Execution (Off Balance 2)

She angled her face toward mine, and I could smell the peppermint mouthwash she had used earlier. She lowered her voice to an audible whisper. "You tell anyone about my diet pills, and I'll tell people you're sleeping with Kova."

My eyes widened. "Are you insane? I'm not sleeping with him." The denial burned the back of my throat. "Do you have any idea what kind of problems that would cause?"

"Then keep your mouth shut about me."

"Kova could go to jail based on your lie."

Her eyes narrowed. My stomach churned at the deceitful cards she dealt. There was no doubt in my mind she would use them to her advantage. She was the type to throw her mother under the bus to get what she wanted.

"Who said it's a lie?"

"It is a lie." I drew out each word. "You can't be serious."

"As a heart attack."

"You have no proof," I whispered. My heart raced a mile a minute.

"Oh, Aid, you have so much to learn." Reagan turned away and zipped her suitcase shut with a pleased smile on her face. "Not a lot of evidence is necessary when it comes to sexual allegations in this sport, you should know that by now. You have an extremely good-looking, fairly young male coach, and a pretty girl who he spends more time with than anyone else, and when no one's around, I might add. You're so stupid you can't see that he's using his power to get what he wants. He's had the same girlfriend since he was born."

"You're so far off track you can't even see straight. Nothing is happening. Do you see what you're doing? You're believing shit you made up in your head."

"I may have a wild imagination, but it’s all the authorities would need, that is, if you don't keep your mouth shut."

I lifted one brow and curled my lips. She forgot one important factor, one horrid side to this beautiful sport.

"And you seem to forget how an accusation such as this is cleaned up and swept under the rug faster than you can blink your eyes. How many coaches have been accused of having sex or inappropriately touching girls every day, and nothing happens? Nothing. Especially when it's a beloved, decorated coach. They always side with him and you know it. They protect the coach and the sport first, everything else comes second." It was heartbreakingly true, and I was disgusted with myself to use it to my advantage.

Reagan's jaw gnashed together. She knew I was right. I hadn't elaborated one bit about how such claims were thrown out. It was one of those things that came with the sport that no one ever spoke about. It was rare a coach was actually arrested, let alone banned from coaching thereafter. Gymnastics officials did everything in their power to keep their image squeaky clean. There were many coaches and trainers accused of heinous crimes and still owned gyms and coached every day. But when there was a coach such as Kova, a legend in the gymnastics world, extremely important to the succession and achievement of the gymnast, it was all about protecting the integrity of the sport first. Touching, ass slapping, and lingering fingers were not out of the ordinary. It was common and never questioned because it came with positivity and attention and praise, something all gymnasts craved. No one gave it a second thought.

"Are you going to get up and get ready?" Her tone was always so patronizing when she spoke to me. My eyes reached hers in a daze, my forehead creased so hard I could feel indentations forming deep lines. I'd been lost in thought over the darker side of this sport. "We don’t have all day to wait." Reagan scowled. "The world doesn't revolve around you."

I began to wonder if I had fallen for the same kind of manipulation countless others have. The same kind of abuse they were secretly victims of yet had no idea.

No, I couldn't have. I knew right from wrong.

My skin didn't crawl in revulsion when Kova looked at me. I wasn't repulsed when he touched me in the gym, or when we'd been intimate together. He made my heart race with desire. When it came to Kova, I never felt forced to do anything against my will. Reagan was messing with my head.

When Holly and Sarah emerged from the bathroom, I whispered in Reagan's ear, "I'm pretty sure if you had blood wor

k done, your punishment would be much more severe than mine and Kova's." I smirked. "Just sayin'. So don't try me. I can make up white lies too."

The worst part of what I'd just said, was that it was one hundred and fifty percent true.

I sidestepped Reagan and quickly entered the bathroom and locked the door. I stripped out of my street clothes and stared at the reflection of my naked body. I was thin, too thin, but I loved the way I looked. My skin had a healthy glow, the work of a dedicated coach and gymnast. I placed my hand on my stomach, where Kova's had once been, and imagined his fingers slowly caressing me as I worked toward my breasts. I fingered my nipples, pinching and tugging on the raspberry buds, visualizing Kova doing it. A shiver of need ran up my spine and my eyes rolled shut. My other hand slid to the apex of my thighs and cupped my bare sex. Kova said he liked that I was smooth. There was no use of power then, just need and expression. I shifted my legs open a little and glided my fingers along the plump, swollen lips. It had been months since I felt release. I pictured Kova delicately stroking me with his expert fingers, increasing that euphoric pleasure, taking me higher and higher. I swallowed hard at the dampness that coated my fingers as a soft, quiet sigh escaped my parted lips.

There was no way I didn't want him on me, in me, caressing me. Kova didn't repulse me in the least. In fact, it was the complete opposite…and I almost wished it wasn't.

While my body wanted—and craved Kova's touch—I knew in my heart he wasn't like other coaches. An enigmatic essence with a touch of darkness and exceptionally gorgeous, Kova had a commanding aura that made me want to succumb to every word that rolled off his Russian lips. Another rush of wetness coated my fingers at the thought of him, and I slid one inside, imagining it was him pushing into me.

I gravitated toward him, we gravitated toward each other.

I knew the difference between abuse and manipulation, and want and desire. Everything that happened was because I wanted it to, not because he forced me.

I refused to let Reagan’s words invade my head with shit that wasn't true.

I braced myself against the sink with my other hand and inserted another finger, visualizing it was Kova's hard cock thrusting into me with pure dominance. Pressure rose as I reached that desired peak. My knees buckled, and I fell into a small state of bliss, rubbing the little bud in circles as I came hard.

"Let's go, princess!" Reagan pounded on the door, and my eyes popped open. "I don't have all day!" she yelled.