I laugh.
Her phone rings. She looks at me. ‘Do you mind? It’s my fiancé Mark. He needs some information. I’ll only be a second.’
‘No. It’s fine. Go ahead.’
I walk away from her towards the windows thinking of my Mark. Since I told him that Daisy has been found by Zane, I have not spoken to him again. He’s a nice guy. I wonder how he is now. I should call and thank him for all his support. Then again, perhaps it’s better I leave it alone. I never felt a fraction of what I feel for Zane. It would never have worked.
‘Yeah, OK. See you there tonight,’ Molly says.
I turn back to face her with a smile. ‘Going anywhere nice tonight?’
She crinkles her nose. ‘His mother’s place. She hates me.’
‘I can’t imagine why. Any man would be lucky to have you,’ I say.
‘Oh bless you. What a sweetie you are. No, she thinks her son can do better. Where were we?’
‘She’s dead wrong.’
She smiles gratefully at me, then claps her hands decisively. ‘Now for the most difficult part,’ she says.
I grin. ‘There’s a difficult part?’
She reaches into her back pocket, snaps out a tape measure and says, ‘I’m afraid most women hate this part.’
I scrunch up my face. ‘I’m not too hot on it either.’
‘You have a stunning figure. I know a lot of women who gladly suffer weeks of pain and suffering and bandages to achieve the kind of figure you have.’ She sets about measuring me and recording the information into her phone.
‘What’s your shoe size?’ she asks as she measures the thickest part of my calf, presumably as a guide to shop for boots.
‘UK 6,’ I tell her.
‘Now a quick photograph. This is for my color reference. Smile.’
I smile awkwardly.
‘Looks like we’re all done here for today.’ She looks up. ‘I’ll come around tomorrow with a whole load of things for you to choose from.’
‘What if I need something for tonight?’ I ask.
‘What’s the occasion?’ she asks, flipping her phone closed.
‘Dinner.’
‘Where?’
I bite my lip. ‘I have no idea.’
She flicks her phone open again, scrolls down it and calls a number. ‘Hey Noah,’ she says. ‘Where is Dahlia being taken to tonight?’ She listens then thanks Noah and ends the call.
‘You are going to Uncle Ho,’ she announces and smiles mysteriously. ‘You won’t believe this, but I have just the thing outside. Come on,’ she says, and starts walking towards the door.
‘What’s Uncle Ho like?’ I ask as I hurry after her.
‘Very smart and very in. It has a wonderful Vodka Bar, and some of the tables in the restaurant have this new-fangled Le Petit Chef thing.’
‘What’s that?’ I ask curiously.
‘If I tell you I’ll spoil it. It is much better if you simply go and enjoy it,’ she advises.
We go out of the front door to where her white van is parked. She opens the back doors and it’s like Aladdin’s cave in there. She hops onto the steps and goes in.
‘You’ve got a mini shop in here,’ I say in an awed voice.
‘It’s what I’ve collected over the years. Some of it is from second hand shops, some are things designers have handed down to me, and some I’ve wheedled from customers who simply didn’t have the figure for them.’
I watch her professionally running her hands through two rails displaying a beautiful variety of clothes. There are hangers of chunky jewel-colored knitwear, camel coats, silk dresses in a rainbow of colors, leather jackets, velvet wraps in a selection of rich colors, luscious cream woolen trousers, tweeds in salmon and purple, a racy red miniskirt. There are boxes crammed full of belts and scarves, a glass case with hundreds of pieces of costume jewelry, and shelves filled with shoes. Stella would think she had died and gone to heaven.
Molly pulls out a long silver-grey cashmere coat that looks like it must have cost the earth. She comes to where I’m standing and holds it out to me. ‘This will go perfectly with your hair and the dress I have in mind for you.’
‘Oh it’s lovely,’ I breathe.
The label says, Lolita Lempika. I stroke it and it’s deliciously smooth and luxurious as the velvety tummy of a puppy.
‘It will be perfectly cozy in this weather,’ she says with her back turned to me. At the end of the second rail she finds the dress she is looking for and pulls it out triumphantly.
I shriek. For the first time in my life I actually shriek.
