Russian Next Door Read online

  RUSSIAN NEXT DOOR

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 100

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series

  Russian Next Door

  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

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Series

  Newsletter

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2019 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

  Book 81: Cop’s Caribbean Captive

  Book 82: Instalove Island

  Book 83: Dad’s Best Friend

  Book 84: Thanksgiving with Dad’s Boss

  Book 85: Possessive Italian Neighbor

  Book 86: Possessive Portuguese

  Book 87: Possessive Christmas Cop

  Book 88: Russian’s Obsession

  Book 89: Possessive Doctor’s Christmas

  Book 90: Possessive Parisian Pilot

  Book 91: U.K. Boxing Day

  Book 92: Jealous Russian Stalker

  Book 93: Italian Mountain Man

  Book 94: Aggressive Russian

  Book 95: Possessive Valentine

  Book 96: Possessive Hunter

  Book 97: Dad’s Russian Mafia Friend

  Book 98: Russian Teacher

  Book 99: Australian Obsession

  Book 100: Russian Next Door

  Book 101: Dad’s Irish Friend

  RUSSIAN NEXT DOOR

  I binge watched The Americans.

  I saw what happened with the last election.

  I even read McMafia and streamed the BBC TV show of the same name.

  I thought it wasn’t all that real…until it happened to me.

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

  NEWSLETTER

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  CHAPTER 1

  Vasily

  I freeze mid-step, my hand still running a towel through my hair as I stare out the window of my second floor master bedroom.

  My jaw clenches and every muscle in my body tightens at the sight of her.

  That’s my new neighbor?

  She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and coming from a country known for its beautiful women that’s saying a lot.

  I watch her, her body turned to the side as she slides into a pair of panties and then searches through her dresser drawers for something else.

  Stop. No more clothes. You should be taking them off, not putting them on.

  The amber light from a single bulb lamp illuminates her perfectly. The way the yellow hues light up her skin has my dick hardening instantly.

  I will claim her. I will make her mine.

  She has one of those extremely thin curtains pulled, the ones that are as thin as possible. I can see everything, but I don’t just want to see, I want to be.

  There.

  Next to her. With her. Rolling around on that bed, or better yet our bodies ricochetin
g through her house, bouncing off the walls, as primal need takes over.

  I’ve never felt a need like this in my entire life. Never.

  There’s something about her. The way she moves. The simplicity of it all.

  She’s just out of the shower too. Even from here I can see her skin is glowing, radiating, and her hair is wrapped up in a towel.

  What color is it? I have to know.

  My eyes follow her long swanlike neck to her collarbone as she continues searching for something.

  A bra? A T-shirt?

  Me? I don’t need to search for anything or anyone anymore. I’ve found her, and she’s right next door.

  She pulls a T-shirt from the drawer and just before she goes to slide her arms into it she flicks off the light, turning toward my house in the process.

  I growl. Right now she’s facing my window and I could have seen those amazing breasts of hers.

  I’m so blown away by her right now the thought of heading right back into the shower is running sprints through my mind. But this time I wouldn’t go in there to get clean from nearly twenty-four hours of traveling all the way from Moscow to Miami.

  No. I’d be in there to get dirty, at least my mind that is. To imagine all the things I want to do to that innocent girl who doesn’t even know I exist. Not yet at least.

  But she will. Oh, she will.

  I’m going to make absolutely sure of that.

  The Kremlin purchased this house for one purpose…for me to make contacts and recruit for their cause.

  The first contact I’m going to make is going to be with her, and it’s not going to be just verbal. It will be physical.

  And once I have her, she will be mine forever.

  When I see something I want in this world I take it. And I’ve never wanted something more than the way I want her.

  I will have her. I will take her if I have to.

  I’m still frozen looking out my window and into hers. She can’t see me because the electricity isn’t even turned on yet. Thank god the water is working, even though that cold water could do little to bring down the heat that’s running through my body right now.

  I can’t take my eyes off her window, wanting just one more glimpse of her.

  Suddenly her light turns on. She reaches for what looks to be a Kindle, which is sitting on top of her dresser.

  I watch as she swipes through the pages.

  Are you looking for a naughty story, you dirty little girl? Something to get you worked up before bedtime? Well I’ve got a story for you over here. It’s the story of a Russian man, fresh off the plane from Moscow…a big bad wolf.

  And what does this Russian wolf see? The one who spent part of his youth in snowy Siberia just like the famous arctic fox?

  This wolf sees a Little Red Riding Hood of course. But in this version it’s her panties that are red, and her T-shirt is white…pure.

  My dick jerks at the thought that this girl might be untouched, completely innocent.

  I have to be the only one to touch her…the only one to taste her. Ever.

