Turning Point Club Box Set

by JA Huss

  “Dinner and a short talk are two completely different things.”

  “A snack?” I say, trying to laugh. I don’t feel like laughing, but this whole thing is nerve-racking. Jordan’s plan is so… out there. “I’m in the studio right now. There are three dozen other dancers in here with me. Not my first choice of place to have a conversation. I’ll be happy with coffee. Or a burrito from the food truck outside the ballet. Something. Anything.”

  He sighs. “When?”

  “Tonight?” I ask. “After I get off work? I have to stay late tonight for an extra rehearsal. So I don’t get off until six. The dinner truck is fine, OK? Just… I need a few minutes of face-to-face with you. I’m sorry, I really am. I want you to know that.”

  “If that’s all you have to say then—”

  “It’s not,” I say, before he can finish. “I have more than just that. But it’s the kind of thing…” I turn away from the other dancers in the studio so they can’t hear me. “It’s got to do with the game.”

  “The game is over, Nadia. I made that pretty clear last weekend.”

  “I know,” I say. “It’s over. But I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

  “Five minutes,” he says. “Outside the ballet at six.”

  “Good—” But I get hang-up beeps because he just ended the call.

  Dick.

  “Everything OK?” Michael asks. Like me, he’s just here to watch the principals dance their parts so we know what’s going on.

  “Fine,” I say, plastering on my forced smile and then turning away to watch the stars of the show. “It will be, anyway.”

  “Go get ’em, girl,” Michael says, pushing me on the shoulder. “Those two men you have are hot as fuck.”

  Yes, I think in my head. They are definitely good-looking men. But their minds… ugly, ugly places, those minds.

  I get out late. Which figures. This is the ballet, after all. You’re not supposed to have a life outside dance. I sit all day watching everyone else go through their parts and then finally, at quarter after five, they want me to go through my steps with Romeo.

  When we’re dismissed, I take off my shoes, stuff my feet into some flats, and grab my pack and coat. It’s dark outside and I’m sure that Bric has gotten impatient and left.

  But then I see him standing over by the dinner truck, watching me as I hurry across the street in a rush.

  “Sorry,” I say. “I got—”

  “Save the excuses, Nadia,” he says, his tone sharp and dismissive. “Just get to the point.”

  There’s other dancers hanging around, so I give them a nervous look, indicating that we need privacy. “My car is over there,” he sighs. “If you’d prefer to talk there.”

  “Perfect,” I say. And it is. For my plan to work I need to be in that car, right? With him, alone, on my way to… wherever he chooses.

  We walk over and I let him open the passenger door for me. At least he hasn’t forgotten his manners. When he dropped me off last weekend he didn’t bother with manners. So progress? Maybe?

  When we’re settled inside he says, “Should I take you home? Or do you have plans tonight?”

  I laugh as I pan my hand down at my sweaty dance clothes. I’m wearing sweats, sneakers, and a too-large hoodie over my tank top. “Home,” I say. “I’m obviously not going out anywhere looking like this.”

  He starts the car, but says nothing. Just eases his way out onto the street. I only live a few blocks away, so I get right to the point. “I know I already said I was sorry, Elias.”

  “Shit,” he says, turning the corner onto my street. “Let’s just stick with Bric.”

  I let out a sigh. “Fine. Bric. It was unfair for me to play games with you that day. OK? I need you to understand that I’m sorry for that. It was the Master, right? When I said that?” Such a huge mistake. Because that really was what set him off, I know it. I went over the entire weekend with Jordan and he figured it out immediately.

  “My brother was dead, Nadia. You fucked up.”

  “I know,” I say, desperate to get more words in before he pulls up to my building. “I’m sorry. It was unfair and I didn’t mean it.”

  “Then why did you say it?” Bric asks. “We had a great night—”

  “I know,” I interject. “We did. I was… you didn’t deserve that, OK? That’s what I’m trying to say.” And there’s my building. One block away. But thankfully, we’re stuck at a red light.

  “I thought we had turned a corner,” he says. “I thought you were settling in. But obviously I was wrong. You’re not submissive. You’re never going to be submissive. And that’s why I decided the game needed to end. We’re wasting each other’s time, Nadia. It’s stupid. And counterproductive. I thought you were interested in me but—”

  “I am,” I say. “I really am.”

