Georgia Le Carre
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You Don’t Own Me #2
Published by Georgia Le Carre
Copyright © 2016 by Georgia Le Carre
The right of Georgia Le Carre to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN:978-1-910575-33-8
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Author’s Note
This book is steamy. :)
It is part 1 of a 2 book series, and it is over 50,000 words long. Included with this edition is a FREE bonus book, Beautiful Beast, which will introduce you to Shane, Snow and Lenny who appear in You Don’t Own Me.
Dedication
For my muse, Snjezana Sute aka Snow.
I wish to extend my deepest and most profound gratitude to:
Caryl Milton
Elizabeth Burns
Nicola Rhead
Tracy Gray
Brittany Urbaniak
SueBee★bring me an alpha!★
Russian terms of endearment are different from English ones. Here are the translations for the ones that are used in this series.
lyubov moya” (my love), “kotik” (pussycat), “kotyonok” (kitten), “zaika/zaichik” (bunny), “malysh” (baby), “lapochka” (sweetie pie), “zvezda moya” (my star), “zolotse” (my gold). “rybka” (little fish), “myshka” (little mouse),
‘YOU DON’T OWN ME’
‘Yes, I fucking do!’
Contents
‘YOU DON’T OWN ME’
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Beautiful Beast
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
- I’ll tell you just how much a dollar costs
it is the price of having a spot in Heaven -
One
Dahlia Fury
‘Oh, my God, Dahlia, you have to help me,’ Stella, my best friend and roomie cries. She has burst open my bedroom door and is standing at the threshold theatrically wringing her hands.
Stella is a well-known drama queen so I don’t panic. I mute my video and turn towards her. ‘Calm down and tell me what’s wrong.’
‘I have a massage client in less than an hour and I’ve just realized that I’ve also got another client coming here.’
See what I mean about drama. ‘Just cancel one of them,’ I suggest reasonably.
‘I can’t do that. The one who is coming here is that crazy rich bitch from Richmond who told me she is going to recommend me to all her crazy assed rich friends in Richmond. She’s probably already on the train. And the other is a Russian Mafia boss.’
I frown. First of all, I didn’t know she had a Russian mafia boss as one of her clients. Must address that one later, but not yet. ‘So what do you want me to do?’
‘Can you stand in for me?’
I shake my head resolutely. ‘Nope. Absolutely not. You’ll just have to tell the Mafia boss that you can’t make it.’
‘I can’t do that,’ she wails. ‘One of the clauses in the confidentiality agreement I signed was that I would never miss any of my appointments once I agreed it unless it was a life or death situation.’
‘Huh?’ I cock an eyebrow. ‘He made you sign a confidentiality agreement?’
She makes an exasperated sound. ‘Yes.’
‘What kind of person puts an unreasonable clause like that into an agreement with their masseuse?’ I ask, genuinely surprised.
‘Dahlia,’ she screams in frustration. ‘Can you focus, please. I’m running out of time here.’
‘It’s simple. Go on to the Mafia boss, and I’ll tell your other client when she arrives that she can have a free massage next week.’
‘No, she can’t come next week. She is away, and anyway, she’s in pain and really needs me.’
‘So tell the Mafia boss that you can’t make it because you have a life and death scenario.’
‘You want me to lie to Zane?’ she asks incredulously.
‘If that’s what his name is,’ I reply coolly.
She comes into the room and starts pacing the small space like a caged animal. ‘I’m not going to lie to him. He’ll know.’ She stops and stares at me. ‘He’s got like the coldest most piercing eyes you ever saw. It’s like they can see right through you.’
I laugh. ‘I can’t believe you said that.’
‘I’m serious, Dahlia. Lying to him is out of the question.’
‘Well, then you’ll have to let the rich bitch down.’
‘Did you not hear me? She’s in pain. Oh, please, please, can you help me this time. You can have my fee and I’ll owe you big time.’
‘No,’ I say clearly. The solution to her problem seems obvious to me —she should cancel the Russian guy.
‘I’ll do the dishes for a whole month,’ she declares suddenly.
I pause. Hmmm. Then I shake my head.
‘I’ll do the dishes and clean the apartment for a whole month.’
I hesitate. ‘Even the bathroom?’
‘Yes, even the bathroom,’ she confirms immediately.
‘I’d love to help but—’
‘Two months,’ she says with a determined glint in her eyes.
My eyebrows fly upwards. I open my mouth and
she shouts out, ‘Three fucking months.’
To say that I am not tempted would be a lie. I HATE cleaning the bathroom. I am very tempted, but I can’t actually take her up on her offer even if she offered me a year’s worth of bathroom cleaning.
