Steamy

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by Flora Ferrari




  STEAMY

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 49

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series

  Steamy

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Series

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2018 by Flora Ferrari.

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  Book 1: Baby Lust

  Book 2: Veteran

  Book 3: Built

  Book 4: Bambino

  Book 5: Rescued

  Book 6: Leader

  Book 7: Professor

  Book 8: Burned

  Book 9: Worldly

  Book 10: Pistol

  Book 11: Policed

  Book 12: Driven

  Book 13: Lucky 13

  Book 14: Lumberjacked

  Book 15: Protector

  Book 16: Carpenter

  Book 17: Italian Stallion

  Book 18: Gardener

  Book 19: Budapest Billionaire’s Virgin

  Book 20: Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 21: Cocky CFO

  Book 22: Fireman’s Filthy 4th

  Book 23: Mechanic

  Book 24: SEAL’s Secret

  Book 25: Police, Pooch, and Smooch

  Book 26: Fireman’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 27: Billionaire’s Virgin Ballerina

  Book 28: Bitcoin Billionaire’s Babysitter

  Book 29: Veterans Day Daddy

  Book 30: Cowboy’s Christmas Carol

  Book 31: Police Officer’s Princess

  Book 32: Statham

  Book 33: Bodyguard

  Book 34: Greek God

  Book 35: Billionaire Single Dad's Babysitter

  Book 36: Mountain Man

  Book 37: SEAL’s Justice

  Book 38: Royal Romance

  Book 39: Doctor Mountain Man’s Special Delivery

  Book 40: Crocodile Dan D

  Book 41: Mountain Man’s Secret Baby

  Book 42: Doctor Bad Boy’s Secret Baby

  Book 43: Cop’s Babysitter

  Book 44: Nanny for the Cop Next Door

  Book 45: Small Town SEAL’s Saving Grace

  Book 46: Cop’s Fake Fiancée

  Book 47: Billionaire’s Nanny

  Book 48: Cowboy’s Babysitter

  Book 49: Steamy

  STEAMY

  Steamy older man Sergio is all this younger woman has ever dreamed of for the last seven years. His rock hard muscles, sultry bedroom eyes, and steamy looks have this American woman saving her first time for an Italian romance with him and only him.

  As a personal assistant just out of college and the boss’s daughter I need a real man, not a series of dull dates with boisterous boys and clueless, clumsy coeds desperately seeking a girlfriend.

  This gorgeous geologist is a magician of the mountains, an artist of the earth, and an engineering alpha. And in doing so he’s become my dad’s best friend and right-hand man.

  With shoulders like boulders, abs of steel, and a sculpted chest this big city man’s got this small town woman knowing it’s time to bypass the boyfriend / girlfriend stage and go straight to the baby making phase.

  When this possessive alpha male calls me “baby girl” I know I need him to be my baby daddy, taking my virginity and in return giving me a baby girl of my very own.

  *Steamy is an insta-everything standalone romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

  CHAPTER 1

  Stella

  Every muscle in his arms and upper body tightens and flexes as he drives the shovel into the dirt.

  The corny coffee mug with the slogan on the front that reads, “Don’t expect perfection from a geologist. They all have their faults,” falls from my hands as I take in the sight of him getting sweatier and his shirt sticking to his muscles more and more by the second.

  The coffee spills off the side of my desk managing to miss my skirt, but it doesn’t matter. It’s already soaked.

  Despite the air conditioner, that’s hooked up to our little makeshift trailer at the worksite we’re on, being set to meat locker levels of chill I feel like I’m burning up.

  He buries the shovel into the earth again and a bead of perspiration streams down his face landing on his white shirt which is quickly becoming transparent from the sweat on those two tectonic plates that are his chest muscles.

  It takes everything I have not to push through the door right now and throw my body against his. Spring is mating season for a reason and my hormones are definitely in overdrive.

  But there’s no way I can do that. No way no how. He’s my dad’s best friend and I’m just some undersexed twenty-two year old virgin. Yeah, undersexed as in completely undersexed.

  Sergio’s Italian. He came over from Milan to work for my dad seven years ago and he’s all that I’ve ever thought of since. And I’m definitely thinking of him right now.

  One of my favorite Italians words is sprezzatura. I picked it up right after he came over and I promptly downloaded every Italian language-learning app to my phone and ordered five hundred dollars worth of Italian learning audio CDs from Amazon. Sprezzatura is a certain nonchalance, so as to conceal all art and make whatever one does or says appear to be without effort and almost without any thought about it.