  “Well, it’s not going to work,” he says. The light has turned green and we’re two seconds away from my building.

  “I can change,” I say. “No, listen,” I say, grabbing onto his arm as he pulls into the valet area to drop me off. “I want to change. I like you, Bric. I do. I want to make this work. I want a second chance. I want—”

  “You want to manipulate me, Nadia. And I’m just not into it.”

  “I can stop doing that, you know.” I straighten in my seat, then spy the valet coming to open my door. So I put up a finger, telling him to wait, and he backs off, but waits to let me out. Why does the valet have to be so attentive here?

  “I want a woman who likes what I have to offer, Nadia. You’re obviously not that woman.”

  “I am her, Bric. I am. It’s just different, OK? It’s taken me some time to figure it out, but I want to try again. I can please you, Elias.”

  He shoots me a sneer, but I don’t take it back.

  “I took advantage of the situation up in Montana. I took advantage of your… sadness. But I didn’t do it to hurt you.”

  “No, you did it to win. I’m not taking any of this personally, understand? It’s just a game. And now it’s over. I paid you, I—”

  “I want another chance. Just… give me another chance and I’ll show you. I am the woman you want. I am the woman you need. I’m in love…”

  But I can’t say it. I can’t. Jordan told me to say it, but I’m not going to. Because I don’t love him. Not yet. Maybe I can, if we get this second chance. But I don’t now and so I won’t use that to manipulate him into participating. He would never forgive me for that if he finds out what’s really going on. And he will find out. It’s only a matter of time.

  “You’re in love… what?” he says, laughing. “In love with me? Were you seriously going to say you’re in love with me?”

  I shake my head, lying. Because that was what Jordan told me to say. “I was going to say… I’m in love with the idea of submitting to you.”

  “Are you?” His laugh is a full-blown guffaw this time. And then his face goes slack and serious. “Prove it.”

  “Come upstairs,” I say. “Come upstairs and I’ll show you.”

  I catch a grin at that invitation. It reminds me of Jordan. It reminds me of… me. It reminds me of the diabolical plan and for a moment I wonder who is playing who right now.

  But then the grin slides into a frown. “What will be accomplished if I give you another chance to submit? Because from my end, Nadia, this is just gonna prolong the inevitable. We’re not compatible. We never were and we never will be.”

  “And that’s all my fault,” I say, desperate to get him to change his mind. “I realize that now. If I had just given in and taken what you and Jordan were offering then we’d be… we’d be good, ya know? We’d still be playing. We’d be living together in that house you bought. We’d have something… real.”

  All lies, of course. I can’t believe I’m doing this for Jordan. I really can’t. Because I do like Bric. Elias. Both sides to him. I realize that now. Maybe this actual moment is when the realization hits.

  “
I don’t want your money,” I say. “I’m going to get a cashier’s check tomorrow and give it all back. I’m not here for the money, or the game, or Jordan,” I add. Because that part’s true too. “I’m here for you. I want you, Bric. So please, just come upstairs and let me show you we can be good together. Give me a chance to please you.”

  “And then you’ll leave me alone?” he says.

  I sigh. Because… “I hope you won’t want me to leave you alone.”

  “I will,” he says. “So if I come upstairs and give you what you’re asking for right now… you should know that going in. I’m out. Leave me alone after tonight. Leave my friends alone. Just go away, Nadia.”

  It stings. I’m not gonna lie. Because I don’t want to just go away. Not after everything Jordan told me. So I suck in a deep breath of air… and agree. “I promise,” I say. “If you come upstairs with me right now, and if you want me to disappear when you leave, I will. I won’t bother you ever again.”

  He opens his door without saying anything. I watch him as he walks around the front of the car, opens my door and says, “Last chance to submit, Nadia Wolfe. Do as you’re told tonight or just go upstairs alone.”

  “I will,” I say, accepting his hand as he helps me out of the car. “I promise. I will.”

  Bric tosses his keys to the valet and puts his arm around my waist as he leans into my neck to whisper, “I’m going to give you what you want, Nadia. But you’re going to regret it.”

