by Apryl Baker
“Dimitri’s an asshole, but he would never hurt me. He’s all bluster. If I thought for a second he’d raise a hand against me, I wouldn’t be sitting here with his royal highness. He is a control freak, but never at my expense. He treats me like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him.”
Sara nodded, but she couldn’t shake her mood. Viktor pulled her close, tucking her into his side, and she didn’t pull away this time. She needed the comfort.
“Fuck,” Dimitri muttered.
“It’s okay, baby doll. Just give me a minute, okay?”
“Baby doll?” Viktor glanced between her and Dimitri. He knew she’d called him that before and told him Becca was fine with it, but what the ever-loving fuck?
“It’s a nickname.” Sara explained how it came about. Becca really didn’t seem to care, but he didn’t like it. Not one little bit. He wasn’t about to forbid her to call his brother that, though. He wasn’t her asshole ex. He’d just have to learn to deal with it.
Their food arrived, giving them all a much-needed distraction. He’d been tempted to reach over and smack Dimitri when he went into his dominant mode. He understood it. Dimitri needed to make Becca understand his feelings, but at the same time, what the fuck? Sara had just come out of an abusive relationship. That shit was unacceptable around her.
He’d played it cool, watching her out of the corner of his eye. When she’d moved closer to him, he’d counted it as another win. She trusted him in her heart, even if her head was still having issues accepting it. She looked ready to break, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled her to him, and she leaned against him. It made him want to puff out his chest and crow, but he kept his cool.
Sara was a person you had to slowly sneak up on because she was conditioned to distrust people, thanks to Shit Face. He’d been working on it from the day he decided he wasn’t going to fight his feelings anymore, and his efforts were paying off.
Dimitri looked stricken that his macho crap had caused his friend to retreat from the conversation. She wasn’t even eating; her fork pushed her fries around on her plate. He needed to get her back to the hotel. Once she was calm enough, she’d forgive his brother. Deep down, she knew he wasn’t her ex and that her friendship meant the world to him. Dimitri wouldn’t have called him and offered to pay for his services for just anyone.
“You about ready to go?”
Her look of relief was telling, and Dimitri made a noise Viktor wasn’t quite sure how to define. Becca snuggled into him, and he held on to her for comfort.
Viktor reached for his wallet, but his brother waved him off. “I got this. You go take care of her.”
Viktor waited for Sara to slide out then followed her quietly out of the café. She was hunched in on herself, and he took several long strides to catch up. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.
“He didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I know.” She was so quiet, it worried him. He opened her door and buckled her seatbelt when she climbed into the vehicle.
“Sara?”
“I’m fine.” Her words were harsh, but he didn’t take it the wrong way. She was dealing with memories, and he understood that.
“I know you’re fine, sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Never be sorry, baby. Just know I’m here when you need me.” He caressed her face once and then shut the door.
She needed some time to get out of her own head. He started the SUV and headed back toward the hotel, his only intent to get her settled and relaxed.
The room was chilly when they got back. That would be his fault. The hotel had the room set on seventy-four when they arrived, and he’d dialed it down to sixty-five before they left. He worried it might be too cold for her, but the Texas heat was no joke. He started to sweat when he got out of the SUV and hadn’t stopped until he’d stepped into the air-conditioned lobby of the hotel.
“Is it too cold?” He hurried over to her suitcase to fish around in it until he found her pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. They weren’t her fuzzy ones, but at least they weren’t shorts.
He felt her behind him, something he’d grown used to. His entire being was so attuned to her, he knew exactly where she was in a room without looking. His father told him once when he found the woman meant for him, it would be second nature to feel her before he saw her. Viktor didn’t really understand him at the time, but, boy, did he now.
“No, it’s just a little chilly.”
He turned, her clothes in hand, and thrust them at her. “Here, go put these on. You up for some pizza and pop?”
She smiled softly. “Yeah.”
