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308 pages, Kindle Edition
First published February 23, 2022
I’m already sorta, kinda…smitten-ish.”
[…] “Whatever. You’re smitten-ish too. Don’t try to deny it.”
Essential, my hairy Italian ass.
“If he were going after you, I’d a killed him with my bare hands. And I wouldn’t a bothered with the niceties.”
“This would be such a pretty sight without that dirty, hairy hole. Thankfully, I can fix these things.”
“And even if you don’t need much in the way of aftercare, I do. If you could just let me know, for my own peace of mind, that I didn’t go too far and I’m not actually a terrible person, I would appreciate it.”
“People forget that CEO is just a hat like any other. Same with sub and Dom and top and bottom… I mean, when did people stop asking which hat they wanted to wear today? This hour? This minute?”
I wait for it and am not disappointed. “You… you’re… hairy!” “Baby, I’m Italian.” His glare could start a forest fire, and I wink back. “Don’t be shy. Get all the way in there. My hairy hole isn’t going to rim itself.”
“I am not small.” “Oh, Mr. Billionaire, you’re so big.” I snort, shaking my head at him. “I told you to stop listening to the men you paid to fuck you. But don’t worry. Your cock is sufficient. Like a training cock until I need something with a little more heft to it.”
“Good boy. Now lube up your pinky finger. That’s all I’ll need for that small cock of yours.”
He palms my jaw, bringing me in for another secretive kiss. “Yeah. Mi sono innamorato di te.” My heart pounds in my chest. Innamorato is a love word. “Did you say that you’re falling in love with me?” “Fallen. Past tense. I know it’s too soon, but—” I touch my fingers to his lips, smiling so wide it almost hurts. “I’m past tense with you too.”


This is what happens when you don’t have enough people willing to say no to your face.
When he turns to open the refrigerator, I get the full view of his thick, muscular glutes in my joggers. I’m not a religious man, but God, do I want to worship at the altar of his ass.
I shoot him the finger, which cracks him up. He pokes my chest. “See, you’ve got a little Brooklyn in you too.” I’d like to have a lot of Brooklyn in me, thank you very much.
He’s in a shitty mood, and I don’t need him accusing me of jealousy. I mean, I’m clearly jealous, but that’s none of his fucking business.
“Are you threatening me?” Joe closes the distance. “I am absolutely threatening you. Just like Rand, I learned at the feet of my father. The most important thing he taught me, Mr. Wolfe, is that there are a great many things worse than death. And when I’m protecting Rand, I am capable of all of them.”