Fifty Shades of Fairy Tales Omnibus (31 page)

“
Thank you, Lucy.” I leaned forward to hug her and place a grateful peck on her cheek. “For everything.”

She squeezed my hand tight, returned the affectionate peck. “Go have a wonderful time. Be Cinderella for a night. You deserve it.”

As I carefully picked my way down the front steps, wearing a pair of two inch heels so I wouldn’t break my neck, the driver exited the limo and opened the passengers door. Dmitri stepped out, looking like a fabled god carved from marble. His charcoal, tailored suit clung to the lines of his sculpted body. I felt like an ill dressed frump in comparison.

“
My dear,” he said, as he took my hand and guided me into the vehicle. “You look stunning.”

I figured he was just being polite. How could I look stunning in a six year old prom dress and makeup borrowed from Lucy? I thanked him then sat with my hands folded in my lap, like a terrified schoolgirl, while he got in beside me. The driver shut the door, closed a smoky window that divided front from back, and we slipped away from the curb.

His hand enveloped my knee and he drew closer, until the side of his body pressed tight against mine. “I’m sorry I had to cut our time together short yesterday.” His fingers moved higher, swirling circles over the silky fabric covering my thigh. “Should we pick up where we left off?”

Before I had a chance to reply, he turned my face to his and claimed my lips again. The feeling he stirred in my mouth zipped right to my groin, bringing the tingle he’d sparked the day before back to life.

“
Oh, Mr. Nich--I mean, Dmitri.” I gasped when his lips moved from mine and he licked the soft flesh of my neck, then he trailed the tip of his tongue over my collarbone. “This feels so good.” And it did. Even Doug, though I missed him terribly, hadn’t been able to elicit such an instant, lusty response from me.

“
You feel like paradise,” he murmured, as he pushed my dress up over my thighs, then higher still, until the thin material pooled around my waist. “I knew you would. And you taste divine, too.”

***

Surrender Series Volume 1: Surrender Forever

Surrender Forever is a four part series that tells the story of Charlotte Hanson’s experience as sex mistress to Russian billionaire Dmitri Nichvalodov. From mistress to lover to promises of more. What goes on inside Surrender Inc. will shock and thrill you!

Surrender To A Sex Therapist (Surrender Series Part 1) by Anita Lawless

Charlotte Hanson loves her new job as secretary to a prominent sex therapist, Dmitri Nichvalodov, who also happens to come from old money. This Russian billionaire isn’t hard on the eyes either, and he prefers to live a simple life doing a job he loves. At least, that’s what Charlotte thinks, until he proposes she become his sex mistress. Now the contract is on the table, and the money offered would help care for her ailing father. Will she sign the papers and surrender?

Surrender To Her Master (Surrender Series Part 2) by Anita Lawless

Charlotte Hanson has accepted a job as sex mistress to Russian billionaire Dmitri Nichvalodov, and now her first week in this new position begins. After setting her father up in an expensive senior care home, Dmitri takes Charlotte shopping for lingerie. Then he introduces her to Japanese bondage art known as Shibari, or Kinbaku, and she becomes his living sculpture of rope and bliss.

Surrender To His Desires (Surrender Series Part 3) by Anita Lawless

Charlotte Hanson has taken a job as sex mistress to Russian billionaire Dmitri Nichvaldov. Tonight he’s going to introduce her to playtime inside the Surrender Sanctuary, an elite resort where the owners of Surrender Inc., a sex resort franchise, come to engage in sex games. But there are a few surprises in store for Dmitri and Charlotte, particularly when someone from Dmitri’s past shows up at the end of their show.

Surrender To His Charms (Surrender Series Part 4) by Anita Lawless

The erotic, engrossing conclusion to the Surrender series. Charlotte Hanson has taken a job as sex mistress to Russian billionaire Dmitri Nichvaldov. After her first performance inside the Sanctuary sex resort, fists fly in a altercation between Dmitri and his brother Yuri. The Russian billionaire comes clean with her about his manipulative sibling and the woman Yuri stole from him. Charlotte wonders if she can ever possess Dmitri’s heart, or will this former love, and his brother’s cruelty, always haunt him? Charlotte also explores her dominant side.

