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
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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Ma was going to be over the moon when I finally invited her over.

It meant a lot to both of them in very different ways. My mom, who wanted all of us settled down and happy, building our own family units. Traveler, who was looking for a surrogate mom figure in her life, so she wanted my mother’s approval.

It wasn’t necessary, of course. Traveler had my mother’s approval just by getting me to settle down and get serious.

Still, it was sweet how much she was trying.

I couldn’t wait until she was done selling her place, and that chapter finally felt fully closed, so we could fully devote our time to the next one.

Traveler - 6 months

Yes, it took six months to find a home.

Not because there weren’t enough on the market, or because we had a strict budget to work within.

Nope.

Just because we were two stubborn-ass people who had very different ideas on what we wanted.

In the end, I was kind of glad neither of us had given in. Because one morning as I was making coffee, the text came through from our realtor about a house that hadn’t made any lists yet.

A absolutely charming barn-style home with wooden shakes, a gambrel roof, high ceilings, exposed timber beams, and a giant hearth with the outside part of the fireplace covered in ivy.

It wasn’t new—my most important stipulation—but it had been completely renovated in the past ten years. Which would appease August.

It had wide plank wooden floors, a big, central U-shaped kitchen that allowed you to see into the dining, living, and family rooms at the same time. I figured that would come in handy when there were kids running around, allowing me to cook dinner and keep an eye on them.

Speaking of future children, it was a five-bedroom. Five. The primary was on the lower level, and all the others upstairs along with one and a half baths up there and one and a half downstairs.

The property wasn’t huge. But not many in the area were unless you were paying several million. But it was just shy of an acre, which was plenty of room to have places for gardens, a play area, and open running room.

And while the current owners had really done a lot, they’d made sure to keep its original charm.

“Listen,” I said when I brought my phone over to August who was still sitting in bed, answering a text. Which seemed to be a second profession of his thanks to his giant family.

It wasn’t uncommon for me to get finger cramps from answering all the texts I was getting now too. Not that I was complaining. I’d never felt as whole and loved as I did with his family constantly reaching out to me, including me, wanting to get to know me.

“I’m listening,” he said, putting his phone down and looking over at me.

“I better not hear a single complaint about this one,” I said as I got on my side of the bed and handed him the phone. “Or I am buying it myself, and you can just continue to live in this glass and stone monstrosity,” I told him.

Then I watched him as he read the listing, then flipped through the pictures. All seventy-five of them.

It felt like it took hours for him to finish as I sat there with my hopeful little heart lodged in my throat.

“Damnit,” he said in the end, sighing as he handed me back my phone.

“Damnit?” I asked, my voice a small whisper, that hopeful heart starting to deflate.

“We can’t argue about it,” he said, smirking. “I fucking love it too.”

Oh, thank fucking God.

“Makeup sex is great,” I said, tossing my phone away, then climbing over to straddle him. “But have you ever had We just picked out our dream house sex before?”

“I have not,” he said, eyes warming already.

“I have a feeling it’s gonna be even better,” I told him, sealing my lips to his.

It started soft and sweet and loving.

Yes, loving.

We’d said those words.

Him first.

Because I was a real chickenshit when it came to my own feelings.

But my words nearly tripped over themselves to rush out as soon as he said those three words. Okay, his was five words. Because, heaven forbid, he missed a chance to call me sugar tits.

So, yes, it started as loving and hopeful.

But it wasn’t long until we were tearing the clothes off of each other, before our hands were roaming, stoking little sparks until they became a raging wildfire.

Before we knew it, August was slamming inside of me from behind, and my face was buried in the bedding, trying to muffle my moans as he drove me up.

August’s hands took a handful of my hair, pulling me up.

“Go ahead and scream,” he said, pounding into me. “They’re not going to be our neighbors for long,” he said, his words and thrusts pushing me right to that edge, then sending me soaring into a whole-body orgasm, leaving me trembling and boneless.


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