Page 70 of Savage Pakhan

We watch the couch burn until there’s nothing left but the metal frame. The smoke dances in the air, swaying to the beat of the river rushing down below. Embers glow in the grey ash, the metal hot and covered in soot.

“Time to go inside and clean. Pour a bucket of water on it, Nikolai. To be safe.”

“Da. Good idea. I’m going to make smore after this,” his English a little broken as he speaks. “We deserve, Da?”

I chuckle, agreeing to agree. The only treat I want is the woman upstairs waiting for me.

The next two hours are spent cleaning every speck of blood off the floors and walls. We’re wearing masks, wanting to be safe from the bleach fumes. My fingers hurt after scrubbing nonstop, but finally, the house is clean and free of the crime committed.

“Where am I going to sleep? You ruined the couch.” Nikolai points to the empty space in the living room.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It was either me or them. I didn’t have a choice. Get the couch of your dreams tomorrow. You can sleep in the office. There’s a roll out cot in the closet.”

“A cot?” he spews the word as if it is a curse. “You are rich. You can afford to get another option.”

My head starts to hurt. “Nikolai, I don’t care. Sleep on the cot. Tomorrow charge the furniture of your dreams to the card.” I rub my temples, remembering why I need my space from him sometimes.

“I am going upstairs. You can use the bathroom down here. I’ll drop some clothes to you from the loft.”

“I have clothes. I packed for the occasion. I will see you tomorrow. We’ll talk through the contract.”

“Da.” Every step I climb feels like I’m dragging a thousand pounds up the staircase.

I groan when I stretch my neck, then place one arm behind my back, tugging on it with the other.

Fuck. That feels good.

That’s the worst part about cleanup. Being on the same position for hours has the muscles in my back aching. My knees hurt too from kneeling on the hardwood floors. I’m not as young as I used to be. Even my shoulders hurt.

I push the bedroom door open to see Mia standing there in one of my robes. It’s giant on her, swallows her whole. I’ll need to tell Nikolai to pick up luxury items for her tomorrow when he replaced the furniture. She needs clothes here and I’d love nothing more than to see her in a silky robe that clings to her beautiful body.

“You’re back,” she grins, running towards me, but I hold out my hands to stop her.

I see the hurt on her face, her pouty lips turning downward from the rejection.

“I want nothing more than to hold you. It’s all I’ve been thinking of for the last few hours, but I smell like blood, sweat, smoke, and soot. Let me shower and I’ll hold you all night.”

She tugs the belt off, her robe coming undone, and she lowers her arms, the expensive cotton slipping off her body to reveal a view I’ll never be sick of. Mia holds out her hand for me to take, a gentle, understanding smile twinkling her eyes.

Da. Beautiful. The most beautiful woman who has ever existed is standing in front of me. I am a lucky fucking man.

I don’t hesitate to take her hand. The glide of her skin against my palm has all the stress fade away. I release a breath, allowing her to lead tonight because I am exhausted and in pain.

She tugs me into the bathroom and it’s still warm from her bath. The mirror is fogged. The bottle of wine is half empty and sitting on the edge of the tub. Mia flips the shower on, the lights turning from a dull yellow to a deep blue. The change helps the headache building.

She pours two glasses of wine, sets them on the shelf in the shower. We don’t speak. We don’t need to. She steps out, her palms landing on my chest, her fingers slipping down to the hem of my shirt.

Mia undresses me, tossing my shirt in the hamper. “Alek,” she gasps my name in horror, her touch hovering over a deep nasty bruise blooming across my side.

“You should see the other guy,” I tease, but can’t even laugh at my own joke. It hurts too fucking much.

She tugs off my ruined sweatpants, my hard cock bobbing free. “Really?” she snickers.

“I’m injured. Not dead,” I can’t help but smirk.

Mia pulls me into the shower and the hot water sprays across my back. I groan, my muscles relaxing under the rainforest showerhead.

“Are you going to be okay?” Mia grabs the loofah, squirting it with a good amount of body wash. “I don’t like this side of the job. I hate seeing you hurt.”