Texting Mr. Mafia – Text Me You Love Me Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
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“We’ve been stood up by the Shanks,” I say.

“It’s only been ten minutes.”

“Only,” I repeat. “If you were them—if you had the chance to do business with the Marinos—you’d be early, and so would I.”

There’s nothing Luca can say in response to that. He crosses his arms and slumps back in his seat. I remember when he was five, and I was fifteen, wrestling with him in the garden, holding him over my head and laughing as he thrust his hands in front of him, his gap-toothed grin wide as he flew through the air.

“Dad said we have to meet with them,” Luca says when I shift in my seat.

“I respect Father,” I say, “but—”

“Uh-oh. I know something bad is coming if you called him Father.”

“But I’m not going to wait here all night. For Dad, we’ll give the assholes five more minutes. If anybody else pulled some shit like this, though…”

“I know,” Luca says quietly. “I just want what’s best for Dad. He looked so excited when he talked about this deal.”

I bite down on my response. Luca’s living in a fantasy world when he talks like this. Dad’s tone and demeanor don’t change these days, no matter what he’s talking about. Yet Luca thinks he can see through the condition to the man he once was. Maybe I’m a cold, grim bastard, but I don’t have it in me to convince him otherwise.

“Five minutes,” I say, “and then…”

I can’t talk. My throat is suddenly tight. My balls pulse. Pulse. Is this what going insane feels like?

A waitress is walking across the restaurant. She’s got her light brown hair tied up in a bun, the color so pale it’s almost red, but not quite. Her uniform hugs tight to her hips, highlighting her curviness, her thick, beautiful legs in tights that make me want to howl and find every other man in here who’s admiring her and royally mess them up.

She sways her hips from side to side as she approaches our table. I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose. I’ve been around enough women who are intent on seducing me to know the difference. This is just her gorgeous thickness, moving her voluptuous, young body from side to side, hypnotizing me.

She stops at the edge of our table, letting me see her captivating light blue eyes and full cheeks. Her face is flushed and red. She looks so damn… fertile. Fertile? What’s wrong with me? But it’s the truth. I want to hold her, kiss her, bend her over and spank her ass and then slip into her tight slit and fuck her until she’s pregnant.

I never wanted a family before. Now I need one.

No, slow down. Think. Has somebody spiked my drink?

She looks down at me, seeming panicked. Maybe she knows who I am. Or perhaps I’m just letting my feelings show way too obviously on my face. I could dart out of my chair, grab those thick hips, and pull her against me so she felt my hard manhood against her body. I’d turn her around and grind against her ass.

“Are you ready to order, gentlemen?” she asks.

“Still waiting on somebody, doll,” Luca says, waving a hand at the empty seats.

I scowl at him. He tilts his head, silently asking me what the issue is, but there’s no way I can explain it. I can’t tell him that hearing him call her doll sends violent, deranged thoughts into my head. I can’t tell him that nobody ever gets to talk to her like that.

“Thank you…” I lean forward and look at her name tag, pinned to the tempting shape of her breast. “Scarlet.”

Her cheeks turn even more the color of her name. She nods, turns, and walks away. I struggle not to stare. It’s not just how sexy she is. I mean, it is that. It’s that big ass, made for caressing, for spanking, for owning. It’s her legs, making me think what she’d sound like if I stripped her naked and bit down on her curviness. It’s also just… her, like her soul is calling to mine.

“You good?” Luca says.

“What?” I turn to him. “Fine.”

“Do you know her?”

“Who?”

He tilts his head at me. My little brother can seem like a party animal to some people. They mistake his love of clubs and bars and women for a lack of intelligence, but he’s a perceptive man. He sees something. It’s not like he will instantly know I needed her the second I saw Scarlet. I need her. He’s not going to know that I’d kill and die for her already.

“What do you mean, who?” he says after a pause. “The waitress. Scarlet. Is she Family?”

“No,” I reply.

“Then why did you get so touchy when I called her doll?”

“I didn’t.”

“But you did…”

“You’re wrong.”

“Okay, Elio,” he says, clearly not believing me. “Fair enough.”


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