Hold Him Like Gravity (Lombardi Famiglia #4) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Lombardi Famiglia Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
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Rico dropped down on the couch next to me, pulling me back until my legs were draped over his lap and my head was rested against his shoulder.

His one arm draped across my hips. The other hand was holding the back of my neck, keeping me against him as if I had any intention of moving away.

I knew that the ugly realities of my life would come flooding back sooner than I wanted. I was going to let myself enjoy this for the short time that it lasted.

I sat there listening to the sound of Rico’s heartbeat and getting surrounded by woodsmoke and cigars, praying that the scent was all over me even after he left.

It was all just so… comforting. So cozy.

I was asleep before I was even aware of how tired I was.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Rico

I hugged Kick closer, then slowly lowered her down onto her side on the couch so I could get up.

Dragging my pants back up, I made my way down the hall and into the bathroom, cleaning up, then making my way into Kick’s bedroom to grab the covers off of her bed.

She’d been out cold on me for a solid half an hour before I moved and I hoped that if I could keep her warm, she would stay asleep and get the rest she so desperately needed.

“Hey, bud,” I greeted Evander who watched me cover up Kick from his position on the counter. “She didn’t feed you, huh?” I asked, walking over to scratch his head. “Listen, if I feed you, will you let her sleep?” I asked as I started to look through the cabinets until I found the little metal cans of food.

He watched me as I emptied it into his bowl, then stared up at me expectantly. “Oh, right. The milk,” I said, going into the fridge to get it, giving it a sniff, then pouring some into the other side of his bowl. “Heard you’ve been nicer to her lately,” I said as he ate. My own gaze slipped to the couch where Kick hadn’t moved an inch, her burgundy hair slightly covering her face, her lips parted in sleep. “I get it,” I added.

I expected to feel, I don’t know, done. Like I’d been thinking leading up to this. That I would fuck her out of my system, then I could move on. Stop obsessing about her. Stop picturing stupid shit like buying a new condo, one with extra bedrooms for kids, with enough room for a dining room that could seat us all.

“Christ,” I sighed as the cat finished his milk then started to clean himself.

I needed to get home, get some sleep myself. See if a little distance could make me more clear-headed.

Though some part of me was struggling to make my way to the door. Even if I knew it was the best for both of us.

What we had was fun.

But we both needed to move on now.

“Let her sleep, okay, man? She needs this,” I told Evander before locking the door, then making my way out.

Every step away from her apartment felt wrong as fuck. But I forced my legs to keep carrying me. Out of the building. Onto the street.

I spotted two guys hanging out a few buildings down and had the most insane urge to walk over there and beat their faces in on the off chance that they might want to break into Kick’s apartment.

And on that fucking crazy note, I walked my ass the whole way home in the cold. Which did jack-shit to chill the feelings I felt growing for Kick.

“Well, well, well,” Bass said as soon as I was inside the apartment, flicking on the lamp to reveal him sitting there with a drink in his hand.

“The fuck you doing sitting there like some mom waiting on her teenager out past curfew?”

“And where have you been, young man?” Bastian asked, a smirk tugging at his lips as I made myself a drink and moved to drop down on the couch. I saw him take a breath, and the light spark in his eyes. “Smelling like blueberries all over,” he said.

“Don’t.”

“Hey, it’s good, man. You’ve been wound like a fucking top. Can’t be good to go that long without a fuck.”

“Man, it’s been, what? A week or so since you moved in?”

“As an expert in going without sex, man, I feel like a week is too long. So, the fuck you doing home?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked as I sipped my whiskey, praying it did something to slow my swirling thoughts. All of ‘em involving Kick.

“Been mooning over this chick since before I got out. Figured if you finally sealed the deal, you’d be spending the night at least. Weekend. Month. Let me have this place all to myself,” he said, waving around the apartment. “Though, I’d have to take down all this art.”



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