  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.”

  “Functional?” I ask her. “That chaos looked functional to you?”

  “I don’t know, Bric,” she sighs, giving up. “If you say it wasn’t, then fine. It wasn’t. But it didn’t look…”

  I wait, but she stops. “Didn’t what?” I snap.

  “Aside from the understandable sadness, it was…” She shrugs again, struggling to put what she saw into words. What did she see? I hardly know, I was so drunk. “Just a big family from what I could tell. I liked them.” She looks at me again, then quickly back at the wall. Her legs are beginning to tremble from the effort of staying en pointe. “Your niece was funny.” Nadia smiles, like she’s remembering some conversation I have no knowledge of. “And your sister Keren. She’s young. My age. I wasn’t expecting that. She invited me to—”

  “Shut up.” I can’t take it anymore. She knows the faces that go with those names. It fucking kills me that I let that happen.

  She gulps air, but she shuts up. One foot comes up off the floor. She bends her knee, like she’s getting a cramp and needs to stretch. “I’m very tired tonight,” she says, by way of explanation. “I just got out of rehearsal. My legs—”

  “So tell me to leave.”

  “Bric,” she says, turning her head all the way to the side so she can see me. “I’m just sorry, OK?”

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “Because I like you. And I think you like me.”

  “You’re wrong. I want nothing to do with you.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because you asked me to come here. If you want me to leave, tell me to leave.”

  “I want a normal conversation—”

  “I don’t do that, Nadia. I do this. So if you like me, we do this.”

  She exhales loudly. Annoyed. “Whatever. If this is what you need to get over the fact that I won your stupid game, fine. Consider it a gift.”

  “There she is,” I say.

  “What?” she snaps. Very irritated with me now.

  “The dom, Nadia. The top. The one who wants control. That’s what you want, right? When you agreed to play the game, you were playing your own game, weren’t you?”

  “So were you.”

  “I was playing our game. I was playing by gentleman’s rules.”

  She snorts out a laugh. Lifts her other foot up, stretches her leg, places her foot back down. She’s tiring quick tonight. She won’t last much longer. “Are you going to fuck me? Or not?”

  I actually laugh. “Not.”

  “OK,” she says, coming down off pointe. She turns, leans against the wall, and crosses her arms. “Then we’re done, I guess. You can leave now. But when you look back, Bric, when you’re old and alone and you’re thinking about all those girls you used up and threw away… don’t blame me. And don’t call me, either. This is your one chance to be real. When you walk out, that chance with me is over.”

  I think about that little speech for a few seconds. Which gives her courage, because she continues.

  “Everyone knows you’re broken, Bric. You have no friends left because you’re so goddamned broken.”

  “I guess you know them all, right?” I laugh.

  “Chella told me.”

  My heart actually skips a beat.

  “She told me everything, Bric. About you. About Smith. About Quin, and Rochelle. And… Adley.”

  Anger is boiling up in my blood.

  “And Jordan doesn’t count as a friend. Not
really. He’s just another anonymous player in your game. He told me that, you know. He told me last night that you need help. He thought maybe I was the one who could help you, but I guess he was wrong. You don’t want help. And everyone knows you can’t help people who don’t want it.”

  “Is that your professional opinion, Nadia? Do you fancy yourself a psychiatrist?”

  “Oh, I know all about that too. Thanks to Rochelle. She told me all about your failed attempt at medical school. How you like to mind-fuck people. That’s what you were doing on New Year’s Eve, remember? Just for the record, you freaked Jordan out that night. That’s why he hasn’t been around. He left the game because of you, Bric.”

  I control my temper and check my watch.

  “Time to go, is it?” Nadia says.

  I walk over to her. “Do you really,” I say, grabbing her hair and pulling it so hard her head falls back, making her look me in the eyes, “want to play this game with me, Nadia? Because I will win.”

  “You didn’t win last time,” she says. “Or the time before that. Or the time before that. In fact, I think you’ve been losing this game for a long, long time. I’m practically guaranteed a win. So let’s do it. Who’s the top here, Bric? Me? Or you?”

  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.”