Page 115 of His Turn

Chapter Thirty - Nadia

Rage. That’s the look I see on his face. Pure rage. How dare I? How dare I challenge him? Well, fuck this. “You know,” I say in his ensuing silence, “you’re just another man who likes to pretend he’s in control. But you’re not.”

“And you are?” he says. His voice is low. Throaty. Almost a growl.

“Nope,” I say. My voice is light. Teasing. Almost a purr. “I’m just a girl who knows what she wants. And I’m going after it.”

“What’s that, Nadia?” He’s still got a hold of my hair. He’s still staring me in the eyes. Still pretending he’s in charge. “What do you want?”

“Right now?” I shrug. “You.”

He lets go of my hair and throws his head back in a laugh. “Is that right? Are you in love with me, Nadia?”

I shake my head slowly. “No. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I like you enough to care. I like Jordan enough to care too.”

He squints at me, brows furrowed in confusion. But he doesn’t know the right question to ask to get the answer he needs about that statement.

“Are we going to play or not?” I ask. “Because I’m tired.”

“Maybe you need a day to rest?” he asks. “To play your best game.”

“I’m good,” I say. “If you think you’re up to it.”

“Get back in position.”

I turn to the wall, go into second, and up en pointe. I’m not at my best. I’m very tired. My muscles are quaking seconds into round two. But… Jordan promised me something if I did what he asked. And I’m interested in that promise. I think it has potential.

Besides, Bric really is at a disadvantage here. I know so much more about him than he knows about me. I have all his weaknesses piled up at my feet. If he wants to fuck with my head… Well, he’s gonna get fucked right back.

That’s the only way to earn his respect.

“Do you have headphones?” Bric asks.

Headphones? What the fuck? “Yes,” I say. Hesitantly. “In the living room. Under the TV.”

“Stay in position,” he says, walking out of the studio.

I look over my shoulder. Listening as he shuffles around in the other room. When he returns he’s holding the headphones that came with the apartment. They’re good ones. The kind that cancel out noise and everything. And he’s pulling his tie from his shirt collar. It’s a red tie, I notice. My heart beats a little fast because I know what he’s gonna do next.

“Hold still,” he says, covering my eyes with the makeshift blindfold and securing it tightly at the back of my head. “I’m gonna put the headphones on.”

He does. And it’s silent. But there’s no music or anything. The cord just hangs limply at my side. And then it doesn’t. Because he’s taking my hands off the wall and tying them together with it.

My legs are shaking at this point. My toes are burning. I lose my balance and have to lean on him. His body is warm and hard. But he’s cold tonight. And for the first time I wonder if I’m making a mistake.

He pulls one headphone away from my ear and says, “I’ll be nice and let you lean on the wall, Nadia. Because that’s the kind of guy I am. But you will submit. I know how much you can take. I’m in control of you. So you need to trust me and obey. If you come off pointe the game is over and I win.”

He’s such a dick. He’s so not worth it.

But then I hear Jordan’s words in my head. All the things he told me last night. And I force myself to do as I’m told. Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone. Even Elias Bricman has a breaking point. And tonight, I’ll get him past that point.

I will break him.

“Do you understand?” he asks, whispering the words in my ear.

“Yes,” I say. “You’re in control. I must submit.” I want to add something snide at the end of that answer, but I hold it in. He’ll walk out. I know he will. He’s not in the mood. And I’ve already come this far. I’m practically there. So I hold it in.

“Good girl,” he says. “The purpose of submission is to enjoy it, Nadia. So just… let it all go and enjoy it. OK?”