He ordered Papa John’s while he waited for her to come out of the bathroom. The sink turned on, and he took out his laptop. He figured they’d have a night of pizza and Supernatural. Sara needed to calm down, and this might do the trick.
Pizza and a Netflix binge-watching session wasn’t his usual idea of a date night, but it seemed to fit. Sara wasn’t like the usual women he dated. They wanted glitz and glam. His girl wanted comfort and someone to appreciate her. Netflix and pizza were perfect.
She came out a few minutes later, her face scrubbed of all the makeup. He preferred the natural look on her. She was beautiful with or without it. She also looked younger than her twenty-seven years, standing there in her pajamas, her eyes haunted. He didn’t hesitate. He wrapped her in a bear hug and held her for a long time.
“He scared me,” she whispered, and he heard the tears in her voice. “He’s one of my best friends, and he scared me.”
Viktor picked her up so her feet were off the ground and walked her over to the couch. After settling her in his lap, he hugged her to him. “Dimitri just is the way he is when it comes to his women. Becca doesn’t put up with half his shit. Drives him nuts, but he would hurt himself before he laid a finger on her.”
“How did I not know he was like that?”
Viktor ran his tongue over his teeth, a nervous tick he had. “Because you were never one of his women. You get the Dimitri I get, the one his family and friends see. It’s who he is. His bedroom tendencies are private, and we don’t push him on it.”
“That didn’t sound like a bedroom tendency today.”
“No, but she is his woman, and she questioned if he was sticking around for the long haul. It brought out the dominant side in him. He felt the need to protect her, even from herself. I get it, I do, but I can see where you might misinterpret it.”
She sighed, her warm breath tickling his neck where she’d burrowed her face. His dick jumped, and he silently cursed. She needed comfort right now, not to have his arousal poking her in the ass.
“Are you like that?” The hesitation in her words almost broke him.
“No, it’s not my thing, but I am vicious when it comes to protecting the people I love. I will go to bat for them and use everything in my arsenal to keep them safe and to make sure they know they’re loved every single day.”
Her fingers bunched his shirt tightly. “I’m so afraid you’ll hurt me, Viktor.”
“I won’t, baby. I swear to God and all that’s holy, I won’t hurt you.”
“I want to believe you so much.”
“It’s okay, moye sokrovishche. I’m a patient man who’s going to prove it to you.”
His phone rang, causing him to groan. “It’s got to be the pizza.” He pulled it out of his back pocket, and sure enough, it was the delivery guy. He told him to bring it on up.
“I should move.” Sara snuggled deeper into his lap.
“If you want to eat, yes.” He chuckled when she sighed heavily and wiggled out of his lap. He stood and fished his wallet out, retrieving two twenties, and handed them to her. “Can you get the pizza? I need to use the bathroom.”
“Sure.”
“Tell him to keep the change.”
Sara watched his ass as he swaggered into the bathroom. Viktor didn’t w
alk. He swaggered. She didn’t think he was even aware of it, but it accentuated his ass. Her eyes stayed glued to it until the door shut behind him.
Damn, but the man did things to her hormones. Even unsettled as she was from Dimitri’s dominance show, she appreciated Viktor’s ass. Her head and her priorities were not in a good place.
She answered the knock at the door and grinned at the guy’s huge smile when she told him to keep the change. The pizza only came to twenty dollars and some change. Viktor could be trying to impress her, but she would bet good money he tipped like this all the time. He was a generous man.
She curled her nose at the smell of pepperoni. Not her favorite, but she’d pick the little suckers off hers. They’d sent over paper plates, napkins, and cups. Viktor must have asked for it, because they didn’t typically deliver that stuff. He did get three two-liters of Coke. She put two of them in the mini fridge and took everything else to the coffee table in front of the couch.
Viktor had his laptop open to Netflix.
A huge, goofy smile broke out, and she laughed. Pizza and a movie. Best date night ever.
