Texting The Tattooist Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
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Speeder’s head follows the motion. Killian looks over his shoulder, smiling at me, pride in his eyes.

“She’s right, ma’am,” Killian says. “I’m sorry. He thinks everything is a toy when he’s in certain moods.”

I don’t want to say the next bit, but I can tell Mom’s still freaked from the way she’s eyeing Speeder.

“I think I’ll go with you to your room, Mom, okay?”

“Just don’t let him near me.”

I suppress a sigh. This process isn’t going to be as quick for her as it’s been for me.

She doesn’t have the soothing balm of Killian’s touch, his closeness, all the fierceness between us.

The knowledge that we’re going to be together forever.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Killian says. “I’ll take him for a walk and let him burn off some energy. It’s been a crazy day.”

Killian turns to me and steps forward…

It’s like he’s going to kiss me. I wish it was possible for him to grab me, kiss me hard, guide me into the bedroom, and pick up where we left off.

But at the same time, a cowardly part of me – the part still in the cocoon – is relieved Mom gave us this distraction.

I saw how huge he was, his massive cock throbbing, his size unbelievable.

Killian realizes kissing me now, in front of Mom, probably isn’t the best idea.

He backs off and turns, scratching Speeder on the top of the head.

“Come on, boy.”

I can hear the tension in my man’s voice, the tightness in it, like he wants nothing more than to keep doing what we were doing and keep his body close to mine.

Once they’re gone, I approach Mom.

“Are you taking another pill?” I ask.

She stands, shaking her head. “I was going to the bathroom. I guess it’s a habit to carry them with me sometimes. And then that dog just started barking and… I used to love dogs once. I wouldn’t have collapsed like that, started to cry, to scream. Oh, Mia….”

I pull her into my arms, finding it difficult to go from the lust-filled closeness with Killian to being the loving daughter. But the pain in my Mom’s voice is enough motivation to hug her warmly, to softly whisper that everything’s going to be okay.

She wraps her arms around me, clinging on tightly.

“It’s okay,” I whisper again. “We’re going to get you the help you need.”

Her grip tightens against me.

“We can’t afford it.”

We can. Killian has offered to help.

I almost tell her this, but something holds me back.

I know Killian feels the same. I know he wasn’t lying when he said he wanted a family together, kids, everything.

But I also know Mom would think I’m going insane.

“We’re going to get you help,” I say firmly. “I promise.”

One way or another, I’ll sort it out.

In Mom’s room, she falls asleep in my arms, leaving me one free hand with which to text.

It’s late now. The sun has set, and my body settled down after the closeness with Killian.

I’m sorry. Mom’s asleep. I think I should stay here with her. It’s been a big day for everybody.

I don’t have to wonder if part of me is using that as an excuse. As Killian walked Speeder, it gave me time to think about what would’ve happened if Mom didn’t interrupt us.

Would I have been able to go all the way and give Killian what he wanted?

It’s okay, he replies, texting from just a few rooms over, probably with Speeder curled up next to him. I won’t lie. I want you badly. But I respect how much you care about your family. And I can see how badly your Mom needs help. I meant what I said. I’m happy to provide that help… to provide everything for you, Mia, to provide you with the sort of life you deserve.

I can’t just quit my job, I reply. I can’t just tell you, Hey, Killian, you’ve got to bankroll me now.

It’s not bankrolling you when you have a dream, he texts. And also… yes, you can do all of that. You will because your man is telling you to. Your man is ordering you, you sassy, beautiful butterfly, to quit that customer-service job and focus on your editing.

My heart flutters quickly, dreams tempting me, singing to me.

What made you want to become an editor? he texts a moment later.

I smile as I imagine him worrying about the conversation coming to an end. My body is still sore from what we did, in the best way, my sex aching as if begging for more.

He wants me, both physically and emotionally.

But I can’t fixate on the physical with Mom in my arms.

I remember reading this series of books when I was a kid. They were amazing fantasy stories. In the back of one of them, the author thanked her editor. I didn’t even know what it was. So I did some research. And the idea just called to me, like you called to me, and I called you.


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