‘Jesus, Stella. Just stop. You know I’d love to take you up on your offer, but I simply can’t massage like you. I just about know the basics and rich bitch’s problem sounds complicated. For all I know, I’ll just end up making her back worse and instead of giving you a glowing recommendation to all her rich friends she will do the opposite.’
Stella fixes her hazel eyes on me. ‘I wasn’t thinking of her.’
I look at her, astonished ‘What?’
‘He just needs a simple basic Swedish. Just exactly what I’ve already taught you. You just need to put a bit more effort into it. He likes it really hard.’
‘Like hell, I’m massaging your Mafia boss.’
She falls to her knees. ‘Oh please, please, please.’
‘If you’re trying to make me feel guilty, it’s not working,’ I say.
She looks at me pleadingly. ‘Pleeeeeeease. I promise you he’s really easy to do.’
‘Oh yeah. Is that why you’re so terrified of him?’
She turns her mouth downwards. ‘I’m not terrified of him.’
‘Could have fooled me.’
She sighs. ‘Actually, I’m a bit … in lust with him,’ she confesses with a wry smile.
‘A bit? You?’ I explode in disbelief. This is Stella, the woman who turns a spider sighting in her bedroom into a shrieking Victorian melodrama.
‘Yeah,’ she says softly.
‘In lust?’
‘Yeah.’
I shake my head in wonder. ‘Since when?’
‘Since,’ she shrugs, ‘forever. I’ve always had a thing for him, but of course, he’s way out of my league. The women he dates are all at least ten feet tall and totally perfect. I only register on his radar as a pair of strong hands.’
I stare at her suspiciously. ‘Are you just making all this up so I’ll go and massage him?’
She shakes her head. ‘No.’
‘Why haven’t you told me about this man crush before?’
She looks down at her right shoe. ‘There seemed to be no point. I’ve come to terms with it. The truth is it is way stronger than a crush, and it could even be love, but there’s nothing I can do about it.’
Suddenly I realize why every time we go out she freezes out every man, even the ones that look like serious contenders, who come up to her. ‘Oh, Stella!’ I breathe. I had no idea she was suffering in silence.
She looks at me sadly. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass, but right now I just need your help. I don’t want to let him down or give him cause to fire me. Until I’m ready to let go of him I want to keep this job going.’
‘But—’
She holds up her hand. ‘Don’t say it. I know. It’s stupid and it’s crazy, and I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I can’t let go. Not yet. One day I’ll eventually leave, I know that, but just not quite yet, OK?’
‘OK.’
One corner of her mouth lifts. ‘So you’ll do it?’
Now I am torn between feeling horribly sorry for her and not wanting to be manipulated into massaging her Russian. ‘I do want to help, Stella, but I can’t. I’m not qualified. I wouldn’t know what to do or say to someone like that.’
‘You don’t even have to talk to him. He never says a word. Just comes in and lies there, and after I’ve finished, I turn down the lights and leave. He doesn’t even lift up his head to say goodbye.’
Ugh, sounds like a horrible man. I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. ‘I think this is a really bad idea,’ I say, but my voice is weak. Both of us know that she has won.
‘Yes, you can. It’s a plain massage. Nothing fancy. Just basic moves. You could do it with your eyes closed. All you have to remember is that he likes it hard.’
I stare at her indecisively.
‘Remember three months of no cleaning.’
‘Stella,’ I groan.
‘Oh, thank you. Thank you. I promise you’ll never regret it. I owe you one.’
I sigh. ‘I’m already regretting it.’
‘Come on. Let’s get you into one of my uniforms.’
We go into her room and I take my T-shirt off and slip into her white uniform. It has a black collar and black buttons all the way down, but because my boobs are so much bigger than hers I cannot button all the way.
‘Now what?’ I ask.
Her head disappears into her closet. She comes out with a scarf, hooks it around the back of my neck and tucks it into the front of her uniform.
I look at myself in the mirror.
‘I really don’t know about this, Stella,’ I say doubtfully.
‘Are you kidding? You absolutely look the part.’
‘Are you mad? This uniform is too tight.’
‘No, no, you look great,’ she says quickly and bundles me out of her room. ‘Look, you best get going or you’ll be late. The car will be here anytime now.’ She grabs my handbag from the dining table, presses it into my hands and practically pushes me out of the front door. Holding on to my elbow she rushes me down the corridor.
‘Does he even know that I’m going in your place?’
‘Not yet. Noah’s phone was engaged, but I’ll call again in a bit.’