  And I will.

  Her head darts to the side and she looks out her window.

  A chill runs through me when I realize the moonlight is coming straight into my window, revealing me as I stand here completely naked, my hands still clutching a towel in my short hair.

  Her eyes shoot wide open as she takes in the sight of me.

  Quickly she fumbles for the light, knocking it on to the ground.

  She practically dives to the floor, looking for the switch and suddenly her room is completely dark again.

  She saw me all right.

  But what matters most is I saw her, and I saw our future…together.

  Sleep, my little angel.

  Because tomorrow I come for you.

  CHAPTER 2

  Amanda

  I lie flat on my back on the floor, my hands clutching my chest.

  He’s here. He’s already here.

  And he’s watching me.

  Maybe F.B.I. Director Wray was right. Maybe this is life imitating fiction. Maybe I am Clarice Starling being led into the lion’s den with my very own Hannibal Lecter.

  The move that brought me here was unprecedented, and needed Director Wray’s approval.

  The F.B.I. has a field office in Miramar, a principal city in the Miami metropolitan area and less than seven miles from here in Miami Gardens.

  They could have put an agent on the case, but instead they went with a twenty-three-year-old trainee. They had to pull me out of Quantico to put me here.

  The opportunity was just too good to pass up seeing that I grew up right across the street in the orphanage known as His House Children’s Home. I know that place inside and out and I know the Russian language as well. I’ve been studying it every day since my parents were killed by one.

  But Vasily Vasiliev wasn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow. At least that’s what the intel said.

  When the New Mexico LLC, that we have on good authority is controlled by him, made payment for the property we knew he, or someone in his outfit, was coming.

  We didn’t actually expect it to be him until we intercepted his ticket purchase two days ago.

  But apparently he didn’t take that ticket and instead decided to come a day early.

  I’ve been studying everything I can about this man for the last week. Everything. It’s beyond rare that they pull a trainee out of Quantico to conduct actual field work, and even more rare that they would even consider my request for a concealed carry permit. Luckily I was already far enough along at “The Farm” as it’s known, the place where F.B.I. recruits are trained, that Director Wray was comfortable signing off on all the waivers to take me out of training and put me in the field.

  All the waivers except the one for the weapon.

  Still he personally warned me about turning this into a huge shit storm, especially considering all the shake-ups at the top of The Bureau in recent months.

  But this opportunity couldn’t wait.

  Vasily is a top Kremlin associate, and is known for his looks, stamina, and commitment to physical fitness. I just had no idea how committed he really is.

  I knew he was in good shape from the surveillance photos we had of him, but those are just pictures shot from long range where he’s wearing business attire.

  What I just saw is something entirely different.

  The way the moon lit his body I could see every ripple in his muscles, every cut of his abs, and the entire length of that huge rod he was sporting in-between his legs.

  He was hard…hard as a steel pipe.

  Since my parent’s death, I’ve been so focused on growing up and pursuing a career chasing bad guys that I haven’t had the time or interest for men, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what a big dick looks like.

  Good lord the man is hung, or more accurately carrying a flag pole in his pants. There was nothing hanging about what I just saw.

  My mind flashes back and the analytical problem solving skills they drill into us at The Bureau kick in.

  A few seconds ago I was changing right by that window. I was totally nude.

  I feel so damn violated, and strangely turned on at the same time.

  Vasily is a handsome man, a rich man, and one who’s desired by the upper crust of Russian society.

  Did I do that to him? Did seeing me turn him on to the point he was standing in front of his window with a giant hard-on?

  I dismiss the thought. It’s just the eroticism of it. He saw a girl changing and she couldn’t see him. His mind was more turned on than his body. His body just reacted to the thrill guys get from hunting women, not that we have any intel on Vasily being a lady’s man or sleeping around.

  Come to think of it he goes to all those high society parties but he’s never been linked to any of those women.

  What’s his deal?

  And what’s my deal? My nipples are practically cutting through this cotton T-shirt tryin
g to break free, and my panties are damp.

  This is not happening. It can’t be.

  It’s fine. I’m not worried about it one bit and won’t let it compromise my mission. I’m just having the same reaction he is. It’s just the eroticism of the whole voyeur thing. It’s over now. Done with. Time to get back to work.

  I slide on my back over to the window and reach for the cord that will close the curtains.

  Shit! My arm is too short.

  I come up slightly. Damn, he can probably see my arm now.

  I give the cord a tug and then release it, sending it straight to the top and the Venetian blinds straight to the bottom with a serpentine sound.

  Just before I go to stand I hear a huge belly laugh rumble through the humid, South Florida’s night air.

  Is that? Is he…laughing at me?