She beams like a girl. ‘I know,’ she gushes. ‘I’ve been saving this one for ages. I knew it was special, but I never found the right customer for it. It’s vintage Valentino. It’s even got a bra built into it. I found it in a carboot sale in Weybridge. Can you believe it? Weybridge!’
I stare in amazement at the black silk, art deco confection. It has short spaghetti straps covered with narrow, delicate frills, and filled in with a panel of sheer organza material to form the illusion of a boat neckline. An enormous flower bow fashioned of thin strips of velvet sits over the top of the right breast. The dress is form fitting until just below the waist then flares out into an A-line skirt.
I don’t know where the hell Weybridge is, but it is truly unbelievable that anyone would ever want to part with such a glamorous dress, let alone take it to a carboot sale.
‘It had a small tear near the hem, but I had it taken up by half an inch and voila,’ Molly explains.
I take a step towards the dress and touch the panel of transparent material.
‘That’s the sheerest organza you can find,’ Molly says quietly.
‘Is it my size?’ I can’t believe how much I want to hear her say yes.
‘Down to the last half-inch.’
‘It’s mind-blowingly sexy, isn’t it?’ I whisper back.
She waggles her eyebrows. ‘It is, but just in case anybody thinks you haven’t got morals, we have these.’ She dips her hands into a plastic drawer and comes up with great handfuls of pearl ropes and necklaces.
I laugh. ‘Molly Street you are brilliant.’
She throws her left hand in an arc in front of her face and snaps her fingers. ‘Tell me something new,‘ she sings with a grin. She pulls out a pearl choker and a matching pearl bracelet and puts them aside. ‘You will be putting your hair up, won’t you?’
‘Well …’
‘Here. This will make it easy for you.’ She passes me a pearl pin. ‘Put your hair into a simple bun at the nape of your neck and stick this in anywhere. Can’t go wrong.’
‘Thanks,’ I say taking the pin from her.
‘Now shoes. The thing about vintage dresses is never to pair them with vintage style shoes. You’ll look like you’re going to a fancy dress party. What’s the time now?’
I look at my watch. ‘Nearly three.’
‘I know the perfect pair. They are to die for. Very, very high, in pewter with silver heels and a velvet trim all the way around. The curving straps in the front are held by tiny silver buttons. They’re a work of art. I’ll go pick them up now and drop them off before four. How’s that?’
‘Awesome.’
Then she helps me carry the coat, dress, and the accessories to the house before she leaves.
Fifteen
Dahlia Fury
-Ask for money and get advice-
As I glide down the stairs in the most beautiful dress I have ever worn, my pearls, my expensive coat over my arm, and my fantastically fabulous new shoes (I’ve already ordered a pair in Stella’s size), Noah appears at the bottom. His black eyes run down my body quickly and professionally, as if I’m a room he’s checking out for trouble.
He frowns. ‘You’re early. Wait in the White Room for Boss. He’ll be about fifteen minutes.’
‘OK,’ I say easily.
He nods and disappears down the corridor towards the kitchen.
I head towards the
living room, open the door and peek inside. It’s empty. I close the door and move towards the music station. I press play and classical music fills the room. I have never really listened to classical music, but this piece is really beautiful and I’m standing there listening to it when the door opens and a man enters. He’s quite tall, very pale and probably in his forties. He is wearing a sharp suit.
‘Oh,’ he says when he sees me. He seems surprised. ‘I’m sorry. I’m looking for Zane. I was told he’d be here.’ His accent is from the rough end of London and there is something mean in his lean face, but his tone is polite.
‘He’ll be down soon,’ I say.
He shifts uncomfortably. ‘Maybe I should wait outside.’
‘It’s OK. You can wait here,’ I say. I’m not one to quickly judge people, although I have to be honest, I don’t like him one bit. There is something about him that makes my skin crawl.
He grins suddenly, a smarmy, sly lift to his lips. ‘Are you Zane’s new … girl?’
There are a multitude of insults in that slight pause. I straighten my spine. God, sometimes you try to be nice to someone and they fucking stab you in the head.
