Possessive Valentine (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 95)
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POSSESSIVE VALENTINE
AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
_______________________
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 95
FLORA FERRARI
CONTENTS
Copyright
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
Possessive Valentine
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
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Series
Newsletter
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2019 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
Book 76: Hockey Obsession
Book 77: Possessive Boston Irish American MMA Fighter
Book 78: Halloween Next Door
Book 79: Possessive Russian
Book 80: Baseball Mine
Book 81: Cop’s Caribbean Captive
Book 82: Instalove Island
Book 83: Dad’s Best Friend
Book 84: Thanksgiving with Dad’s Boss
Book 85: Possessive Italian Neighbor
Book 86: Possessive Portuguese
Book 87: Possessive Christmas Cop
Book 88: Russian’s Obsession
Book 89: Possessive Doctor’s Christmas
Book 90: Possessive Parisian Pilot
Book 91: U.K. Boxing Day
Book 92: Jealous Russian Stalker
Book 93: Italian Mountain Man
Book 94: Aggressive Russian
Book 95: Possessive Valentine
POSSESSIVE VALENTINE
A matchmaker service for Valentine’s Day?
Hardly romantic.
Except when the owner is the modern day version of cupid himself, and the only man I’ve ever loved.
Oh, and my brother’s best friend to boot.
When this younger woman makes my intentions for this older man known will he give me the boot, telling me to get lost?
Or will he kick every other part of his life to the curb, telling me I’m the only one for him, and that any man who messes with me will get a boot in his behind, as we stand side-by-side, forever?
*Possessive Valentine is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
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CHAPTER 1
Valentina
I grab the bottom of my miniskirt and tug it down. Looking sexy is what I’m going for, not cheap.
Italian Introductions, the sign says over the door of the entrance to the high-end commercial office I’m standing in front of. I never thought I’d be using a matchmaking service to find a guy…and I’m not.
I’m here for one man and one man only.
My brother’s best friend.
It’s not that San Diego doesn’t have plenty of options for a woman who’s twenty years old. There are businessmen, athletes, surfers, hippies, and even guys who own vineyards not far away in Temecula.
But none of them own my heart the way he does.
Valentino Valentine. His name sounds like something only a publicist in Los Angeles could come up with, but it’s his god given name…and god is he ever the only man I’ve ever wanted.
And
with a name like that, and the deep booming baritone and chiseled body to match, he’s been my Valentine ever since I knew what it really meant to love somebody.
The only problem? He has no idea.
But that’s all about to change. I’m here to show him that I’m not just his best friend’s little sister anymore. I’m my own woman. I can stand on my own two feet, although I’d be more than happy to be swept off them and to find myself flat on my back at the snap of those long, thick, fingers of his.
“Here goes nothing,” I exhale hard.
I straighten my back and lift my high heel up off the parking lot pavement and onto the sidewalk as I march up to the front door.
It takes more strength than I expected to pull back the handle on the thick glass door before I quickly slide inside the small opening I made.
“Good afternoon. Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist says, one eyebrow raised so high it’s practically taking up half of her forehead.
“I’m here to see Mr. Valentine,” I say. Her eyes run up and down my body in a very unapproving way. I want to yell out, “Hey bitch, just because I’m showing off a bit of skin doesn’t mean I’m easy in the least bit. As a matter of fact I’m as difficult as they come…difficult as in no one’s ever seen what’s underneath these clothes. Difficult as in never been kissed. Difficult as in if you make this tough for me I’ll show you how difficult I can make your afternoon.”
“Mr. Valentine isn’t able to accept walk-ins I’m afraid.”
And I’m afraid I’m going to walk these uncomfortable as hell stilettos all over your face if you don’t quit looking at me that way.
She pops her gum as if that’s the auditory cue that my bubble has been burst.
But I don’t give up that easily.
“Well, I can just wait on him,” I say, looking over at the Eames Italian swivel chair and ottoman in rosewood and black leather. The design is classic Italian, a masterpiece from the old country, just like him.
“He won’t be in the rest of the day,” she says, starting to become even more visibly annoyed by my presence.
And then he graces me with his…
“It’s okay, Bamber,” a deep voice says just before a custom suited man walks through the doorway of the adjacent room holding a small espresso cup in his hand.
Bamber?
But I don’t care about Bambi, or Thumper, or whatever the heck her name is. All I care about is him…Valentino.
He sips from the cup as he drinks in the sight of me from head to toe.
“She’s a friend,” he says.
Friend. The word makes the beads of sweat trickling down my breasts and the chills racing down my spine freeze. I hate the word he uses to describe me.
I clench my teeth and run my eyes across his lightweight Italian wool suit…the one that he probably doesn’t even have to visit the tailor to get fitted for. I can literally imagine him saying something ridiculous like, “Just take the measurements from Michelangelo’s David and it should fit perfectly.”
