Texting the Mafia Hitman Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
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“Perfectly contrasted,” she repeats when I tell her. “I like that, Colt. You’re quite poetic for a… whatever you are.”

I open the passenger-side door, smirking. “I used to have to write long reports in my old job. Sometimes, I went too long. People used to joke that I should’ve been a writer, but it was only a joke.”

“What was your old job?” she asks.

“I was in special operations. A green beret.”

Moving around to the driver’s seat, I find her watching me. I’ll never tire of looking into her eyes and being close to her.

“I’ve waited a year for this.”

I lean in, but then she leans away. Something like a sting hits me right in the gut. Weirdly, shame grips me. I get the boyish urge to push the door open, run away, and pretend this never happened.

“Colt,” she whispers. “It’s not that. It’s work. I don’t want my boss to see.”

“I don’t want anybody to see,” I snarl. “When you get all sexy, that’s just for me.”

She gestures at the parking lot at the people walking by. “Well… shall I get all sexy here, then? Not that I’d know how to do that.”

I start the car engine, mentally calculating the quickest way to get her somewhere private. “You keep dropping all those hints about experience. It’s like you’re begging me to teach you, Lexi.”

“Well, that would be helpful.”

I pull out of the parking lot, looking around.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Trying to find a spot to kiss you. A place nobody’ll see.”

She laughs adorably, almost like she’s shocked anybody would want her this badly. That’s good and bad. She shouldn’t be surprised, but I don’t want anybody else to even look at her.

“What about over there?” she says. “I wouldn’t say alleys are exactly romantic, but for a q-quick kiss?”

The slight stutter tells me she’s not as confident as she’s presenting herself, but that can’t stop me from doing this. I pull into the alleyway, ignoring the graffiti on the walls and the trashcans. Then I turn to my Lexi. She’s staring at me with her lips parted, that tempting expression.

Leaning forward, I bring my lips to hers, and then she pushes down against my chest.

“I-I-I can’t,” she says, leaning away like she thinks I’ll pounce on her anyway. “I’m sorry, Colt. I thought I could. I wanted to. I want to, but I just can’t, and I can’t explain. Oh, God. I’ve ruined everything.”

I hold her hands gently, shocked at how gentle a man like me can actually be. “It’s okay,” I tell her, leaning down and looking into her eyes. “I get it.”

She stares back at me, shaking her head slowly. “No, you don’t.”

“I think I do,” I say. “I’ve… been around the world, Lexi. I’ve met all different kinds of people. I’ve experienced darkness.”

“What?” she snaps, snatching her hands away. “You’re saying something must be wrong with me because I won’t kiss you in some grimy alley? Is that it? I must be deficient, broken. I must have serious problems. Is that it?”

She’s getting worked up, a flush spreading across her face.

“I’m not here to judge you,” I tell her, “and I’m not here to force you. But I see you, Lexi.”

She blinks, her eyes glistening with tears. That seals it for me. I reach forward and cradle her face.

“I see you,” I repeat.

“What does that even mean?” she whispers, tears streaming down her cheek.

I gently caress her cheek, then lay my forehead against hers. “That wasn’t a choice, just now—you pulling away. That was a reflex. You want it. I can see how badly you want it, but something’s stopping you. You don’t have to tell me what.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispers, but it sounds unconvincing.

“It’s okay,” I say, wrapping my arms around her.

She hesitates, but then she grabs onto me and pulls herself close. She presses her face against my chest. For a second, I think she’s going to stay here, letting me offer whatever comfort I can, letting me be here for her. I know I’ve seen something in her—PTSD, fear that goes past what she wants into who she is. Who hurt her? If they’re still around…

She pushes away from me again. “I-I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

She grabs the door handle. “I’m sorry.”

“Lexi…”

I curl my hand around her wrist, holding her in place. She bites her lips for a moment, another reflex, this one of lust. Then she snatches her hand away. “Please, just let me. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Lexi—”

“You came off hot and heavy, okay?” she says fiercely, yanking her hand free. I let it go. I could hold her, but against her will? “You can’t just expect me… I’ll text you.”

“We can talk now,” I tell her.

“There are some things you can’t say. You know that, Colt. It’s not like you talk and text the same, is it? In your texts, you tell me you’re surprised you didn’t die of boredom before I came along. You get all poetic, and now you’re trying to jump my bones.”


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