Forgetting Christmas Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
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But I can see she’s not ready just yet.

And I don’t want her first time, our first time to be in a shitty apartment, either.

“You sure you’re not mad?” she finally asks, making me realize I’ve lost myself in looking at her, feeling her against me all over again.

“I’ll never be mad at you,” I pledge, taking her face in one hand and pressing my lips to her cheek. Breathing in her scent deeply, feeling my heart thump against my ribs as her loosened blond bangs tickle my face and neck.

“We can go as fast or slow as you want,” I add. “And as much as I could stay on this couch forever with you, I think it’s high time we went someplace a little classier, don’t you?” I ask thoughtfully.

I think it’s a good suggestion, even adding we can find out who I am a little better along the way, but she looks suddenly hurt.

My head aches again, but not from the bump. It’s like it is now. Every time she’s hurting or not smiling, I feel it too.

“I… I do the best I can, ya know. To get by,” she says, a teardrop forming at the corner of one of her baby blues, which I kiss away immediately.

“I know you do,” I tell her, wishing I knew a little more myself so I could be certain of exactly what I can offer her.

A sudden thumping on her apartment door makes her jump, and seeing her eyes widen with fear, I feel my own narrow as I stand, zipping myself up.

“Steve,” she calls out to me as if she knows or senses something I can’t, but Holly’s with me now, and anyone that pounds on her door like this is pounding on mine too.

In two long strides, I’m at the door, which I swing open, shirtless and feeling my free hand flexing into a fist before this schmuck gets a second chance at pounding.

He’s a big guy but soft. Smelly too, and the stub of cigar at the corner of his mouth droops as he looks up at me before he has to blink, scanning my whole body again.

“Who the fuck are you?” he barks, sniffing loudly but taking a wise step back as I move out into the hallway.

Before I can say anything, Holly’s voice chimes from behind me but I shift my weight, blocking this asshole’s view of her.

If she’s nowhere near decent, nobody gets to see that – nobody but me.

“It’s alright, Mr. Reynolds. This is… a friend…,” she says, her voice trailing off.

I join some dots in my mind and figure this guy must be the building’s super.

He sneers to himself and shakes his head in disbelief.

“If you can afford a man whore like this to fuck you, Holly Winters, you can afford to pay the god damned rent,” he finally spits, snarling the last few words as he makes to move past me, but my hand was already blocking him.

He looks up at me in disbelief, but a subtle shake of my head tells him he’s gone about as far as he’s going to without some free dental work courtesy of my fist.

“Mr. Reynolds,” I growl, leaning down a little so only he can hear me.

“If there’s an issue with Ms. Winters’ rent, I’ll be glad to fix it. Do you have a card, a contact number?” I ask, straining between rage and what sounds like professional politeness I never knew I had.

“I’m in two twenty,” he says, calmer, glad when I remove my hand so he can straighten out his stained undershirt.

“And yeah, she’s a month past due and needs to be two weeks in advance…,” he says quietly, looking a foot shorter all of a sudden.

“Fine,” I clip, creasing the briefest smile before letting him know that once my business here is finished, I’ll pay him a personal visit to settle the matter.

He gulps again, his eyes focusing on my semi-nakedness, which is now as tight as a drum, ready to tear a guy like this into pieces.

“It’s just the rent, though. I-I don’t want any trouble,” he finally stammers.

His change in mood is obvious, and with a single and silent movement of my head, I dismiss him, closing the door loudly as I turn to see Holly, still upset.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she murmurs, gnawing at her lip.

“I haven’t done anything. Yet,” I remind her. And myself.

She’s put a robe on, a fluffy, downy kind that makes me instantly gravitate toward her.

I pull her close, stroking her hair, and hear myself promise not to make things worse when she says how worried she is about me stirring up any trouble with her and her landlord.

“I won’t,” I tell her, making a mental note of his apartment number again in my mind.


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