Even with the suit on you can see his body looks like it’s been carved from marble, but not in the gross weightlifter, “Hey bro, can you stick this needle in my glute,” kind of way.
It’s not that he doesn’t play sports or lift weights, either. He was the striker for the San Diego State University soccer team while my brother was the goalkeeper. He was the Andrea Pirlo to my brother’s Gianluigi Buffon, at least that’s the comparisons to the Italian national soccer team that the fans liked to make, although to me he was absolutely incomparable.
I remember sitting in the stands watching him play. The way his tall, toned, sunkissed body moved across the field as he seemed to score at will…and I was here hoping that both of us could score in another way entirely.
My tongue feels heavy as it gets stuck in my mouth, unable to swallow and unable to speak.
I’ve wanted him for so long, and haven’t seen him since my high school graduation party.
At thirty-one he’s the perfect combination of masculinity, experience, and youth…and above all else he’s confident to the point of making my knees wobble just by looking at him, but not cocky in a way that would of course be a huge turn off.
Right now I’m as far from turned off as humanly possible. I feel my panties dampening with an alarming quickness, imagining him unzipping those pants and bending me over his desk, which is somewhere in this building. The thought of screaming so loud that not only Bamber hears it, from whatever forest she lives in, but also the tenants on on either side of Valentino’s office.
I don’t even care. I know he could please me to no end, and I know I wouldn’t be able to hold back. Hell, I’d relish in it. I may not know much more about sex than what the Internet can offer, but I know I’d gladly let loose so the whole world knew who was claiming me…and in doing so who was making me his and only his.
“We’ll be in my office,” he says without taking his eyes from me.
Everything in me wants to turn and give a condescending smirk back to Bamber, but I can’t take my eyes off him either, not that I would at this point.
There’s a bulge in his trousers that’s quickly lengthening and thickening. I feel my eyes flutter as I fight to keep them locked on his, wanting to watch his cock turn into a steel pole in real time.
But I resist.
As much as I want everything between us to happen right here and right now I have to remind myself I’m playing the long game here, not the short.
There are no victories in quick conquests. I want him forever, and as he extends his free hand towards the open door to what I presume is his office, I know that starts right here and right now.
CHAPTER 2
Valentino
My dick hardens like a steel pipe as she brushes by me while entering my office.
I had plans to leave early today, my espresso the energy pick me up I needed just before heading to the boxing gym where I train.
Gym visit cancelled.
Who needs it when I’m getting in a real life version of cardio right now that couldn’t be matched by an hour of going all out jumping rope, hitting the speed bag, or sparring?
Not to mention I’m taking all the punches I can handle right now…right to the gut.
I can barely fucking breathe at the sight of her.
What in the hell happened these past two years, and how did I miss it? Wait, it’s been two and a half years since I last saw her.
But don’t girls finish their growth spurts before the end of high school? Apparently she didn’t get the memo on that one, and neither did I…from her brother. No wonder he never invites her to the office. Maybe the bastard is keeping her away from me.
But she’s not mine. She can’t be.
Vincenzo and I have been best friends since we knew what the word meant, not to mention we’re Italian. In a world full of nonsense motivational quotes like “brotherhood” and “honor” and other words that get thrown around without meaning, the honor and brotherhood we share is very real.
We’re Italians, dammit. It means something.
But damn, I’ve never felt such a sense of purpose, someone who I saw and instantly meant so much to me, like I do right now with his little sister.
Fuck, this is wrong. She’s too damn young. I need to calm down right now, and remember that she’s practically family to me, even though I barely know her.
But do I ever want that to change.
I should send Bamber home right now and lock the front door…and lock Valentina to my desk for the rest of the afternoon, and into the evening.
How I ever want to hike up that skirt and see what’s underneath…bury my face in her lap while I lap up her sweet juices.
Valentina sits down and I continue standing, realizing I can’t bend at the waist right now. I’m stuck. No way I can sit down with this hard-on, but I don’t want her to see it either.
I walk around behind my desk and stand behind my chair, blocking my need for her.
She’s sitting perfectly upright, back as rigid as the chair in front of me. I can’t take my eyes from her and the way she’s become…a woman.
That short skirt. That white blouse that’s too open by one button. The way she sits there with confidence…and the way she’s trying to rattle mine, whether she knows it or not.
The thought of sending Bamber home for good crosses my mind. The last thing I need is another woman in my office when I have the only woman I need…my woman.
What the fuck? My woman? What’s gotten into my head?
The only reason I keep Bamber employed here is that the guys who come in can’t get enough of her. She’s like a business magnet for me, and worth every penny I pay her.
But these fools that come in here to ogle over her and sign up for our matchmaking service are missing the point entirely…money can’t buy the most important things in life.
I know. I’ve got bank accounts from San Diego to Switzerland…from Sorrento to Singapore, and everywhere in-between. Sure they buy a lot of comforts, but they can’t buy what every man truly wants if he’s being honest with himself…a feeling like this.