Title Page-3
195 Words
“Carousel-slut?”
“Sorry. That’s what I…” He stopped. Somehow he knew that what he said next wasn’t going to sound good.
“That’s what you call all the girls you torment on your merry-go-round, is that it?”
“Guess so?” He sort of blushed.
“And if I want to come back?”
He liked that. His eyes glimmered darkly. “We could do other things too. By day this is a kid’s paradise, by night a haven for the wicked.”
“Ooo, my, you’re like the devil.”
“Some girls like that.” He sounded proud.
“Well you can count me in.”
“You know,” he hedged a bit, as if he were wondering whether to say what he was thinking, “you know, I make toys, special s*x toys, mechanical things…”
“What do you mean? What kind of things?”
“f**k machines. That’s what I call them. Maybe you’d like to try them too, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said weakly. “Maybe I’d like to try them too.”
Early the next morning, I walked out, intact. The memories, seared into my mind, kept coming back every minute of my day. I couldn’t shake them. Yes, I wanted to return. I knew I had to. This was exactly what a troubled heiress like me needed now, I told myself. I would return to the cowboy’s carnival, with his carousel and his f**k machines, and I’d forget Garrison Tate—let him stew in his juices wondering what happened to me.
- Writer