  He definitely has the nonchalance part down, but with him there’s no concealment. It’s truly just who he is. And speaking of concealing, in about five or ten more minutes in this hot sun that shirt is going to be soaked and there’s going to be no concealing those muscles of his any longer.

  Muscles that a real man has. The kind that are made through real physical work and not pushing plates in some gym for thirty dollars a month somewhere. The kind of thick, hard muscles that a man gets as he becomes a real man. They say a man’s physical strength peaks at twenty-seven or twenty-eight? He’s five years past that and he hasn’t lost a step.

  But it’s not just his muscles. My dad hired him for his mind. The world is his ball of clay and he’s able to mold it and shape it in ways most people couldn’t even imagine. He can make it sing, producing enough natural gas to run entire countries. And he can make it dance, working with architects to build the most elaborate homes in areas that would seem impossible. Architectural Record featured him on the cover twice last year alone. He laid the plans for a hundred million dollar house to be built on the edge of a sloping canyon where no one said it was possible. Then a month later he built an glass bottom soccer stadium in Brazil one hundred feet above the ground, using living trees as the foundation. He’s a true genius and visionary.

  And right now I can’t stop from envisioning him taking me any which way he wants, not that I don’t have mo
re than a few ideas myself.

  I hear the coffee continuing to drip off the edge of the table, but I can’t be bothered to clean it up right now. My eyes are glued to him.

  I still remember the first time I saw him. My dad picked him up from the airport and brought him home to our small town in the middle of nowhere. I was fifteen and just really getting into boys at the time, and then my entire world got flipped upside down. Why consider boys when there are men? Especially when there are men like him. But the longer he lived in our family’s guest room and the more I got to know him the more I knew there weren’t other men like him. He was one-of-a-kind. A gem just like the stones he knows so much about.

  When I hit eighteen I begged my dad to let me work for his company, but he insisted that I go away to college to get my education. Four long years away from Sergio. I tried to enjoy myself, but when it’s one in the morning and you’re either studying in the dorms or at some party where you don’t want to be with people acting so immaturely everywhere your mind can’t help but wander and mine always wandered to him.

  When boys attempted their weak pick-up lines at two in the morning after they’d downed enough liquid courage to actually start approaching girls I couldn’t help but compare their words to his. He had the best pickup line in history. “Hi, I’m Sergio from Italy. It’s nice to meet you young lady.” Nothing more. Nothing less. Not fancy, but oh so eloquent. No pick-up line, opener, or hello has ever come close. The way he towered over me, but tried to lean down a bit to get on my level as those beautiful eyes of his fixated right on mine. “Where are your manners, Stella?” my dad had asked after I have no idea how much time had elapsed without a response from me. My mouth was definitely open, wide open at that, but the words just wouldn’t come out.

  And oh how I’m still thinking of coming out of this trailer right now and jumping his bones. But I’m not even sure if he’s that kind of guy. He certainly has the body for some hot, rugged action, but I’ve never even seen him go out on a date. He’s more involved in his work and charity work that he does. He’s the complete package.

  He pulls the shovel from the dirt and bends over scooping up a handful of the dirt he’s just turned over before examining it. He grabs the shovel by the shaft and walks over toward the trailer. He leans the shovel against the trailer and my eyes continue watching him. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. I watch as his mouth moves in response. Those big, strong lips of his that never seem to chap no matter how much time he spends outside. They’re always just so perfect and so kissable looking. I don’t know how he does it.

  I watch as he puts the phone back in his pocket and runs his forearm over his forehead trying to remove the sweat. He moves sideways towards the door and a second later I hear three loud raps against the thin aluminum paneled slab of wood.

  The coffee is a complete mess and so am I. I’m sweating all over now and somehow all the wiggling around in my chair has caused my skirt to hike half-way up my waist.

  I shoot up out of my chair and try and straighten myself out.

  “Just a second,” I say.

  I spin about twenty paper towels from the roll and wipe up the mess as quickly as I can before pulling off two more paper towels and dabbing my face.

  I take a deep breath in and walk over to the door wondering why he’s come to my trailer. Maybe he’s here to congratulate me on graduating from college. We haven’t seen each other in four long years. And if that’s the case he doesn’t even need to bring a gift because I’m the one who’s got the gift for him. My virginity.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sergio

  I feel my forearm twitching even though I’m doing my best to play it cool. I even dug in the dirt outside her window before approaching her trailer before I knocked. It served two purposes. I didn’t want to sneak up on her in case she was in the middle of something and more importantly it gave me a minute to calm down before I showed up. I’m not one to get nervous. Never. I work with heads of state, rich people, and all kinds of powerful men and women. I do my best at my job and my work has fortunately attracted the best in the world in terms of clients.

