The Woman with the Target on her Back (Grassi Family #6) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Grassi Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
<<<<21220212223243242>79
Advertisement2


“Right. That makes sense,” he agreed, leading me out into the hall and toward the stairwell.

“Can we take the stairs instead?” I asked. I usually had Aurelio to make the request for me, and I felt awkward making it myself.

“Is this a ‘elevators waste energy’ kind of thing?” he asked, but went toward the door for the stairwell without any more fuss.

“It’s a ‘I like to move my body on occasion’ kind of thing.”

“You’ve heard of gyms, right?” he asked as we started down.

“In longevity studies, people whose lives are simply more active live longer and healthier lives than those who just workout on occasion,” I said. “What?” I asked, catching a look that crept across his face.

“Let me guess, you’re a documentary fan.”

“And podcasts. Is something wrong with that?” I asked, glaring at his profile.

He turned so fast that there was no stopping the gasp that escaped me as we stood at one of the landings.

“Everything isn’t a fucking dig at you, Trav. Why do you have to take everything I say with offense?” he asked, pinning me with those delicious eyes of his.

Delicious?

Ugh, yeah, they were.

I couldn’t even lie to myself and say they weren’t.

The man was uncommonly good-looking.

And there was nothing wrong with me noticing that. I was a human with eyes, after all. It didn’t mean I was, you know, attracted to him.

Except, God, he was really freaking close. And for some reason, it felt like he was sucking all the air out of the enormous stairwell.

“Are you really going to stand there and act like you don’t constantly poke at me?”

“Maybe if you didn’t rise to the bait each time…” he said, shrugging.

“So, you start shit, and I’m supposed to be the sweet, demure, non-confrontational proper lady and take it?”

To that, August snorted.

“No, baby, no one is ever going to call you any of that.”

“Then why—“

“Maybe I just like fighting with you,” he said.

“That’s completely ridiculous,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Is it?” he asked, suddenly towering over me, backing me against the wall, forcing me to crane my neck up to keep eye contact with him.

“Yes,” I said, but my voice came out oddly breathless. “No one likes fighting with people.”

“Well, that can’t be true since I like fighting with you.”

“Clearly, you are a little out of your… what are you doing?” I asked when his hand lifted, his fingertip teasing over my cheek.

“You get flushed when you’re pissed off,” he told me. “Makes a man wonder if you flush when you’re a different kind of passionate too,” he said, his voice going lower, smoother. Gooey, creamy chocolate, that was what it was. And I’d always had a sweet tooth.

“Well, you’re never going to find—“ I started to object.

But then his hand was moving, framing my jaw, his gaze holding mine. Just for a beat. Two. Then his lips were claiming mine.

There was nothing soft or sweet about it, either.

It was hard and rough, almost punishing, bruising.

And, well, that was exactly how I liked it.

Damn him.

I could have resisted if he was all soft and unsure.

As it was, though, desire pulsed through me, igniting my blood, making a fire burn through me as my hands rose, grabbing the back of his neck, holding him close as his tongue moved inside, teasing, claiming.

It retreated before I was done, though, dragging a grumble out of me as mine moved into his mouth. But then his lips closed around it, sucking slightly, making a jolt of desire shoot straight to my core.

The moan that escaped me was loud and primal, echoing back through the open space.

August’s answering rumbling sound met my ears as his free hand went down, sinking into my ass for a second before moving down my thigh, hiking it up to the side of his hip, so he could press into me, crushing me to the wall as his hard cock rubbed against me.

Hooking my leg around his lower back, I shifted slightly so his cock was against my pussy, dragging another moan out of me at the friction, at a hint of what I wanted most.

Taking the cue, August ground against me as his lips deepened the kiss, as his hand snuck up under my shirt, teasing over the skin of my belly, then tracing the underside of my bra before his hand closed around one of my breasts, squeezing.

His lips muted the sound of my moan as I suddenly grabbed his hand, pulling it out of my shirt, and pressing it under the waistband of my pants.

There was no hesitation as his hand slipped into my panties, stroking up my cleft.

“Fucking drenched for me,” he murmured against my lips before his thumb was tracing over my clit, making that fire burn hotter as I rocked against his touch.

My own hand moved between us as well, cupping his cock through his pants, thinking of it inside of me as his fingers slid into me, stroking, driving me up.


Advertisement3

<<<<21220212223243242>79

Advertisement4