We go into the lift together and as she said, there is a black Mercedes with tinted windows waiting outside. She opens the back door and manhandles me into it.
‘See you later,’ she calls cheerily as she closes the door with a thick click.
The driver glances at me in the mirror.
‘You all right, Miss?’
‘Yeah, I’m all right,’ I say with a sigh. Looks like I’m massaging the man Stella is in love with.’
Hey, I heard you are a wild one, wild one, wild one.
Two
Dahlia Fury
The Mafia boss’s house is in Park Lane. A dour, deeply tanned man in a black suit and a white shirt opens the door and raises his eyebrows. He is wearing an earpiece. Noah, presumably, and obviously Stella never managed to get him on the phone.
‘Stella can’t make it. I’m taking her place,’ I explain shortly.
‘We do body searches on people we don’t know,’ he says, his eyes travelling down my length.
‘The fuck you are,’ I tell him rudely.
He grins suddenly. ‘I like you. You’ve got balls.’
‘Whatever,’ I say in a bored voice.
His grin widens. He’s got good strong teeth. ‘If you’ve got a weapon hidden in that tight dress you deserve to kill him.’
‘It’s a uniform,’ I say stiffly.
‘No kidding,’ he leers.
I look at him with raised eyebrows.
‘Come with me.’
I step into the mansion, he closes the door, and I follow him into the Mafia Don’s residence. What can I say? Wow? Crime really does pay. Yeah, must be nice to have so much. Polished granite, marble columns, fantastic lighting, touches of platinum, sleek black leather trimmings. Nope, not my thing, nevertheless very, very impressive in a cold, masculine sort of way.
He takes me down a curving staircase that appears to go down at least another three floors into the ground. I have heard of such houses. There are more floors underground than above ground. He stops after the second flight of stairs and walking down a corridor, opens the door to what looks like a dimly lit massage room.
He flicks his wrist, looks at his watch, and says. ‘He’ll be with you in five minutes.’
Then he winks and disappears. I look around the room. Opera music is being piped in through hidden speakers, and it is wonderfully warm. I walk towards the massage table. All the different oils are in a kind of bain-marie on a trolley next to it.
Shit. Suddenly I feel really nervous.
I’ve never massaged anyone other than Stella and my sis
ter. I take a deep breath. No, I can do this. I will tell my grandchildren about the day I massaged a Russian Mafia boss. I smile to myself. I pick up a bottle of oil. I twist the cap and smell it. Oooo… lavender, musk and something else … Rosemary?
I pour some on my palm and rub my hands together. The smell surrounds me. Very nice. I adjust my clothes. I know exactly why the black suit had been staring at me. The uniform is way too tight. I hear a sound outside the door and quickly put my hands to my sides and look towards it.
The door opens and this huge mountain of a man with a small towel slung around his hips comes in. Whoa! I inhale in slow motion. Jesus! No wonder Stella is all tied up in knots. He exudes pure sexual energy. Let me describe him to you. The first thing that hits me after his height and breadth are his incredible tattoos. They cover his body and they are not an untidy collection of random images, but each one subtly connected to the others. For example; an angel smiles at a tiger tearing into an impala, above their heads are intricate images of stars, demons and other strange creatures. On his shoulder a cobra hisses dangerously, its mouth open and hood flared.
The next thing that floors you are his eyes. You know those crazy drawings of Nordic aliens, with their hypnotizing ice-blue eyes? That’s what his are like. Piercing and magnetic. Shit. I can’t stop staring. Those crazy eyes slide over me, lingering on my breasts, and then pulling back, and narrowing on my face.
I want to smile, but I am frozen.
‘Where is …?’ He makes a rolling motion with his big, powerful hand. Stella was right; after six months, twice a week, she has not even registered enough for him to even remember her name.
‘Stella,’ I supply helpfully.
‘Where is … Stella?’ he asks quietly. His voice is deep and the accent is strong and actually extremely sexy.
I open my mouth to speak, and nothing comes out. I clear my throat. ‘She couldn’t make it. I’m here to take her place.’
He nods. ‘Ok,’ and going to the massage table lies on it face down.
I gaze at the splendid body, the muscles gleaming in the dim room, and think of Stella. God, I’m not surprised she’s fallen for him. I can feel my blood throbbing in my veins. I want to touch him. My desire is so strong it’s as unsettling as a fingernail on a blackboard. It sets my teeth on edge. It’s almost like making love. I feel hot and excited. My face feels flushed and I pray he hasn’t noticed my hesitation. I take a deep breath. Right. Swedish. Make it hard, Stella is saying in my head.
You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 1) Page 1