Wait…date night? This wasn’t a date. Or was it? Her stomach knotted up, but not in a bad way. It dipped and twisted, but in that delicious way she hadn’t felt in years.
The bathroom door opened, and he came out, his eyes finding her. He always looked at her with this blazing intensity, and now was no different. In fact, it seemed to have heightened, and it caused her to blush from head to toe.
She never blushed. It was something she thought she’d outgrown, but he made her blush with just a look.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ordered pepperoni and a plain cheese.” He sat down beside her. If he noticed her reaction to him, he didn’t comment on it, but really, how could he not? Her face felt hot enough to be cherry red.
“Delia would be the pepperoni lover. I prefer actual pizza and not all that other gunk on it.”
He opened the pizza boxes and found the plain cheese. After heaping a plate with three slices, he poured them both a cup of pop. The box containing the pepperoni pizza landed right in his lap. The whole thing.
“More for me, then.”
“You’re not going to eat that whole thing?”
“Sure will.” He picked up a slice and swallowed half of it in one bite. “Probably eat the rest of yours too.”
“Uh huh.” She sipped her drink. “Like pizza much, do you?”
“My favorite food in the world. Although my sister-in-law might like pizza more than I do, but she’s a pizza snob.”
“A pizza snob?”
He made a face. “I’m a Papa John’s man. She doesn’t think pizza is any good unless you get it from one of those places owned by Italians making it for over a hundred years. She snarls when I order this.”
“I like Papa John’s.” She took a bite of hers, and the tangy flavor of the sauce burst across her tongue. They had the best sauce out of all the delivery places back home.
“A woman after my own heart.” He inhaled another piece, and Sara’s eyes widened. Good Lord, she thought Dimitri was bad, but Viktor could pack it away right alongside his brother.
“Do all your brothers eat like this?”
He paused, another slice midway to his mouth. “Like what?”
“Like you’ve been stranded on a desert island for weeks with no food.”
He turned sheepish. “We all love food. It’s why we work out for a good hour or two every day. Papa taught us if we are gonna eat like pigs, then we best be prepared to pay for it.”
“I haven’t seen you work out once since you got to the farm.”
“You sleep later than I do.” He swiped the corner of her mouth and then sucked the stray pizza sauce off his finger. “Besides, helping your dad at the farm is a better workout than anything I could do on machines. I think he’s trying to kill us. I have muscles aching I had no clue were there before.”
She didn’t really hear anything he said after he’d sucked on his finger. Images she shouldn’t be seeing rose up and blindsided her.
“Can you turn on that show we were watching about the brothers?”
“Huh?” She blinked, and he laughed, the sound low and knowing, but he didn’t call her out.
“The show we watched the other night? I liked it. I thought maybe we could watch some more of it tonight.”
“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 gr
abbed 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 not in bed 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?”
She shot up and twisted to look at him. “You are not staying here.”
He gently pushed her back down, using the movement to scoot closer. “Yes, I am staying here. I’ll sleep on the couch, but for right now, I want to watch some of this. Or do you not trust yourself not to jump me long enough to watch a movie with me?”
Her mouth worked to form words. It was hilarious, but he decided to put her out of her misery.
“I’m not going to jump you, Sara. Relax, drink your Coke, and let’s watch the show, okay?”
Her face screwed up so hard, it alarmed him. He didn’t want her to be so uncomfortable she couldn’t relax. That was what he’d planned—a relaxing night before the stress of tomorrow. If this was going to bother her, he’d go into the living room and watch whatever was on cable.
“Fine,” she huffed and slouched against the pillows belligerently. He had no idea you could slouch belligerently, but Sara pulled it off, and pulled it off well. Mason needed lessons on belligerence from her.
She didn’t kick him to the couch, and that was the biggest win of the day.
They settled into a comfortable silence and watched the Winchester boys do some crazy things. He hadn’t thought he’d like the show, but it was funny as hell. He’d have to tell Conner about it. His brother needed more laughter in his life.