I’m saved from answering by the door being thrown open. Zane is standing in the doorway. He seems massive compared to his guest and his body language is like nothing I have ever seen. His eyes are like sparks in his thunderous face and his scar looks livid. He is not looking at me. His entire attention is on the man who entered the room.
‘What the fuck are you doing here, Lenny?’ he rasps.
The man seems to have been caught off guard. For a few seconds he stares silently at Zane then the man who seemed so sly and knowing only moments ago goes on the defensive. At that moment I know who the lion in this jungle is.
‘Noah asked me to come in here and wait for you,’ he blurts out.
Zane strides into the room. ‘Next time you come into a room and you see her, you turn around immediately and fucking walk out, do you understand?’
‘I understand. I’m really sorry. I’m out of line, but it was an honest mistake. I didn’t do nothing, anyway. I just said hello, you know, to be polite to your lady. I’m sorry, OK,’ Lenny says, slippery and so obviously disingenuous.
I know I’ve gone completely still with shock at the pure aggression in Zane, but I am also aware that Lenny is not to blame. Even though I don’t like him, and right now he looks like a wriggling, slimy worm, it is not his fault. I asked him to stay. Besides, it occurs to me too that I’m probably in the wrong room. I assumed this was the white room because I met Molly here and I’d been told to wait in the same room.
‘It’s my fault,’ I say, hoping to change the air of menace in the room. ‘I told him he could wait for you here.’
Zane turns his eyes on me and they are blazing with fury. ‘Who the fuck gave you permission to talk?’ he snarls.
I take an involuntary step back. I have never been spoken to like that by anybody. My first reaction is one of pure fury. A kind I have never experienced before. I am so livid with him I start trembling.
‘I’ll come back tomorrow,’ Lenny mumbles, and slips out of the door as fast as his legs will carry him.
As soon as we are alone I lose my shit. This, as far as I am concerned, is the last straw. I’m out of here. I’ve had enough. I didn’t sign up for this bullshit. The deal was he doesn’t do anything I don’t like, or the deal is off. He just did something I detest. I absolutely will not allow him or any other man to talk to me like that. No matter how hungry my body is for him, I simply won’t allow such abuse. Maybe I’m not built to be someone’s sex toy. I’m too independent and free-spirited to be anybody else’s sidekick. He can go find himself another pliable sex toy to bully.
‘You’re an arrogant bastard, Zane. How dare you speak to me like that in front of other people?’ I fume, striding towards the door.
He stands in my way, magnificent and menacing. ‘I’ll speak to you how I like. I own you.’
I gasp. ‘Well, I’ve got news for you. You don’t own me.’
‘Yes, I fucking do,’ he snarls. His arm shoots out and he yanks me to him.
My new shoes lift off the ground and my body slams into his, knocking all the wind from my lungs. Stunned, I stare up into his furious face. There is a muscle ticking at the side of his jaw. His eyes are impenetrable as his head swoops down, and his lips crush mine in an angry kiss.
His mouth is hot and wild.
Intoxicated, I open my mouth and emit a low moan. His tongue forces its way in instantly. The kiss is my salvation and my torment. It’s more than anything I could have imagined. It’s magic; like when I sat on a hill right in the middle of a summer storm and saw lightning crash through the sky and felt it in my veins.
He draws my tongue into his mouth and sucks on it. I feel as if I’m floating on air. No matter what happens after this, I know I will carry the memory of this first kiss for the rest of my life. I will die with it still on my lips.
Like an addict, my arms reach up and tangle helplessly around his strong neck. I feel the hardness of his shaft press into my belly.
He pulls away. My head swims as I lean away to take in his face, contorted with lust, hunger, possession and feral ownership. We stare at each other, both of us breathing hard. For that time his mouth was on mine the world itself ceased to turn on its axis, or even exist. Never in a billion years did I expect it to be like this between us. It is absolutely, unquestionably awesome. Every fiber of my being just aches for him.
‘You wanted to see me lose control? Now you’ve seen it,’ he says tightly.
I shake my head. My anger in shreds. I have no words.
A bitter half-smile crosses his face. ‘Not a pretty picture, huh?’
