The Woman with the Flowers (Costa Family #5) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
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“More like someone I really disliked,” he told me. “Still, not my finest move,” I admitted.

“I think the fault always lies on the party that’s in a committed relationship,” I said, shrugging. “Unless the other person is someone’s best friend.” That was the kind of betrayal I couldn’t imagine. Finding out someone you trusted as much, if not more than your partner, had been the one screwing around with them all along.

“That’s fair. And she hated the bastard too, so there’s that,” he said, the smile shining through for a minute before he wiped it away. “But, yeah, I was raised better than that,” he added. “My father was more pissed than anyone about the situation. That man never looked at another woman after my Ma passed.

“Granted, he likely couldn’t, what with keeping his eyes on all of us. And we didn’t make it easy for him, but still. He was a model of fidelity and love. He hasn’t exactly been proud that I turned out to be so casual about women.”

“You were… young,” I said, assuming that most of his transgressions would have been in his twenties. What man was a full-fledged adult in their twenties? Not many.

“Yeah, but I knew better. Hell, just a couple weeks back, my brother Gav—the one I dragged up here with me—,” he clarified, “stopped me from getting involved with another married woman.”

“Why?”

“Why did he stop me?”

“Why were you interested in another married woman?”

“Honestly? I didn’t know this one was married at the time. Only Gav did. But I honestly don’t think that information would have stopped me, either,” he admitted.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, shaking my head.

Who went out of their way to paint themselves in a bad light?

“Figured maybe a little backstory might help this make some more sense,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“I’ve been casual as fuck about women, is what I’m saying,” he told me. “A fun night, maybe two if it landed on a weekend, and that’s it. Not to be a dick, but I really never gave any of them thoughts beyond those nights, either.”

“Alright.”

“That’s the thing. Can’t fucking stop thinking about you,” he said, shaking his head at himself.

Oh, my heart.

What I wouldn’t give to have a different situation, a more fair choice to make.

“Maybe just because we haven’t…” I said, waving a hand out. He knew what I meant.

“It’s not that,” he said, tone certain. “Not that I don’t want that,” he said, reaching out to gently slap his hand onto my thigh, making me realize it had gotten exposed once again as his fingers met my bare skin.

I couldn’t hold back the little gasp that escaped me.

And Cesare couldn’t pretend to ignore it.

His dark eyes flashed and his fingers tightened on my skin.

He watched me, gaze intense, waiting for an objection of some sort.

But despite knowing I needed to give him one, I couldn’t seem to force my mind and mouth to work in unison.

I just looked back at him, knowing the desire was clear in my eyes.

Seeing it, his hand shifted, sliding up.

My legs parted slightly, and Cesare wasted no time, his hand slipping between, pressing his palm against the juncture of my thighs.

A whimper escaped me as his touch met my bare skin, my clit aching as his finger shifted up to slide over it.

“Fuck,” he hissed, shifting over on the couch to give himself a better angle. “You’re already so wet for me,” he hissed, leaning closer, his breath on my neck.

I was beyond thought right then.

All that mattered was the sensations, the feel of him, the smell of him, his words murmured against my skin as his lips met my neck.

My legs spread, giving him full access. His hand shifted, his thumb taking over on my clit as his fingers slipped down, sliding inside of me to the sound of my ragged whimper.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his fingers thrusting for a moment before, on an impatient growl, they moved away so he could grab me, pull me until I was straddling him, then slip his hand between us again to start working me.

His other hand shot out, working the knot of my train free, so he could slide the material wide, exposing me to his hungry gaze.

His hand moved up my side, then across my chest, grazing my breast, making me arch back to press myself into his hand, silently begging for more even as his fingers steadily drove me up.

Cesare’s head dipped, his lips closing around my nipple, sucking it into his greedy mouth, making sparks dance across my skin as my hips started to rock against his palm, creating new sensations that had me breathless even as Cesare’s tongue moved across the tightened bud of my nipple.

I felt the orgasm coming slowly, then all at once, leaving me crying out as I leaned into him.


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