Page 123 of Koroleva

"Well, it doesn’t soothe me."

"You mean you don’t like touching me?" He narrowed his eyes.

"It doesn’t relieve me," I cut off.

"But you do like touching me... or you used to until very recently." I clenched my teeth thinking about what happened at the hotel.

I had resolved to distance myself from the brunette; he was a damn distraction that had almost cost us our lives. And what happened outside the club was a mess. Lucky for us, there were no living witnesses left. I managed to get my fingers in a little and tried to make room to carefully scratch him.

"Here?"

"Mmm, no, a bit more to the right, and... up..."

"Here?" I insisted, changing direction.

"No, no, lower, lower, lower, a bit further down." I pulled my hand out and looked at him. He gave me a roguish smile. "Keep going down," he murmured, grabbing my wrist and guiding it towards his groin. He was fully erect. "Yes, definitely here was where it itched and not higher, I was mistaken," he mumbled, making me move my hand over his underwear.

"For this type of itch, you don’t need me." I pulled my fingers away as if they burned. I didn’t want any kind of contact like that with him, not anymore.

I went to get up, but he intertwined his fingers with mine and pulled on me. I stumbled and he grimaced in pain.

"Don’t do anything stupid, you could hurt yourself." His thumb traced circles on the palm of my hand.

"Oh, come on, Andrey, don't screw with me."

"Of course I won't screw you, not now, not ever," I replied, using the double meaning of the word.

"But what the hell are you talking about?" he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Getting intimate with you has been the worst decision I've ever made in my life. I should never have crossed that line and I won’t do it again."

"You can't blame what happened on what's between us."

"There's nothing between us." I stood firm. "We’re forced to live together and be work colleagues, nothing more."

"You don’t even believe that yourself. Do you really think just anyone turns me on like this?" He touched his groin for emphasis.

"I don’t care who turns you on, what I know is that this is as far as it goes and I won’t touch you with any intention other than to help you while you're bedridden."

"But I need you and want you to touch me, and I know you want it too, even if your mouth says otherwise."

"Look, Aleksa, what happened, happened. It's best we forget it, and if you need that kind of relief, just jerk off. At most, I can hand you the box of tissues and the lubricant."

"It's not the same. And no matter how much you despise what 'there is between us,'" he stressed, "sooner or later you'll realize you need me as much as I need you."

"I don’t need you, and you don’t need me either," I insisted. "We had sex once when you drugged me. I jerked you off another time, forgetting I was at work and it almost cost us our lives. So, this ridiculous game ends here."

I got up, finally freeing myself from his grip, and he made a gesture of pain that I ignored.

"Oh, and don't ever ring that damn bell again or I'll throw it so far it'll end up in Lapland with its rightful owner."

"And if I'm shitting?"

"Then fill that empty Nescafé jar," I pointed to the said jar before storming out of the room and slamming the door.

As soon as I returned to the kitchen and took my place, everyone was silent with terrified faces. Maybe the slamming was too intense.

"What?!" I protested. No one spoke. "Then let's continue the game..."

---