Desired and Dominated (17 page)

When it comes to Nate, I have no idea how he sees me, or what he thinks of me. He says he loves me, but he can’t see the part of me that is screaming out to him; calling to the Dominant inside of him, and begging for him to claim me as his own. He thinks I’m his best friend’s perfect little sister, innocent and unmarred by the evils of the world. If only he knew…

I don’t want him to know. I hope he never finds out. But, I do want him to see me for who and what I really am – a submissive who so desperately wants to be his. He challenges me in ways that I both love and hate in equal measure, and I think I challenge him too. I’ve forced his hand more than once now, and I can see that it unsettles him.

I’m brought back to the present by Luca’s voice in the distance, and yet, he’s standing right beside me. “Show time. Get your head straight.”

The music begins, heralding my entrance and just like that, Luca sweeps me into the air and out onto the stage.

My concentration dances between the ballet I’m performing, and Nate, swinging back and forth like a pendulum. The fanciful stage that I’m gliding across, and the departure gate at Heathrow Airport. My heart just isn’t in it tonight, and as I perform a basic pirouette, my footing falters and I land awkwardly on my already sprained ankle. The crowd gasps, and Luca rushes to my side before the other dancers on stage improvise for a moment until my understudy takes to the stage. He lifts me into the wings, setting me down gently, and returns to finish the show.

I can’t put any weight on my ankle, and I know my own body so well, I can tell that I’ve torn the ligaments before the company doctor even looks at me. I lay heartbroken when he confirms my worst fear. I’m looking at up to three months recovery time, six weeks without any form of training whatsoever. I’ve
never
gone that long without dancing. I don’t know how I’ll survive it.

Luca stayed with me while they wrapped my ankle and set me up with a set of rather cumbersome crutches. Then, he helped me back to the hotel where we booked my flight back to New York. I shouldn’t have travelled on my own, but I couldn’t face staying in Prague and watching everyone perform while I sat on the sidelines.

Now I’m back in New York, in my apartment, and I haven’t told a single soul that I’m here. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours sleeping, thanks to some very heavy painkillers. When I finally come round long enough to be aware of my surroundings, I grab my phone off the nightstand to check the time. I forgot that I’d switched it off after texting Nate...it must be three days ago now.

I slump back down onto my pillow and power it up, watching as it immediately starts beeping and chiming. Emails, texts, missed calls and voicemails. Half of them from Luca wondering if I got home safely, a handful from my mom asking how the tour is going and if I’m eating enough! And then there’s the name that catches my eye. I have a message from Nate and a single missed call from his number.

I throw the phone down on the bed, unable to face whatever he has to say to me. I didn’t exactly leave things on a friendly note with the last text I sent. I’m so frustrated by how crazy I am over him. We’ve shared one very hot, very intense night which ended too quickly, a handful of kisses, and a few intense moments when I thought that we were really connecting. I’m not this girl. The one that goes gaga over a guy from the get-go, but I know it’s different with Nate. We’ve known each other for nine years, and I’ve been aware of my feelings for him since the beginning, but I still hate what he turns me into. A silly school girl who can’t concentrate on her own life, obsessing over what a boy thinks of her. It’s everything I hate. Everything I’ve never let myself be. I never give second chances, but with him, I seem to give them unconditionally.

Maybe he’s right, maybe I should stay away from him. But I can’t. Something inside of me keeps telling me over and over again, that if I just break through his exterior, and he understands what I want in a relationship, then we could be
amazing
together.

I decide to call Luca and my mom before I brave looking at the text from Nate. I spend thirty minutes listening to my mom going on about Prague and all the things I need to see while I’m there, and I can’t bring myself to tell her I’m back in New York. She would fuss and worry and smother me for the next six weeks. Luca gives me an earful for not calling sooner, and then he talks about everything
except
the show. He knows that I live and breathe dance, and how much it will kill me to be away from it for so long, but
not
talking about it feels so fake, I can’t stand it.

When I hang up the phone, my stomach starts to churn as I open the message from Nate. I look at the time it was sent, realizing it was three hours after I had sent my last text to him. It said only two words.

Nate: I’m Sorry

Tears well in my eyes at the simplicity of his message.

I quickly dial my voicemail and brace myself to hear his low rasping voice in my ear, and a chill runs through me at the sound of my name on his lips.

Sofia. Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m calling. We’ve said everything that needs to be said. I’m so sorry for hurting you. If I could take it back…I’d love to tell you that I would…but it wouldn’t be the truth. It’s selfish, and wrong, but I wouldn’t give up a single second that I’ve had with you. The feel of you coming apart beneath me, has ruined me for anyone else. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, and it wasn’t really my intention to say any of that. Fuck!! This is what you’re doing to me, Sof. You have me twisted and conflicted, and I want you so badly my body burns, every minute of every day. I need to put the phone down before I beg you to tell me where you are so I can come and get you. It was never meant to turn out this way. You’re my Nyx. You always have been. You are beautiful inside and out. You excite me and terrify me in the same breath. Take care of yourself. I promise that if we see each other again, I will keep my hands to myself, and I won’t make this any harder on either of us. I’m so sorry.

