Texting The Tattooist Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
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“Apologize,” Killian snaps.

I almost say, He doesn’t have to. But then I remember how he marched around the apartment, how terrified Mom was, and the pain he caused.

“S-s-sorry,” he wheezes.

“Call the police, Mia,” Killian says. “It’s time to end this.”

I take out my cell phone and dial.

CHAPTER 24

Killian

How is he? Mia texts.

I’m on the couch, Speeder sprawled out at my feet, sleeping soundly. The second we returned from the police station, Andrea declared she was exhausted and went to her bedroom.

But I don’t blame her for that.

We were gone for longer than we said we’d be, plus she didn’t just take care of Speeder but also cleaned much of the apartment.

He’s fast asleep. He looks happy. She did a great job.

I’ll be out in a little while. I said I’d sit with Mom while she fell asleep.

That’s fine, I reply.

I look down at Speeder, warmth infusing me.

In the old days, the police wouldn’t have dared touch him, but Emil’s standing within the Cartel has clearly waned.

He was ranting that he was a so-called important person as they dragged him away.

Now, they’ll throw everything they have at him – the home invasion, the attempted assault, plus crimes from before he left the city.

Do you mind? Mia texts. I know it seems silly. She’s the Mom, and I’m the daughter. I shouldn’t have to sit with her… but this was a big deal for her, a huge deal, taking care of Speeder and then taking it upon herself to clean the apartment.

You don’t have to make excuses, I text. I agree with you. I saw how she reacted when Speeder was barking at her. I’m proud of her, Mia. You don’t have to be self-conscious or anything like that.

You know me too well, she replies, making me smile, despite the aftershocks of what Emil did or tried to do, they were still ricocheting around me. I keep forgetting I don’t have to put up a false front with you. You’ve seen me, Mom, our whole deal… and you still want me.

More than anything.

It amazes me, she texts. Seriously.

By the way, I haven’t forgotten what you said.

I keep the text suggestive, not wanting to force anything on her, though something about defending her against that asshole Emil has caused the fire to flare to life in me, the pulsing heat of claiming her, owning every inch of her.

It’s like the fire of violence has turned into the fire of love.

Love.

I still haven’t aimed that word at my woman yet, but I can’t think of how else I’d describe this feeling, this thundering in my heart.

I still want it, she replies after a moment. I won’t lie. I’m nervous. But I don’t want to live my life based on what makes me nervous. I want to live confidently and fully. And with you, I think I can.

I know you can, I reply. You were always stronger than you thought. I’ll never stop reminding you of that. You’re tough, Mia, but not so tough your man will ever stop protecting you.

Speeder wakes, stretching out his body, arching his back and elongating his limbs, and then looking at me with something like a smile shaping his mouth.

It’s like he knows.

Everything’s going to work out.

Unless my woman freaks when I claim her.

“She’s asleep,” Mia says, walking into the bedroom.

I smirk over at her, her clothes hugging a body made for me and me alone, her hair curling around her shoulders.

“What?” she says, closing the door behind her.

“Just then,” I say, walking slowly across the room, “when you said she’s asleep, it was so easy to imagine you talking about one of our children. It’s so easy to think of the future and all the wonderful moments to come. But, at the same time, I don’t want to let go of a single moment. I wish I could tattoo every single second into my memory.”

“Don’t you think that would get boring after a while?” she says, voice spunky like she’s trying to make light of it.

But the glistening in her eyes tells me she understands this moment’s importance.

I can almost scent her nerves in the air, but her lips are hard, determined.

“Never,” I say, stepping forward.

I wonder if she’ll always make that noise when I kiss her, the muffled quick breathing through the closeness of our lips, the moaning need as I wrap my arms around her and pull her right up against me.

She wraps her arms around me, clawing onto my back as I pull her closer, our bodies melting together. As we open our mouths and kiss passionately, I struggle to believe this woman was ever a stranger, to believe I ever thought I was going to live the rest of my life alone, and to believe I thought I was too broken for this.

For her, my woman.


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