Surrender Forever (The Complete Surrender Series Volume 1)

Surrender Forever, the complete series, includes all four stories of Charlotte Hanson’s experience as sex mistress to Russian billionaire Dmitri Nichvalodov. From mistress to lover to promises of more. Bonus story introduces Millie Monroe, the reluctant femdom, and her virgin submissive, Ryan. What goes on inside Surrender Inc. will shock and thrill you!

***

Read an excerpt from a sizzling new Wild & Lawless release
Surrender To His Proposal (Surrender Series Volume 2, Part 1)
by Anita Lawless & Roxxy Meyer

Surrender To His Proposal

By Anita Lawless & Roxxy Meyer

The roof is beyond leaking. If I don’t get someone in soon, the entire attic might become a swimming pool.

“
I can fix it for you,” Jake says, and he notices my discomfort at his words, because he quickly adds, “Or I know someone who can do it cheap.”

Pride. I shake my head at myself, knowing pride is going to kill me one day. And a woman can’t be full of pride when she has two boys to raise and bills she can’t pay piling up.

“
Carrie.” Jake leans across the arborite table I picked up at a flea market and squeezes my hand. “Let me help you.”

I smile at his boyish face, those cute dimples in his cheeks. “You’ve already helped me by renting part of this place, and doing the fixing up you’ve already done.”

Jake Black rents the apartment above the garage attached to my old two story Cape Cod home. I inherited the place from my mom when she passed on, and it was a lifesaver, since my husband of fifteen years picked that time--right after my mother’s funeral--to leave me with two boys to raise. Preston and Michael are eight and twelve.

Jake is undeniably handsome. He’s got a mix of boyish good looks and rugged male, with his bright green eyes and rounded face, work roughened hands from days spent as a carpenter, and a five o’ clock shadow that’s just as red as the hair on his head. But we aren’t together. I’m just not ready for that yet. It’s only been six months since I lost mom and went through the divorce.

That being said, there have been hot kisses and much more, but we haven’t had sex yet. I don’t want to lead Jake on, or confuse my own currently messed up head and heart. Still, when he moved in here to help me and the kids out, it was a blessing I was entirely grateful for.

“
There’s a lot more I could do for you,” he says, standing to walk behind my chair and feather a few kisses up my neck.

I try to make a quip about this. “Two redheads shouldn’t sleep together. The results could be catastrophic.” His tiny kisses make me shiver.

Just at that moment, my boys decide to run into the kitchen. Preston, my youngest, holds a paper in his hand and his eyes are wide. “Mom, can I please sign up for hockey this year?”

I don’t know what to say to that sweet, freckled face. His brown, puppy-like eyes beseech, but we simply can’t afford it. Not ready to break his heart, I say, “We’ll see, hon.”

He prunes his face and makes a minor protest, but Jake distracts them both with the proposition of some two on one road hockey, out in the dirt alley that runs between our place and Mrs. Granger’s. I’m thankful for the time this gives me to think.

And that’s when I see it. An ad in the employment opportunities section catches my attention. I already work on an assembly line building slot machines for a living, but that wage barely covers the bills. It sure won’t fix the roof and the other repairs this old home needs, and it won’t cover hockey fees for Preston either.

But the job notice I stare at, the amount indicated, certainly would. So long as the hours don’t conflict with my other work, I could take this, should I get it, and finally get this house spruced up, give my kids some money for recreational activities that they’ve been dying to join.

The notice says: Woman between 20 - 35 needed to test innovative new designer products. Must have an open mind and a healthy attitude toward sex. Apply in person with resume at Suite 001-353 Bloominfield Blvd.

And the monthly income it cites makes my eyes widen. I can do this, I think. I’ve got an open mind and a healthy attitude toward sex. For the income offered, I’ll dance naked on tabletops at this point.

But when I show the ad to Jake after I join him and the boys outside, he gently takes my arm, gives me a concerned expression, and ushers me to the side of the house.

“
Are you crazy, Carrie?” He looks angry as well as concerned. “This could be a setup. You could get raped or killed.”

I shake my head at his protest, cross my arms over the front of my spring cardigan. “I’ll be fine.” When he frowns deeper, I put an arm around his shoulder and give him a reassuring squeeze. Close to his ear, I whisper, “I’ll take protection with me, and I’ll text you as soon as I get to the place and once I meet the interviewer to let you know I’m safe. How’s that?” I’m registered to carry a handgun, and I’m a very good shot, too. Years of target practice with my dad, now also passed on, gave me an eagle eye and aim.

