing this, but I guess that’s not the most important thing anymore.
Chase and Eric believe I can do this. They love me, they care about me, and they’ve been the driving force that’s propelled me this far.
I can’t let them down.
But if I don’t stop fucking worrying, I’ll ruin the routine and all of our chances at the crown with it.
I push all other thoughts out of my mind. I glance below, trying to pick Chase and Eric out from the crowd. I’m too far up to actually make out individual faces, but there are two forms in the seats below that look bigger, burlier, and sexier than the others.
Somehow, in my heart, I know it must be them.
Chase and Eric are watching me. I’m dancing only for them.
God, they’re so fucking hot.
A tingling sensation spreads through me. The silk is cold against my hot skin, and, if I imagine hard enough, I can feel Chase and Eric’s hands on my body as I spin high above the ground. Below me, a sea of faces goes in and out of focus, but I only have eyes for two of them anyway.
I spin faster and faster until I come to an abrupt stop.
The material rubs against my skin, and tiny electric shock waves pulse through me. I rock forward, then back, swinging above the crowd.
Then, I rock forward again and allow the silk sheets to unfurl around my thighs, calves, and ankles, sending me plummeting towards the ground.
The crowd gasps—I hear their concern and feel the tension in the air, especially when I keep falling, faster, and faster towards the stage until it looks like I really am going to go splat against the floor.
And if that happens, I’ll be a Kara pancake.
I imagine Chase and Eric’s bodies against mine, kissing and touching me as I fall. They caress my body, and they tease and stroke me in places only my men are allowed to stroke.
About ten feet off the ground, I stop, and the crowd applauds with relief and awe.
My legs come out in a perfect split. I throw my head back and revel in the feel of cool air against my hot pussy, bare and on display, dripping wet and begging to be taken by my men.
I’m not worried about falling anymore. I know the sheets are going to hold my weight.
If I do fuck this up, I know Eric and Chase will be there to catch me—and even if they won’t, for once, I finally feel like it’s okay.
I don’t need them to catch me.
I can catch myself.
I start another climb, up and up until I’m no more than a sexy focal point on the ceiling for the crowd.
The music is coming to its end.
Let’s wrap this thing up.
My body feels as if it’s going to burst into fucking flames. My insides are alight, and all of my nerve endings are standing at attention.
I’ve climbed so fucking high I can’t make out anyone or anything below.
But I know what’s down there in the crowd, all buff and handsome and muscular and waiting for me.
And I know I have to come down sometime. Might as well make it on cue.
I let myself fall.
