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After removing the ball from her foil, we circle each other like ravenous beasts, one slow step after the other leading to an uncoordinated shuffle that boils with tension. I’m torn between being heavily turned on and heatedly pissed off. This is just what she does to me.
There’s just no control with her, is there?
I tap the end of her foil. “Are you sure, sugar? This could hurt.”
“I want it to hurt.”
“When did you become such a pain slut?”
She laughs dryly and replies, “Spend enough time with Parker and you become a little bit of a glutton for it.”
“So, it’s a kink thing, huh?”
She takes the bait, screaming while she swings wildly at me. I laugh as I avoid her blade, enjoying the wild look in her eyes. It’s beautiful to see her unhinged like this. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t feel so satisfied, so tickled about how she’s behaving. The fact that I can inspire her with such passion makes me feel important.
Until I remember why we’re sparring.
She slashes my cheek, causing me to recoil as I raise my hand to protect my eyes. Her foil clatters to the ground as she covers her mouth with a gasp.
“Oh God, Soren,” she whispers fearfully. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
I wipe the blood from my cheek and lick my lips, my gaze full of determination. “Pick up your foil.”
“No, I can’t do it.”
“Yes, you can. You have no problem using me for my cock and resources. Why wouldn’t you want to hurt me physically, too?”
She shakes her head while stepping back. “But I don’t.”
“But you do,” I accuse harshly. “You admitted it yourself. Don’t fucking bother lying to me now.”
“That’s enough!” Coach Neill shouts from the doorway. “Step away from each other right this second. I can’t believe I’m seeing this kind of reckless behavior in my studio.”
While I recover the ball from the ground for the foil, I listen to Coach Neill drone on about safety, medical lawsuits, and whatever else happens to fall from her lips about her personal morals on fencing without the right protective equipment. She sends us both from the studio when she’s done, the look of disappointment on her face hurting Alex more than it hurts me.
I’m more upset about my face.
The way Alex slashed me without worrying about the consequences tells me precisely what type of person she’s become. It’s a great sign for a boss but a horrible indication of how she’ll flip on us without warning, turning into the very monster she wants to get revenge on. I’m furious by the time I get to the locker room and shuck my clothes to the ground, nearly forgetting a towel as I march toward the showers.
Cold water splashes my chest when I turn the knob, causing me to hiss at the sensation. Once I have the water at my preferred temperature, I dunk my head under the stream, cringing at the pinch in my cheek. She did a number on my precious face, and I won’t soon forget it. Were it not for Coach Neill walking in, I would have taken her down right there.
No, I should humiliate her again, I think with a smirk as I wash. She doesn’t respond to anything except degradation.
I’m soothed by my plan, knowing that it’ll take time to get Alex in line. She’s a fighter and a defiant brat, but she’ll soon break, and she’ll give in because she knows it’s good for her.
Or else I’ll simply leave her to the wolves.
