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|Resist Me(Men of Inked #5) by Chelle Bliss|
Sexy Fugitive: My fingers don’t feel as good as your dick driving into me.
I closed my eyes, rubbing my hard-on through my jeans as I thought about her fingering herself. I refused to let myself come until I was buried deep inside her.
Me: You’re wicked.
Sexy Fugitive: Spank me.
I thought that she needed a visual. I unzipped my jeans and pulled out my cock. Gripping it from the base in one hand, I snapped a picture and sent it to her. Let her choke on that.
I gave my c**k a quick squeeze, trying to stop the ache before I shoved it back in my jeans. Tonight, I’d need an ice bath to quell my hard-on.
Sexy Fugitive: You don’t play fair.
Me: When it comes to you…no f**kin’ way.
Sexy Fugitive: I have a client. Gotta go.
Me: Think of me when you touch yourself tonight.
Sexy Fugitive: Arrogant ass**le.
I left it at that. I had her.
Chapter 15 - Mother Knows Best
“What’s troubling you, Isabella?” Ma asked as she sat down next to me at her kitchen table.
James and I had been texting for the last twenty-four hours—a constant volley of messages to drive each other insane. I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. The world seemed to be conspiring against me when it came to James. Was I the only one who thought we were a terrible idea?
“James,” I whispered without looking at her as I rubbed the smooth wooden table with my fingertips.
Placing her hand over mine, she stopped my nervous motion. “Izzy, look at me.”
I met her soft, kind eyes. My mother was and would always be my best friend. I looked up to her and how she lived her life. From the outside, people would assume that she didn’t run the show, but make no bones about it—she was the boss of this family.
“What are you so scared of?” she asked, stroking the back of my hand with her thumb.
“He’s just so…“
“Perfect for you?” she asked, smiling wide.
“Ma, are you crazy?” I asked, flabbergasted by her question.
“I know when a man is smitten. I’ve seen you with other men, Izzy. No one got the reaction out of you that James did.”
“Isn’t that a bad thing, Ma?”
“Oh, honey, no. Your father still gets a rise out of me. It’s what keeps us going after all these years of marriage. Without the fire between us, we would’ve ended long ago.”
“But you and Pop love each other.”
“Fiercely,” she said, staring out the window as she watched my dad tend the garden. “Even after all these years, he makes me batshit crazy.”
“Pop isn’t bossy like James.”
“Isabella, you look at your father through rose-colored glasses. Salvatore was the bossiest man I’ve ever met.”
“Not Daddy,” I said, following her eyes to watch him as he handpicked some tomatoes.
She laughed, patting my hand. “Child, that man made your brothers look soft. I’ve worn him down throughout the years. Don’t tell him that, though.”
I giggled, thinking of my mother laying into my dad. “I remember what you told us before Suzy and Joe were married.”
“Men like to think they have all the power, but we really know who rules the roost.”
“Ma, if you start talking about sex, I’ll puke right here.”
“James will make you happy.”
“He makes me miserable. What if I become one of those women who changes for her man?”
She shook her head, turning her attention back to me. “Izzy, baby. I raised you to be strong and independent. That’ll never happen. A man like James needs someone who is his equal. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at you.”
“What do you see?” I asked, wondering how I missed all the signs.
“He looks at you like your father looked at me when we dated. Hell, he still looks at me that way now.”
“Like a piece of meat?”
“Like a challenge worth the fight, baby girl.”
“I don’t know, Ma.”
“Have I ever given you bad advice?”
I thought about it for a moment before I answered her. Shaking my head, I said, “No.”
The door opened as Dad walked in. “Baby girl, what are you doing here?”
“That happy to see me, Daddy?” I asked, jumping to my feet to kiss him.
“I’m always happy to see my favorite child.”
I slapped him on the shoulder and smiled. “You say that to all of us.”
“You’re my favorite daughter,” he said, setting the tomatoes on the counter.
“Your only daughter.”
“You mince words. Give me a hug,” he demanded, holding out his arms.
I buried my face in his chest, wrapping my arms around my dad. Even at his age, he was still toned and muscular. It was in the male genes in the Gallo family. They didn’t breed them small.
He stroked my hair and spoke softly. “What’s troubling you, Isabella?”
“You and Ma are scary,” I said, moving from his arms to look up at his face.
“Why?” he asked with knitted brows, creasing the lining his forehead.
“She asked the same exact question.”
“What was your answer?”
“Ah. I like that man.”
I rolled my eyes, releasing my grip from my dad’s shirt. “Who doesn’t?”
“I know you’re sweet on him too, baby girl.”