Page 113 of His Turn

Chapter Twenty-Nine - Bric

Inside her apartment I dominate. No waiting for an invitation. No allowances for awkward moments. No second-guessing or looking back. It’s one hundred percent on.

“Take off your clothes, put on your pointe shoes, and wait for me in the studio.”

Nadia stares at me. I wait for her comment or objection. I wait for her mistake that will end all of this before it even starts. I won’t put up with it this time. Not one bit.

She turns on her heel, takes off her coat as she walks away, throws it on the floor, and then whips her sweatshirt over her head before she disappears into her studio.

I allow myself one small smile as I take out my phone and compose the text. It takes me a few minutes to get the wording just right. All the instructions. And I have to look at my watch for proper timing. Everything must go off without a hitch for this to work.

Nadia Wolfe will learn a hard lesson about control tonight. Very hard lesson.

The text response comes back. I read it and slip my phone into my suit coat pocket.

Game on.

When I walk into the studio she’s on the floor tying the pink satin ribbons around her left ankle. The other shoe is already on and tied, so she wasted no time obeying. It’s a good start. For me, at least. Nothing about this will be good for her.

She’s got her legs folded, but open. The way a dancer has them when they’re putting on shoes. Her pussy is pink and wet, her nipples hard and peaked as her arm brushes against them while she checks her shoes.

“Get in position at the wall, Nadia.” I don’t give her any more clarification than that, but she knows what I mean. She walks over to the brick wall, places her hands flat against it as she spreads her legs into second position, and then she rises onto her toes.

“Closer,” I say. “I want your face pressed up against that wall, Nadia.”

She deflates a little. One small breath rushes out of her chest. But she inches her toes forward until her nose is touching the brick.

“Why did you want to go to Montana with me?”

She’s in profile, so I can’t see her face clearly. But I see her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Nadia. Answer me.”

“To… to be a good friend.”

“No,” I say. “That’s not why.”

She deflates a little more. Lets out another breath. “To play a game with you.”

“Correct. Tell me what your plan was.”

“Bric—”

“Tell me,” I say, cutting her off and speaking harshly, “what your plan was.”

“You were right.”

“About?”

“I wanted something dear to you and the only thing I could think of was your privacy.”

“So you wanted to get my secrets.”

“Were they secrets?” she asks, looking over her shoulder just a little to find me off to her right.

I huff air. “I was raised by a polygamist, Nadia. What do you think?”

She shrugs. “It looked… functional to me.”