Page 146 of Dance of Devils
“On your knees,bound, sayingplease, sir,” he murmurs darkly.
35
BROOKLYN
“The fuck are you grinning about?”
I startle from my position on the studio floor, quickly glancing up at Val.
“Hmm? Nothing,” I blurt.
He smirks, his brow furrowing as he peers at me…no,past me.
“Who’sBDE?”
I frown. “Wha—” I feel the color surge into my face before I quickly fumble to turn my phone over as Val hoots with laughter.
“Pro tip: if you’re gonna look at dick pics at work, don’t do it with your back to a mirrored wall.”
I groan, glancing back quickly at the wall of the studio I’m leaning against—mirrored, obviously—before turning back to him.
“I wasn’t looking atdicks, weirdo. But you already know that,” I mutter. “I was just texting a friend. Chill.”
His brow cocks. “A friend with the initialsBDE?” He snickers. “Don’t insult my intelligence. We both know that’s your guy.”
I inhale deeply, trying to will the heat from my face. “Why do you say?—”
“BDE,” he chuckles. “As in Big Dick Energy.”
I groan.
Val barrels on mercilessly. “Wow, you know who would be devastated if he saw you naming your new guy BDE? I mean, if he knew we called him BDE in the first place?”
I cringe, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Val?—”
“Kir,” he sighs. “As in, thegold standardfor Big Dick Energy.” He flashes a grin, shaking his head. “You’re seriously telling me whoever you’re fucking warrants the name more thanthatguy?”
No, I want to tell him.You’re right. There’s no man on Earth who warrants the nickname “BDE” more than Kir.
Obviously, I won’t be telling Val who “BDE” is in my phone. It’s not because I’m embarrassed about my relationship with Kir, or the age difference, or what he does for a living. The problem is that I dance for the Zakharova, which Kirowns.
But luckily, I’m saved from continuing the conversation when Madame Kuzmina sweeps into the studio, black skirts and shawls streaming behind her like raven wings. She clasps her ringed fingers together and fixes us with a stern look.
“We’ll be moving out to the stage for the last two hours of rehearsal,” she says matter-of-factly. “We have an important guest who would like to sit in.”
I glance at Val, then at Evelina, Milena, and Naomi, sitting and stretching. They just shrug, as confused as I am.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen,” Kuzmina says sharply, turning on her heel and marching back out.
We all follow her out onto the stage, clustering in small groups while we await what comes next.
Madame Kuzmina smiles her usual pointed, slightly venomous smile at us. “I’m sure you all know Mr. Nikolayev?”
My pulse skips as she turns, gesturing with one glittering ringed finger at a figure in a dark suit who materializes out of the shadows beyond the stage.
A figure with piercing, dark devil eyes, which have landed right on me. A figure who sends a wolfish, hungry grin my way before he subtly lets his tongue drag over his bottom lip.
Heatexplodesin my face as achy need coils in my core.