“
You should let me come with you,” Jake says, still wearing that deep frown that barely crinkles his smooth, pale face.

“
Someone has to take care of the kids,” I protest, feeling a bit guilty for asking his to be a last minute babysitter yet again. “I’ll pay you.”

He shakes his head at me, then a smile spreads, bringing out his adorable dimples. “You don’t have to pay me for watching the kids. Don’t even think about it.” Then he wraps his arm tighter around my shoulder, swipes a quick kiss over my lips before saying, “Please be careful.”

I swat at him playfully. “Don’t mother me, for cripes sake. I’ll be fine.” Then I quickly give him another kiss before adding, “Thanks for watching the kids again.”

***

A few days later, I’m up way before the kids and Jake, showered, and dressed before they even stomp down the stairs for breakfast. Jake protests, saying I should’ve let him help me with the bacon and eggs. I wave him off to ask if I look presentable for my upcoming interview.

His green eyes shine. “You look beautiful.”

The kids make silly noises at this, and Michael asks when me and Jake are getting married, with a cheeky grin spread across his face. I tell him to eat his bacon and mind his business. He just laughs. He gets his precocious streak from me, I admit. His brother just grins a lopsided grin and chows down on his eggs.

Now sitting in my beat up old Pontiac Sunfire, I take a last minute to inspect myself before I drive off. I’m wearing my best dress--one of my only dresses, now I’m on a tight budget. A spring knee-length number in pink with tiny white polka dots spotting the thin material. I’ve put on my Aunt Peg’s pearls for good luck and pinned up my fiery red hair in a neat, simple chignon. Applied a bit of makeup to my cheeks, a wisp of shadow to enhance my blue eyes, and a tint of pink lip gloss to my lips. I frown at my reflection, worried that I look more like June Cleaver than someone with an open mind and a healthy attitude toward sex.

“
Oh well.” I tell my worrisome self. “It’ll have to do.”

***

The building at 353 Bloominfield Blvd used to be an old brownstone, but it’s been recently converted into office space. I approach a man with a pleasant smile and a bulldog face to ask him where exactly Suite 001 is. But first I send Jake a text to let him know all looks good so far.

His face blanches and he raises an eyebrow. “Why does a respectable looking lady like you want Suite 001?”

I play with my pearls and almost consider telling him I’ve made a mistake. I contemplate this and leaving, but the dollar amount in the ad flashes in my mind again. “I’m here about the job advertised.” I point to the classified I’ve circled with yellow highlighter.

His bushy eyebrows climb higher. He clears his throat and straightens his navy blue uniform coat. “Lady, that job is not for you.”

Now I’m getting just a little miffed. No one tells Carrie Brannigan what to do. And when someone tells me no, I just get all the more determined. “I think I’ll be the judge of that, thank you. Now, if you don’t mind?”

With a disapproving scowl, he directs me to an elevator with ugly orange doors.
Someone really needs to paint that
, I think.

“
Basement,” the security guard says, and as the doors close he adds, “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

“
Not exactly a confidence booster,” I mumble to myself before I hit the button indicating lower levels.

When the elevator slides open, I find myself in a drab, narrow grey hallway lined with white doors with gold numbers and keycard slots on each one. I locate Suite 001 and ring a doorbell situated near the keycard slot. A brief moment passes before someone swings it open.

The man standing before me has an aura of danger and mystery that instantly puts me on guard. “Hello,” he says, letting his thick, pouty lips curl in a sensuous smile full of lecherous intent. I detect a slight British accent. Then he steps back from the threshold, still not inviting me in as he gives me a bold up and down perusal while stroking his trimmed goatee. “Yes… as long as you’re not as good a girl as you look, I think you’ll do quite nicely. Come in.”

He takes my hand and I feel an instant spark. I study his face briefly as he leads me into the room. His eyes are ice blue, like slivers cut from a glacier, and set wide apart, which gives him a deceptively innocent look. His nose is wide at the nostrils, tapered as it moves toward the bridge, and his cheekbones are not too defined but still prominent. He reminds me of a man found in paintings of old world nobility. He’s slender and not much taller than my 5 ft. 6. With my curves and heavy breasts, I feel fat next to his proud figure with spiked hair that isn’t quite sure if it’s meant to be brown or golden blond.