Possessive Russian: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 79)

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Possessive Russian: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 79) Page 1

by Flora Ferrari




  POSSESSIVE RUSSIAN

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 79

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series

  Possessive Russian

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Series

  Newsletter

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2018 by Flora Ferrari.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  Book 1: Baby Lust

  Book 2: Veteran

  Book 3: Built

  Book 4: Bambino

  Book 5: Rescued

  Book 6: Leader

  Book 7: Professor

  Book 8: Burned

  Book 9: Worldly

  Book 10: Pistol

  Book 11: Policed

  Book 12: Driven

  Book 13: Lucky 13

  Book 14: Lumberjacked

  Book 15: Protector

  Book 16: Carpenter

  Book 17: Italian Stallion

  Book 18: Gardener

  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin

  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 21: Cocky CFO

  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th

  Book 23: Mechanic

  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret

  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch

  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina

  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy

  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol

  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess

  Book 32: Statham

  Book 33: Bodyguard

  Book 34: Greek God

  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter

  Book 36: Mountain Man

  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice

  Book 38: Royal Romance

  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery

  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D

  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby

  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby

  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter

  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door

  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace

  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny

  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter

  Book 49: Steamy

  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend

  Book 51: Possessive Professor

  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter

  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby

  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day

  Book 55: Doctor Next Door

  Book 56: Possessive Policeman

  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter

  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter

  Book 59: Virgin in New York

  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby

  Book 61: Possessive Protector

  Book 62: Possessive Australian

  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother

  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy

  Book 65: Summer Romanced

  Book 66: Possessive Prince

  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy

  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend

  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter

  Book 70: Football Next Door

  Book 71: Doctor December

  Book 72: Possessive Canadian

  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire

  Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop

  Book 75: Possessive Brazilian

  Book 76: Hockey Obsession

  Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter

  Book 78: Halloween Next Door

  Book 79: Possessive Russian

  Book 80: Baseball Mine

  POSSESSIVE RUSSIAN

  This possessive Russian isn’t just my dad’s best friend…he’s an inked alpha male.

  And the first time I see him is the first time I’ve ever seen someone carry out such violence right in front of my very eyes.

  I should get on the next plane out of here immediately, but why does this inked alpha male’s violence have me thinking it’s time for another kind of first time with this older man who is very apparently my new possessive Russian protector?

  As an inked introvert and younger woman I always felt misunderstood, but suddenly I’m the one who doesn’t understand why I’m falling for my dad’s best friend…the older man with all the answers to questions I didn’t even realize I had.

  But what happens when I have a question of my own and his answer challenges me to question everything I thought I knew to be true?

  Will our feelings continue to blossom like flowers in May, or will my heart turn as cold as December in Russia?

  *Possessive Russian is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

  NEWSLETTER

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  CHAPTER 1

  Alice

  “It’s like a different world down here,” I say as I slowly spin around taking in the Avtovo metro station in Saint Petersburg, Russia.

  I’m supposed to be keeping my eyes peeled for my dad’s best friend, but instead all I care about right now is taking in this incredible work of art.

  It may be a subway stop but it feels more like a palace.

  I open up my guidebook and reread the passage. “Yep. Forty-six columns and thirty are made from marble and sixteen are decorated with glass just like the guidebook says,” I say just after I count them off by pointing to each one with my finger. And there are chandeliers galore. It’s not hard to see why The Guardian British daily newspaper named it one of the twelve most beautiful metro stations in the world.

  At the end of the platform I see a large mosaic mural depicting a woman holding a child. This is where the first train departed way back in 1955 which put the Saint Petersburg metro into existence as the second operational subway in the country, after M
oscow.

  And that’s where my dad’s buddy is supposed to meet me at this exact moment.

  I make a mental note to come back and check out this metro station during my five day stay here in Saint Petersburg before I fly back home to Miami as I make my way towards the mural.

  Suddenly I feel a large body bump into me almost knocking me over, but instead of an apology or a check to see if I’m okay I feel the hands of the man who just slammed into me wrap around me and push me towards the waiting metro car which has it’s doors open as the conductor seems to be making an announcement that the train is about to depart.

  What’s going on?

  And then just as suddenly as the hands wrapped around me they come flying off as I feel my body spin around halfway just before I hear an “uh” and turn to see a man crumple to the ground face first with a loud thud right next to one of the massive columns.

  “This way, Alice. We don’t want to be late for dinner,” a man in a black suit says as he wraps his arm around mine leading me towards the escalator before I can even process what in the hell just happened.

  CHAPTER 2

  Alice

  “This is for your father,” the man says, handing me a small USB thumb drive. “And this is for you,” he says handing me a set of Russian nesting dolls.

  “What just happened back there? Where are you taking me? Tell me now or I will scream,” I demand.

  “Someone wanted to get their hands on the item your father sent you here to receive. I stopped them from doing that. Now we will have dinner,” he says matter-of-factly like he’s a telemarketer reading from a script for the thousandth time today.

  He’s completely devoid of emotion as his eyes face forward with a glassy stare that reveals nothing.

  I quickly look him up and down noticing how well he fills out his suit, and wonder what the tattoo on his hand would reveal if I had any idea what it meant.

  It’s hard to tell with tattoos these days. Twenty years ago they were still an obscure item that weren’t safe to have if you wanted a white-collar job or a loan from a bank. These days it seems like every hipster in South Beach has at least three.

