Page 75 of Viktor

“Sure,” she stuttered and tried to hide how badly her hands shook when she searched for it on Netflix. He affected her so much. It was embarrassing.

He caught her hand when she tried and failed to type in the name. “Easy,moye sokrovishche.” He took the laptop and typed in the show’s name. “How do I get back to where we were?”

“Click on more episodes.” She hung her head when she heard how husky her voice was.

His fingers clicked over the keys, not a shake to one of them. It annoyed her he wasn’t nearly as affected by the chemistry between them as she was.

Viktor hid his smile and pulled up the episode they’d both fallen asleep watching. He adjusted the screen and clicked play before leaning back on the very uncomfortable couch. He thought about how comfy the bed was but nixed that idea. Sara in a bed? No way would he be able to keep his hands to himself.

She picked up her pizza and munched, her eyes looking everywhere but at him. It wasn’t until she winced that he paid attention. Her back was hurting. Dammit. He kicked himself for not noticing it earlier.

“Want me to go get you some pillows?”

“No.” She set her plate down and rolled her shoulders. “I don’t think pillows will help me right now.”

Viktor shoved the table out and hauled her between his legs.

“Hey!”

“Let me help you,moye sokrovishche.” He pushed her forward a little and started to use his fingers to dig deep into her muscles and massage the stiffness out of them. A low moan escaped her. “Better,da?”

Her head dropped, exposing her neck, and he leaned forward, placing a tiny kiss at the nape. He couldn’t help himself any more now than he could in the bathroom earlier. She was just kissable.

“I’m going to push your shirt up so I can see where the worst of the bruising is. Are you good with that?”

She was silent for at least a full minute before she nodded. Her fingers dug into her thighs so hard, he feared she might leave nail marks.

Sweet Lord, her back was a living bruise. Purples, greens, and reds were splashed like someone decided to use her flesh for a canvas they threw several buckets of paint at randomly. This had to hurt. “Do you need me to get you some Motrin? Shit, did we bring any?”

“It’s in my purse. I took some while you were getting the rental. I have another hour or so before I can take more.”

“A massage isn’t going to help this. It might make it hurt worse,” he fretted. “And this damn couch isn’t helping.”

Mind made up, he stood, bringing her with him, and carried her into the bedroom. He pulled down the comforter and ordered her to get in. Then he went back into the living room and grabbed his laptop. She could be pissed all she wanted, but he was not making her suffer that damn couch.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes got big when he kicked off his shoes and went digging for his laptop charger.

“Setting up in here. Your back can’t take that torture device they call a couch.”

“You are not getting into this bed with me!” Her voice screeched like a hoot owl, and he bit back a grin.

Finding the charger, he plugged it in then took all the pillows from his side of the bed and used them to prop her up. She was encased in a wall of fluff. “Does that feel better?”

She nodded, her eyes narrowed.

“I’ll get your purse so you’ll have the medicine when you need it without having to get back up.”

He had an idea and stopped. He used the room phone in the living room and asked for four extra pillows. They assured him they’d bring them straightaway.

He grabbed their drinks along with the open two-liter of Coke and headed back into the bedroom. He set everything on the nightstand and went back into the living room to wait for the staff to deliver his extra pillows. It didn’t take long, maybe five minutes, but it gave Sara some extra time to calm down. Something she needed. That had been his goal, after all.

Once he thanked the staff and tipped them, he returned to the bedroom and used two more of the pillows add some extra padding around the base of her spine where the heaviest of the bruising was.

Then he climbed into bed with her. He stayed on top of the covers and leaned against the headboard and the two pillows he’d kept for himself. “See, I’m notinbed with you. I just really want to watch a few more episodes.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting to your own hotel room? They don’t hold them forever, you know.”

He smirked. “Now, how am I going to protect you if I’m not here?”

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