You Don't Know Me

By: Georgia Le Carre

‘Of course, I knew that, but you approved her design.’

‘When I buy a dog I tend not to bark myself.’

She laughs again, but this time it is for real. A lovely sound. It’s the way I thought she might sound. Rich, sexy, and exhilarating. ‘I just expected more black leather and chrome somehow.’ She stops and shrugs. ‘I mean being bratva and all.’

‘I’m not in the brotherhood anymore,’ I say quietly.

She cocks an eyebrow. ‘Oh, since when?’

‘Years,’ I say simply.

‘So you just walked away from it?’ she asks curiously.

‘You never walk away from it. It walks beside you.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Your sins, every one of them, they never leave you, no matter how far you run, or how long you live.’

She stares at me.

‘But you didn’t come here to talk about my sins.’

She doesn’t say anything so I move to the drinks cabinet and pour us each a large measure of cognac. She takes hers from my hand and raises it.

‘To tonight,’ she says.

‘Tonight,’ I reply and we both drink.

To my surprise she knocks it back as fast as me. She is so beautiful she makes my cock weep. I want to tear the clothes off her, but she will need to go home in them before the sun rises again. The thought doesn’t sit well. I already dread having to let her go tomorrow. Once I possess her …

She reaches out a hand and unbuttons my shirt, exposing my chest. Her pale finger, the nail painted pearly pink, traces the tattoo of a roaring tiger on my chest.

‘Oskal (bared teeth) You were a thief,’ she breathes.

I don’t say anything. My tattoos tell their own tale of bloodshed, violence, and the unspoken moral code of my past. My time of treading a fine line between life and death. The punishment for getting a tattoo you have not earned is severe so they work as my CV, and being the daughter of a mafia king she can read each letter and design like a language.

She undoes the rest of the buttons on my shirt, pulls the shirttails out, and slips it off me. I watch her eyes hungrily take in the width of me, before her eyes alight on the tattoo of an epaulette inked onto my right shoulder.

‘High ranking,’ she whispers.

She rises to her tiptoes and kisses me right on the skull in the middle of the epaulette. It is a gesture of approval. She knows it signifies that I am not, or will ever be a slave to anyone.

I stand as still as a statue when she touches the rose. So many memories come crowding back. No other woman has touched it quite the same way. It is Delilah holding Samson’s hair.

‘You spent your eighteenth birthday in prison,’ she notes. Her voice grave.

Then her finger delicately trails the blade of a dagger. ‘You have taken life.’ She touches the drops of blood as she counts aloud the lives I have taken. ‘One, two, three, four …’ There are more drops, but she doesn’t go on. She looks up at me, our gazes touch, and she exhales a long breath. It sounds like regret or pain.

She walks around the back and looks at the massive tattoo of the Madonna and Child surrounded by saints and angels. In the background a cathedral. It is a thieves’ talisman. I know I am a sinner but protect me, guide me, bring me luck.

‘So … you were a thief from an early age,’ she deciphers. I feel her breath warm on my back.

‘Fifteen,’ I say quietly.

‘Mmmm.’ She lays her palm on my back and I close my eyes at the incredible softness of her skin.

She reads aloud the Russian words. Oh Lord, forgive me for the tears of my mother.

I twist around and grab her wrist. ‘That’s enough.’

Something flashes in her eyes, but it’s not fear.

‘So now you know all about me,’ I say. ‘What is there to know about Tasha Evanoff?’

‘There is only one thing you need to know about me. Tonight I am yours.’

‘Let me see what is mine tonight, then,’ I say.

Pink rushes up her neck and cheeks. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and holds her empty glass out to me. I take it from her and she steps out of her shoes. How cute. No other woman I know would dream of taking her shoes off first. Every one of them is sophisticated enough to know a naked woman wearing nothing but her high heels is the ultimate sexual turn on.

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