Possessive Brazilian: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 75)

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Possessive Brazilian: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 75) Page 1

by Flora Ferrari




  POSSESSIVE BRAZILIAN

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 75

  FLORA FERRARI

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series

  Possessive Brazilian

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Series

  Newsletter

  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

  Book 50: Brother’s Best Friend

  Book 51: Possessive Professor

  Book 52: Firefighter’s Babysitter

  Book 53: Soldier’s Secret Baby

  Book 54: Ward’s Independence Day

  Book 55: Doctor Next Door

  Book 56: Possessive Policeman

  Book 57: Coached by the MMA Fighter

  Book 58: Boss’s Babysitter

  Book 59: Virgin in New York

  Book 60: Rock Star’s Baby

  Book 61: Possessive Protector

  Book 62: Possessive Australian

  Book 63: Best Friend’s Brother

  Book 64: Possessive Cowboy

  Book 65: Summer Romanced

  Book 66: Possessive Prince

  Book 67: Lovers’s Enemy

  Book 68: Cop’s Best Friend

  Book 69: Possessive Firefighter

  Book 70: Football Next Door

  Book 71: Doctor December

  Book 72: Possessive Canadian

  Book 73: Blue Collar Billionaire

  Book 74: Possessive K-9 Cop

  Book 75: Possessive Brazilian

  POSSESSIVE BRAZILIAN

  Possessive Brazilian is an understatement.

  The first time I heard about machismo, possessiveness, jealousy, and obsession and how prevalent it can be in Latin romance, I thought it was just an exaggeration.

  But when I have my first hands-on, unwanted experience the first time my company sends me to Brazil I see that it’s no exaggeration at all.

  And neither is the bulge in the Speedo of the older man who comes to my rescue and tells the younger man my age “hands off” before taking matters into his own hands.

  Violence isn’t my thing, but neither are grabby guys. And when that older man throws out the pervy perpetrator for not knowing how to treat a lady I have to admit I’m really relieved…and totally turned on by this possessive alpha male.

  And when this possessive Brazilian tells me right away that I’m his I’m not sure it’s a case of déjà vu and I should grab my luggage and run right back to the airport, or grab him and for the first time in my life tell this real man that he’s mine too.

  And the more I see that he’s a real man who knows what he wants, and what he wants is me, I realize for the first time I’m ready to give him what I’ve been saving up all these years for one man and one man only.

  But I didn’t come down here looking for a Brazilian romance. I came here for work, and to look for another man that doesn’t even know I exist. My dad.

  But can I find my father while my possessive Brazilian is telling me he wants to be the father of my children? Or will my attempts turn futile when my possessive alpha male wonders why this younger woman is looking for another older man when he thought all along that we only had eyes for each other?

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

  NEWSLETTER

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  CHAPTER 1

  Vitor

  “I said. Take. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Her.”

  I’ve been training and competing in Brazilian jiu-jitsu, boxing, Muay Thai, Judo, Shotokan, and a whole laundry list of other martial arts most people couldn’t even pronounce, let alone survive one second in, since I was five.

  And if this prick wants to live to see another day he better take his hands off this guest, my guest, at my hotel, here in Búzios, just over a hundred miles northwest of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

  I’m thirty-five now that gives me a thirty year head start on kicking this guy’s ass and showing him if you so much as give a woman an unwanted glance that makes her uncomfortable
, and I see it or hear about it, you’ll have to deal with me.

  I don’t wait for women to complain. I do the “complaining” for them and I don’t do it with my mouth.

  I do it with my fists.

  But I always give the other person one chance to rectify their behavior real quick, assuming it wasn’t so far out of line that I have to take action immediately.

  I competed in mixed martial arts, or MMA as it’s known, for a living. I’m literally a lethal weapon and I’m not afraid to utilize everything I’ve learned over the years to do damage to a man who doesn't respect women.

  The man’s head turns, because no other parts of his body can. I’ve got my hand in a white-knuckle grip around his arm and can literally control his body’s entire movements like a puppet.

  And this clown better give me the answer I want.

  And speaking of answers, how is this beautiful woman who just arrived at the poolside going to answer when I tell her she’s mine?

  But in all honesty she won’t have to because it’s not a question. I’m going to show her I’m the only man for her. To win her hand and the second I do I’m going to put a ring on it and wife her up. Make her mine forever and get to work on putting babies inside that belly of hers.

  She may have a wrap, or sarong, or whatever those things are called that women wear over the top of their swimsuits on, but I can see through that transparent white fabric right down to her luscious curves.

  And does she ever have curves.

  I’m six foot four and I fight in the heavyweight division. To say I’m a big guy is a huge understatement. And I’ve got more testosterone in my little finger than most guys have in their entire family tree. And that means she’s got to be ready for the constant desire I’m going to have for her.

  Part of my training is being celibate and setting up camp in the middle of nowhere to avoid any and all distractions. I’ve been doing it my entire life and although each time I win a big fight, and I’ve won them all, women are literally throwing themselves at me.

  But the minute I’m out of the ring I’m right back into my relaxation and get-away-from-it-all place here in Búzios.

  Those stupid gossip mags have been trying to track me down for years, but they were never able to.