  But this is no business call. At least it wasn’t supposed to be that way.

  “Hey Sergio. Great to see you,” she says opening the door.

  “Great to see you, Stella. You look incredible.” Stay cool, Sergio. Stay cool.

  But incredible doesn’t even start to describe how amazing she looks. I haven’t seen her since her high school graduation. I still remember that white dress she wore. The smell of her perfume. The way she pulled her hair up and back to the side. Not even Sophia Loren, our national icon, ever looked so stunning on her best day.

  But that was four torturous years ago. Four years without ever seeing her face. All I could do those last four years was remove the picture from that day that I kept in a secret compartment in my wallet and look at it. And that’s what I’ve done about a hundred times a day.

  But now she’s here, in the flesh, standing in front of me.

  I feel my pulse quicken even more and my nostrils flare as I need more air. Just looking at her standing there in her skirt, high heels, and blouse has me feeling lightheaded. I’m already this hard at the sight of her bare legs imagine what would happen if she had on a sleeveless blouse…or less. As sexy as that sounds if there was another man onsite right now I’d want to cover her up and order anyone else on the team to look away. She’s mine and only mine.

  Thinking about her all these years had me beyond worked up every minute of every day since she left. Seeing her now is pushing me towards the edge. I could only imagine if I ran a finger along her skin our put my lips on hers.

  God, she’s become a beautiful young woman. I still remember that cute kid I met the first day her father brought me home. You could tell she was going to be a pretty woman one day and that one day came. But I was mistaken. She wasn’t pretty, she was the prettiest. The most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

  And I wanted her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I’ve been celibate for so damn long. Haven’t been with a woman since arriving in the United States. It’s not why I came here. I came her to “make it in America” as the saying goes. And in order to do that I had to honor her father’s trust that he gave me by sponsoring me to come over. And with his help I’ve not only “made it in America,” but I’ve become the most famous geologist in the world working on projects as diverse as geothermal energy to helping architects build the world’s most interesting homes in cohesion with challenging local terrains.

  And as much as that’s been my dream ever since I was a little boy playing with my pet rock and then stacking rocks in the backyard to make a fort for my G.I. Joe action figures, I realize now that success in your chosen occupation isn’t the end all be all of life.

  It’s not even close.

  Not with a want this strong. It’s not even a want. It’s a need.

  I need her and I’ll get her. Without her everything I’ve done would be a failure. All this success and not having the only woman I want to share it with? None of it will matter.

  But once I make her mine everything will make sense.

  I’d had my chances to leave. After a few years here I’d been offered more money and more opportunities with other firms. I could even start my own firm with all the money I’ve made. But where I’m from in Italy we’re loyal. It runs in our blood and blood is thicker than water and more valuable than all the gold in Fort Knox. I had no desire to go back to the big city life. My heart was here in this small town. It’s the town where she’s from, and where I want to be as long as I know she’ll be by my side.

  And now that she’s finally back from university it’s my chance to make that happen.

  And all those years she was gone my desire, obsession and possessiveness for her has done nothing but get stronger. Before her I never had time for women, and after her graduation day I knew I’d never have time for women again. I’d only have time for one woma
n. Her and her alone.

  I don’t even know if she went off and got a boyfriend at college. I don’t care if she did. Now that she’s an adult and she’s back here I’m not going to waste anytime sweeping her off her feet. There will be no competition because I’m going to do whatever it takes to show her I’m the man for her.

  And part of showing her is letting her know just how serious I am. Letting her know as soon as possible that I want nothing more than to make her mine forever so we can start a family of our own. I’m tired of jerking off to her like a fiend every damn morning and night in the shower. I want to bury my dick so far inside her and come so deep she gets pregnant the first time we’re together. There’s no point in waiting when you know what you want in life and I know exactly what I want. Her.

  And I’ve waited long enough.

  CHAPTER 3

  Stella

  Even though I’d known him for seven years it was strange to actually be here now speaking with him. It made me realize we’d never actually had a full-on conversation before. We’d talked briefly at my graduation party when he congratulated me, and shared plenty of “hellos” and “goodbyes” and “how’s your days” over the years, but never a real conversation. He was usually rushing out to work or I was coming or going to school. Plus he was with my dad so often so it’s not like I could really approach him about how I was starting to feel about him back then in high school, plus I was too young and still figuring things out then, even though I knew at the time. I was just so young I wanted to be sure. The minute I moved out and went away for school I knew right away. The sinking feeling in my chest of him not being there was enough to let me know I’d made the wrong decision, but there was no turning back then.

 

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