I stare up at him with wide eyes, exploring and learning. There is so much to know and so little time. A deep angry flush colors his face and his eyes are molten with angry emotions, but it only makes him even more impossibly sexy and attractive. ‘You shouldn’t talk to me like that in front of people,’ I whisper.
His face is hard and unapologetic. ‘You shouldn’t disrespect me in front of my business associates.’
‘I didn’t.’
‘My world is a ruthless one, Dahlia. Let someone think you’re soft for a bit of pussy, and you’re signing your own death warrant.’
The thought makes my blood curdle. ‘I didn’t think of it like that.’
‘You have nothing to do with my businesses. The less you know the better. Don’t make yourself valuable to my enemies. I wouldn’t trade your innocent life for my worthless one.’
Still dazed, I nod. He called his life worthless!
‘Good,’ he says softly.
He walks me backwards in a hard, rough tango, and twirling me around, bends me face down on a sofa back. My elbows are pressed into the cushion of the seat and the hard wooden frame of the sofa digs into my midriff. I can smell the sprays the cleaners have used on the upholstery. He flips my dress over my back and I feel his eyes on my naked ass and splayed legs.
I hear him draw his breath in harshly. He lays his palm on one cheek and strokes it gently. God, I’m so wet. In the silence of the room I hear the sound of a zip tearing open in a hurry, and the whisper of his clothes being roughly pushed aside.
I shiver as he grasps my hair and pulls my head up. I pant as he leans down and drags his fiery mouth from the base of my ear all the way down to my collarbone. He even licks the pearl choker.
‘What does it feel like to be so beautiful, so fucking tempting that men are helpless to resist you?’ he mutters.
I don’t answer him and he yanks at my hair. ‘Tell me, my little cock tease, what does it feel like to swan around knowing your hot, little pussy is driving me crazy?’ he asks.
My mouth hangs open, my breaths come so fast and hard they sound louder than his voice. ‘I don’t believe for a minute that you are helpless to resist me,’ I pant.
‘No? Then tell me why I’ve been dying to lick your
pussy all day.’
‘You have?’ I ask incredulously.
‘All fucking day.’ His hand pulls my zip down to my waist and slips into my dress to roll my nipple between his fingers. The sensation is immediate and electric.
He pinches my nipple. I whimper with the mixture of pain and pleasure and feel that undeniable aching, festering insistence between my legs. My thighs tremble with excitement and anticipation.
‘P … please,’ I groan, almost in tears with need. ‘Don’t tease me.’
‘Have you been thinking of my cock inside you, little fox? In your mouth, in your tight pussy and your hot ass.’
I make an incoherent sound.
‘Tell me what you want,’ he urges, his breath steamy.
‘I want you to fuck me. Hard.’
His erection rubs my naked ass, hard and angry. ‘Where?’ he asks.
‘Every fucking where,’ I cry in frustration.
He slips a finger into me. A strangled sound escapes my throat. I feel like I am gasoline about to combust.
‘And why do you want that?’ he asks softly.
‘Because you own me,’ I groan.
‘That’s right. Every. Fucking. Inch. Tell me all this is mine.’
‘It’s all yours. Every last inch.’
He strokes my ass.
I’m not proud of it, but I swear at him with frustration.
‘Fuck it, Zane. Take me now.’
I feel like an animal. An animal in heat. He hefts my hips and rubs the head of his cock up and down my slick folds, coating it in my juices. Goosebumps rise along my skin as I feel his cock force itself between my swollen lips, stretching me tight around his thickness. My hands dig into the sofa. Jesus, his erection feels as hard as stone.
‘Oh, God, yes,’ I groan as that smooth shaft slowly spears my body until he jams his full length deep into my pussy. ‘Yes. Just like that,’ I moan, gripping the hell out of his massive dick. ‘Exactly like that.’
No longer gentle, he becomes exactly what I’ve always wanted. A rough god. He rams into me, his need overpowering, irresistible, savage, driving his cock deeper and deeper. With every thrust my juices spurt around his cock and soak my thighs. My muscles feel like beaten butter. My sobs and moans echo through the room and my body thrashes over the sofa as his entire cock goes in and out of me.
You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 1) Page 10
