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Really? That was it? Point my toe?

He released the shell of my elbows and slowly slid his hands over to my ribcage, my bare ribcage, to rest right under my breastbone where the bottom of my sports bra sat. His hands held firm as my heart beat roughly against my chest.

“Steady your breathing. Remember what I taught you. Breathe with your stomach,” he said, voice low.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t think.

And I tried not to take deep breaths as if I was gasping for air.

His touch ignited a cluster of sparks throughout my body that went off simultaneously. Never having this reaction to another person before, I didn’t know how to respond to his presence. Heat pooled in my belly as my breath caught, not to mention, my calf and ankle started burning while my leg was still held high behind me.

?

??Your chest is too low and your hips are not squared,” he stated, annoyed.

This fucking guy. He really knew how to push my buttons. He was irritating me, insinuating I didn’t know what I was doing. My chest might have been at a little low, but my hips were most definitely squared.

My nose flared and I dropped my leg and stood defiantly. His warm hands slid to my waist then down to my hips.

“My hips are squared,” I said through gritted teeth. “I learned that in beginner’s gymnastics.”

He challenged me.

“Either you had a shit for brains coach, or you just never comprehended the correct way to do it. Your hips are out and your chest is low. This is a very common mistake among gymnasts if they are not trained correctly from the beginning. I have seen you do this during practice many times and I thought we might have corrected it last time you were in here, but I guess I was wrong. Do not argue with me again over this, Ria. I have been doing this longer than you have been alive. I know what I am talking about, little girl. Now get over to the barre and I will show you how wrong you are.”

“Little girl?” I mocked and pushed at him. “I didn’t ask you to come in here to help me out. You just walked right in and interrupted my time. And if you did see me mess up during practice, I highly doubt that you’d keep your mouth shut. You love to pick at every little thing I do. ‘Not enough. Faster. Higher. Why are you doing it this way? That is no good. Again,’ is all that seems to come out of your mouth. If it’s not that, you mumble in Russian under your breath.”

My gut dropped. Oh God. Maybe I shouldn’t have added in a faux Russian accent.

He stepped forward, and my heart skipped because I refused to step back. In a deathly quiet voice, he said, “If your obnoxious music was not blaring and echoing throughout my gym, I would not have had to come in here. Get your ass to the barre. There are so many things I need to correct where you are concerned. If I do not correct you now, you will just make more work for me down the line. There are not enough hours in the day for that, or patience.”

Dropping my arms, I stepped back. “This wasn’t why I came to the gym. I purposely came when no one was around so I wouldn’t have to be ridiculed for every damn thing I did. I needed to not think about a gymnastics routine for once and let go for a few moments alone. I needed to be free, not having to practice.”

“Needed to be free? Your life is gymnastics!” He roared. “It is all you are allowed to think about. Eat. Sleep. Flip. Repeat. Nothing more! I am not here to waste my time for fun. You are here because I get results and can take you to the next level, which is what you wanted. You want the Olympics. You. Not me. I have already been. You need me, not the other way around. I do not need you, do you understand? I took you in as a favor, a bargain for a bargain. If you are only here for fun, then we are done. I have spent a ton of time working on you, perfecting you, more so than I have ever done with another gymnast, God knows you need it. At least you can show a little respect in the process.”

I hated him and his arrogant attitude and his deep green eyes and pompous tone. My chest was tight, his words struck hard. He brought me down and I didn’t like it.

But he was right. And I despised admitting it.

Gymnastics was my life. It was everything I’ve ever worked for. I needed to shut up and take it, or take a hike.

Standing on my toes, I spun around and headed to a ballet barre that mounted to the wall.

“Teach me the correct way, Oh Master,” I said sarcastically. I couldn’t resist. I knew I was being bold tonight, more than usual. He probably didn’t know what to do with my impulsive attitude, seeing as the only thing I did these days was take orders during practice. I’d reached my breaking point.

“Grab the barre and kick your leg back. Hold it there.”

I didn’t hear him move, but Kova was suddenly standing next to my shoulder. One of his hands gripped my inner thigh while the other was flat between my breasts to hold me in place. His fingers were splayed out, one fingertip accidently touching the plump mound of my breast. I gasped, sucking in the dense air and wondered if he realized it.

His warm fingers scorched my flesh. Kova squeezed my thigh hard, moisture pooled between my legs. I bit down on the inside of my lip, having to hide my reaction to him. I needed to control it, but I didn’t know how.

“Look in the mirror,” he spat out.

I looked.

“See? Your chest is angled too low for the height of your leg. Push off the barre with your arms to bring your chest up.”

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