  And I have one myself. Maybe it’s because my dad seemed more interested in shouting into his phone in Russian than raising his only daughter. His idea of parenting was sticking me in front of the TV with a remote control in my hand.

  And somehow I managed to click my way to Miami Ink’s debut episode in 2005 when I was five. I was just a kid, but I was fascinated for all six seasons until the show went off the air.

  I became addicted to art and ink and found myself watching Eastern Promises every week for years. That film was like an addictive elixir of both the dark underworld of my Russian heritage mixed with how the tattoos on your body tell your entire life story in Russian prisons.

  That led me to Russian Criminal Tattoo Encyclopaedia Volumes I, II, and III, Russian Criminal Tattoo Police Files by Arkady Bronnikov, who is regarded as Russia's leading expert on tattoo iconography and was also a senior expert in forensics at the USSR Ministry of Internal Affairs for more than 30 years.

  But when I look at the tattoo on this alpha bad boy’s hand I have no idea what it means.

  And that scares and excites me all at the same time.

  My dad does “good deals with bad guys” as he likes to say, so it’s no surprise that I’d meet a character like this one who’s either leading me to safety, or to a quick death.

  And just because my dad practically keeps me locked up around the clock at our estate in Miami, doesn’t mean I’m some sheltered kid who’s in need of an adventure.

  But an adventure sure has come knocking in the form of this six foot five man who looks about as thick as the bronze statues I saw at Saint Petersburg’s Pulkovo Airport when I arrived just a couple hours ago.

  “You are?” I ask.

  “Artem. Your father’s best friend,” he says.

  “What if I’m not hungry?” I ask.

  “Have you ever had Russian borsch?”

  “Yeah, they have a place back home,” I say, still not sure what this guy is all about but I’m very interested in finding out.

  “Please. Do not insult my country or my hospitality. If you have not tasted it inside Russia then you have never tried it.”

  It takes everything I have not to laugh out loud, partly because his deadpan answers that are about as lacking in contractions as they are in length remind me of the bad Russian guys in so many movies. Artem’s not doing much to dispel that myth.

  But the real reason my first reaction is to laugh is fear.

  He is big, well dressed, stoic, and powerful as I just saw in the metro.

  “Russia can be dangerous place,” he says, his accent thickening. Apparently he’s not a fan of indefinite articles either. “But not when I am near.”

  “Does this restaurant also have vodka?” I ask.

  “Do you know what vodka mean in Slavic language?”

  I shake my head.

  “Little water.” He pauses. “And yes. The have a lot of little water.”

  “Good, because I have a feeling that I’m going to need it,” I say.

  CHAPTER 3

  Artem

  The plan was simple and I executed it to perfection.

  Find my best friend’s daughter, give her the USB drive, and take her to safety.

  Mission complete.

  Not hardly.

  Because now I have a new mission that wasn’t part of the original plan.

  Make her mine.

  In the most famous country for beautiful women, she stands head and shoulders above all the rest.

  I’ve never seen a woman so beautiful in all my life.

  She is the perfect mix of Slavic beauty, manners, and culture with this free way of Western living. A beautiful Russian girl with a South Beach tan.

  And she’s not so tall either, which makes her even that much more feminine.

  And damn did I make her nervous. She was on edge and it had my cock pushing my trousers to the edge of their stretching point.

  I replay the events in my mind again.

  She was there with her guidebook, an obvious tourist.

  And what was also obvious is her beauty.

  Her jet-black hair. Her creamy brown skin. Her dark eyes as she moved towards the end of the metro station to receive the USB stick.

  But suddenly there’s another stick I want to give her and the fucker springs to life at the most inopportune time ever.

  And then came a threat from the side. A fool thinking he could put his hands on what’s mine.

  It was the worst mistake of his life, and cost him his last breath of air.

  But I feel no remorse. One because that’s not how you treat a woman. What happened to the days when the bad guys had honor…a code?

  Scum like him take our business and drag it through the gutter, so now someone can drag his body out of that cold underground and put him right back under ground…six feet.

  I knew there would be retaliation. I just didn’t know it would come so soon.

  I thought I had time to get her out first. To make her safe. And once I saw her to make her mine.

  And when I took her arm in mine I could feel her thin frame. There are those Slavic genes again at work, but this is something even more than that.

  She won the genetic lottery and I will win her.

  Fuck that. She has no choice. She will be mine, because I have no choice.

  This is primal and even though she’s my best friend’s daughter I can’t say no to myself. I won’t be able to.

  But my intentions are real.

  Just like those ample breasts that fill out her top perfectly. Damn, when she leaned into me I could feel their shape and I wanted to spin her around and grab them right then and there. To rip her top open and by the time those buttons went flying everywhere I’d already have my lips wrapped around her nipple.

  Usually when a human goes on a moving object like
an elevator or escalator they bend their knees a bit subconsciously to improve their balance.

  I do it too. But not with her.

  I could feel my body more erect, standing taller than I normally do…and damn I’m tall already.

  But there was a shot of pride that tore through me with her there on my arm. I’ve done a lot of masculine things in my life and I’ve been told I’m a throwback to a different kind of man, a real man, but damn with her on my arm I feel even more masculine than ever before.

  I felt my eyes narrow as I stared ahead, conflicted by the idea that she was really having this effect on me…and that I was only here because of my best friend. I tried to stay focused, but damn I just couldn’t no matter how hard I tried.

  I sat in a sniper’s nest during the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991. I was up there for a damn week. I drank water through a straw while I laid in the prone position until I had spots on my skin. I even had to relieve myself up there, or risk certain death from the mayhem below.

 

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