  Now that my career is over I’ve turned my knowledge of Búzios into an all-inclusive luxury resort and spa.

  And we’ve got some of the biggest celebrities and business owners from all over the world coming here, but none have ever been as important to me as her.

  And I can’t explain why, but the moment I laid eyes on her it was like a kick to the gut.

  That’s never happened to me before. Never.

  Most women are all the same to me…trying to latch onto my celebrity status or money. I can see right through it.

  But when it comes to her I see something real. I can see an honest, genuine person behind those blue eyes of hers.

  I see a woman who has no idea who I am other than some guy who’s probably terrifying her and coming to her defense all at the same moment.

  And that’s exactly what I’m going to do forever when I make her mine.

  The man mumbles something and his hand comes off her arm, but mine isn’t about to come off his as I escort him to the exit.

  I shove him out myself, making sure to do so close to the camera so he can’t come back and say I broke his bones or something and then hire some two-bit lawyer to come after me.

  I nod to my head of security, Royce, to nonverbally communicate to him that this guy’s never allowed back inside again.

  But inside is exactly where I go, right back to the pool to apologize to that perfect young woman for this man’s behavior and to assure her he will never bother her again.

  And invite her to dinner like a real gentleman in the process.

  I may have been a brute when it came to fighting, but around people I’m all about respect and making sure they feel safe and have a good time without any preconceived notions, not that I’ve had much experience entertaining anyone other than MMA journalists over the years. And of course well over ninety percent of them are men and when a woman was around I always went out in mixed groups just to avoid waking up to any sort of fake hookup news the next morning.

  Hooking up is that last thing I want to do.

  I want something real and I want it with her.

  And I want to know her name. To hear the sweet sound spill off her lips like honey off a honey dipper.

  And I want to do a whole lot more than dip into her sweetness.

  I want everything. Her mind. Her soul. And her body.

  Just like what I put into my training all these years…every single ounce of myself.

  And that’s exactly what I’m going to put into making her mine.

  I’m the kind of guy who’s all in or nothing, and the second I step into the pool area and my eyes dart over to her chair I immediately realize nothing is exactly what I have.

  As in she’s gone. Nowhere to be seen.

  My eyes shoot right over towards the cocktail bar. Not there.

  My eyes circle around to the towel kid. He’s sitting on a bench waiting to provide our guests with service.

  I look in the water.

  Not her, and I don’t need much time to determine that.

  I’ve seen her once and the sight of her is branded into my permanent memory. She may have had that wrap on but I know she had on a navy blue bathing suit, quite a few shades darker than her eyes, that went perfect with those blonde locks that flowed from her pretty little head like autumn wheat in the wind.

  “I checked the area boss. He came by himself,” one of my other security guards, Thiago, says.

  “Where’s the girl?”

  “She’s…” Tiago says scanning the area. “I’m not sure, sir. Should I find her?”

  I turn and stare at Thiago like my eyes are throwing darts at him.

  “On it, sir,” he says and disappears into the crowd of vacationers.

  I run through a quick checklist of places she might have gone. It’s unlikely she slipped out the back, and I doubt she paid just to use the pool.

  Which means she’s a guest. Which means she’s my guest. Which means she’s still here.

  Which means I will find her, no matter what it takes.

  A woman like that only walks into your life once and only a complete fool would give her so much as a chance to walk right out of it.

  And I’m no fool. Although I swear the thought of losing her is making my head spin.

  But I will find her if it’s the last thing I do.

  CHAPTER 2

  Vera

  The second my door opens I slip inside, shut the door, and slide behind the door my back pressing against it as I reach down and flip the deadbolt just to make sure no one gets inside.

  Leaning against the door I feel the iron chain causing me to flip around and fasten that as well.

  My back finds the door again as my eyes close and my fingers steeple as I breathe out hard into the open space in between my hands as the point where the tips of my two index fingers meet comes to rest right between my eyes as my head leans forward.

  “One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand,” I say as I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.

  I’d heard Latin men could be very machismo and dominant in their courting rituals, but that was next level.

  That first guy just grabbed my arm and told me to come swim with him. My eyes immediately told him no, but apparently like many men he’s not exactly an expert on non-verbal communication or sudden and extreme changes in body language and he simply took my slightly shocked, and more so scared shitless, look as an indicator that he simply needed to try harder.

  And was his body ever big and hard. And what was up with his ears? I remember reading about something called “Cauliflower ear” that guys who wrestle for long stretches of their life develop. He definitely seemed to have that, but even though he was
big and scary he was no match for the second guy.

  He was ripped and buff, but in a way that made it look like his body was used as more than just a punching bag or a place to inject needles full of steroids.

  And what was the second guy? Maybe six foot three? Six four? Maybe six five?

  I’m terrible with numbers to start with and especially when I’m sitting down and that guy was hulking over me to the point he was blocking out the sun…as in all of it.

  It was like a cloud came by and took away all the sun where I was sitting, and I would have felt a cooling in the air if it wasn’t for the way he made me feel so hot inside.

  What’s wrong with me?

  I hate violence, but something about the way he handled that other guy was just…so damn hot!

  I shake my head from side to side and my butt pushes off the door as I walk into the bathroom to splash water on my face.

 

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