I’m calling his number before I even know what it is I want to say.

“Sofia?”

“Hi, Nate. I just got your message.” The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening, but I can hear his breathing, labored and erratic. “I know it was a goodbye speech, but when you said that you were close to begging to come and get me…Nate…I need you right now.”

“I…I can’t.”

“I’m not asking for love, or forever, or even sex. I’m…” I don’t know why I’m telling him this. “I’m back in New York.”

“What happened? I thought you were in Prague for three weeks.”

I can feel my voice thick with tears as I say it out loud. “I got injured. I can’t dance for at least six weeks.” I breakdown into a flood of tears as I let myself feel the weight of it all bearing down on me.

“Oh shit. Tell me exactly what’s going on.”

I take a deep breath before I continue. “I’ve torn the ligaments in my right ankle. I’m pretty swollen, strapped up, and on crutches for the next few weeks. I won’t be able to even
begin
training again for six weeks or I risk permanent damage. I can barely walk right now, and the thought of not dancing for so long…destroys me.”

“I’m so sorry. What can I do to help? Who’s with you?” I hesitate, knowing he’ll be annoyed. “Sofia. Who. Is. With. You?”

My voice is a whisper. “No one knows I’m here, or that I’m hurt. I can’t face them. They would be all over me, and wanting to talk it to death. I just can’t deal with that. I’m holding it together by a thread as it is.”

“Not even Simon?”

“Especially not him. He would have me moved into his apartment immediately and I would be on bed rest with him fussing over me. He might even be worse than my mom.”

That makes him laugh. “Well I don’t feel good about hiding this from him. It took me a long time to earn back his trust.” I can feel the pangs of guilt, strangling my insides, but I just can’t face him right now.

“Please don’t tell him. He’s done enough worrying about me to last a lifetime. He has enough going on with Jess and V, and work. I am NOT adding to that. Please.”

“Fine. But I’m coming over to look after you. My flight gets in late tonight, so let your doorman know I’m coming.”

My heart skips a beat. “You don’t have to do that. You said you didn’t want to be around me.”

“I know what I said, Sofia. Don’t argue with me. I’ll be there around 11pm. You shouldn’t wait up for me, you need your rest, but I’ll be there when you wake up.”

I pause for a moment. Letting his commanding voice wash over me. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Now go and rest. I’ll see you soon. Bye.” He hangs up the phone before I have a chance to say goodbye. My head is spinning as I lay back down on the bed. Nate is coming here, tonight. He wants to look after me. I feel terrible for imposing on him, but more so, I’m elated that I’m going to see him again.

I spend the day drifting in and out of a drug induced slumber; dreams and visions of Nate dancing in my head. I don’t even get out of bed to eat. I simply take the painkillers the doctor gave me, with a sip of water, and let myself be pulled back into the darkness. I feel comfortable there.
He’s
there. My dark defender.

I feel like my flight took twice as long as it should have. Normally I can sleep from takeoff to landing without a problem, but today was different. Not only do I have the boys from Flaming Embers flying back with me, high on the anticipation of their future success in the U.S.A, but my mind is racing with the knowledge that I will be seeing Sofia tonight. My focus should be solely on the band. I’ve worked so hard to get this deal together, and it will be huge for them, and for the label. I need to give them my full attention, and yet, I’m already preoccupied.

I couldn’t let her stay in that apartment alone, not telling anyone that she’s injured, or even that she’s in the country. Dancing is everything to her, and if she made her ankle worse by struggling through without help, I could never forgive myself for knowing and not doing anything. I should have called Simon, but the pleading tone in her voice stopped me, and she was right when she said that his plate is full with all things Jess. Those two are the perfect storm. So good together, and yet toxic in their own self-sabotage.

Once I get the guys settled in their new apartment, I stop at my own to drop off my luggage and grab a quick shower, before packing an overnight bag and heading to Sofia’s apartment.

When I arrive in the lobby, the doorman is waiting with a key and a smile, telling me to let him know if Miss Mantovani needs anything else. I thank him and make my way to the elevators. I’ve never actually been inside Sofia’s apartment in all the years I’ve known her, and I’m curious to see her little piece of Manhattan, but when the elevator stops on the twenty-fifth floor, I’m reluctant to step out. I know that I have to exercise complete control while I’m here. I can’t give in to the way I feel when I’m around her. She needs me to be strong enough for both of us.

I quietly turn the key in the lock, trying not to alert her to my arrival. It’s well after midnight now; the apartment is silent and dark except for a small lamp in the corner of the living room, which she must have left on for me. That small gesture isn’t lost on me, and I take a moment to take in my surroundings.

The air is infused with the light aroma of her perfume, tantalizing my senses, intoxicating me.

I’m torn from my reverie when I hear muffled noises coming from down the hall, and my body reacts in an instant. I’m drawn to her. My heartbeat races and my pace quickens. A tiny sliver of light creeps out from under the door, lighting my way, as her noises become louder and more urgent. She sounds pained. I don’t want to scare her, so I slowly open the door and slip into the room.