Need Him Like Oxygen (Lombardi Famiglia #2) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Lombardi Famiglia Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
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“I’ll wipe the floor with you.”

“And I’ll try to pretend I don’t enjoy the fuck out of that,” he said, giving me that smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly.

This Dav was easier for me to deal with. The playful, flirtatious one that I’d built up a wall against for years.

I had no defenses to the soft and sweet Dav, the one full of praise and admiration.

“Tell me one of your stories,” I demanded.

“One of my stories?” he asked.

“Right. Like you don’t know what I’m talking about. One of those stories you are always telling a crowd of people at Renzo’s house.”

“Did I ever tell you the story about when I was spending the summer with my aunt and uncle over in Pennsylvania?” he asked.

“No,” I admitted, surprised how excited I was to hear something new about his life. Especially his childhood, which he was almost as closed-lipped about as I was about my own.

“So, we were sixteen, right?” he started, slipping into the magnetic voice and cadence he always had when he was telling a story. “And we were really fucking interested in what was under a girls’ skirt.”

“Ugh,” I grumbled. Of all his stories, the ones that involved his escapades with women had always rubbed me the wrong way for reasons I didn’t care to analyze.

“Hang on with me,” he said. “Anyway, he had this basement that his parents had kind of converted into a bedroom and ‘kid space’ when my cousins became teenagers. Had two bedrooms, a bath, plus a common space with a pool table, video games, the usual shit. Had those external doors too, so we waited until his parents went to bed, then snuck some girls in.

“Turns out, my cousins each had a thing for these sisters. And, well, shit started to get hot and heavy in the common area where I was crashing on the couch. So they took the girls off into the bedrooms. And… shit was getting noisy.

“Then, like a fucking bad teen movie, I heard the creak of footsteps from above. From the parents’ bedroom, through the house, and getting close to the doors.”

“Uh oh.”

“Exactly.”

“What did you do?” I asked, knowing most of his stories featured him as the lead.

“Grabbed my phone, brought up some porn, and broadcast that shit on the main TV. Room filled with a chick getting airtight with a group of others just waiting around for their turn, jerking off. Turned that shit up loud as the door to the basement opened, then went under the covers and pretended I was having a good, late-night fap all to myself.”

“Oh, god,” I grumbled, shaking my head.

“Needless to say, my uncle rushed the fuck back up the stairs. Couldn’t look me in the face the rest of that month,” he admitted. “But my cousins had the best five minutes of their lives that night.”

“Five minutes, huh? What is that? Twice your best time?” I teased.

“What I might lack in sheet time, I more than make up for in my on my knees time.”

Right.

As if the tales of Davide’s fucking skills weren’t practically legendary in Brooklyn. I mean, the tales of his head game were just as widespread, but, yeah, he only joked about it because we both knew the man was, apparently, some sort of sex god.

Not that I cared.

Or had ever wondered about what he was like in bed.

Or what he was packing.

Nope.

My mind definitely never went there.

“Those meds kicking in?” he asked as I tried to ignore the way his fingers were no longer stationary on my hip, but were instead searing a trail down my hip and my outer thigh. It was a whisper of a touch. But I felt every freaking centimeter his fingers traveled.

“Yeah,” I said, the throbbing just slightly more tolerable. Enough that I wasn’t actively crying anymore, at least. Which was a win in my book. I’d cried more in this one night than I had in the past fucking decade. Or maybe ever. I was pretty sure I didn’t even cry much as a baby. My mother would never have responded to my wails anyway.

“Close your eyes,” he suggested, his fingers still working their soothing magic up and down my hip and thigh.

That sounded like a good idea to me, so I let my lashes flutter closed, getting lost in the warmth of him beside me, the feel of his fingers on me, the scent of him all around me.

That, mixed with the meds cutting my pain, and I practically wanted to purr at the comfort I felt enveloped in right then.

I was mostly asleep when I heard Dav’s voice break into the floating bliss I was enveloped in.

“I’m gonna track down each one of the motherfuckers who put their hands on you,” he said, voice a whisper, likely thinking I was out cold. “And I am going to skin them fucking alive for this.”


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