Lost And Found: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance

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Lost And Found: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Page 1

by Flora Ferrari




  CONTENTS

  Lost and Found

  NEWSLETTER

  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

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  Extra Extended Epliogue

  NEWSLETTER

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS

  BRATVA BEAR SHIFTERS

  LAIRDS & LADIES

  RUSSIAN UNDERWORLD

  IRISH WOLF SHIFTERS

  Collaborations

  About the Author

  LOST AND FOUND

  AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE

  _______________________

  A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 229

  FLORA FERRARI

  Copyright © 2021 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 and 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.

  LOST AND FOUND

  RACHEL

  Dad’s right. It’s not as if I have a date or anything. Not like I have plans for Valentine’s Day weekend.

  Who wouldn’t want to move instead? Moving upstate so my dad can start another job. His only daughter having to tag along because she has nothing else in her life.

  Nowhere else to go.

  But seriously, who moves in freaking February? It’s freezing cold out.

  I’d rather freeze my butt off than argue with my dad anyway, and heading out a chance meeting with a very different kind of stranger sees me suddenly hooked up with a Valentine after all.

  The four-legged lost dog variety. That’s his name, Valentine.

  He leads me to the perfect house in its own perfect little world. The neighborhood near ours but the one on the rich side of the city.

  The kind of house that’s owned by an equally perfect man.

  An older man, but hotter than hell from his hallway portrait and not one this curvy college graduate stands a chance with, I’m sure.

  Or would she?

  I’ve found what he’s been looking for. Brought back his lost dog.

  Do I have to beg for some kind of reward or is Mr. Right just gonna give this dog a bone like he knows she needs it.

  CONOR

  Another Valentine’s Day weekend.

  Another year I’m reminded how alone I am.

  Except for my dog who also just happens to be named Valentine.

  He appeared one Valentine’s Day a few years back, just there on my doorstep.

  But I need more. I’m an older guy, not getting any younger.

  With what others describe as ‘the world at my feet’ I only see it all as being a king without his queen.

  I know she’s out there, somewhere. And so does Valentine.

  When he runs away for the first time ever, I panic. I feel more lost than ever.

  Once I come home and see who’s brought him home, I wonder if he ran away or went out to find her.

  To bring her to me.

  She’s perfect, innocent. A younger woman, but curvy too.

  Just what I know I want, what I know I need.

  But how can I thank her for bringing me back my Valentine?

  How can I ever repay her kindness for finding him for me again?

  *Lost and Found is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Rachel

  I can feel my phone buzzing and chirping in my pocket. The thick puffy coat too hard to get into with these mittens on.

  I know who it is anyway, it’s my dad.

  Without even looking I know what he’s asking.

  Where are you?

  Don’t be late!

  You haven’t finished packing yet.

  I’m sorry…

  Blah, blah, blah.

  I haven’t even finished totally unpacking from college yet. It’s only been a few months and dad wants us to move upstate now so he can start his new job before spring.

  A tree change as well as a career move for him, a European design company has set up base outside of the city and offered dad a permanent job based on his previous work with them part-time from home

  A tree change for me too, because I can’t afford anything right now so living with my dad is my only option.

  “Not too many positions for English Lit. major’s huh dad?” I ask every chance I get.

  But the alternative doesn’t exist for me right now and finding any job this time of year is tough.

  But seriously, who the heck moves in February?

  Valentine’s Day weekend of all things.

  “It’s not like you have a date or anything, honey,” dad said, regretting it straight away.

  “Sorry, hun. But I… We need to get settled before starting at the new firm later next week,” he added, groaning aloud with an apology and reminding me the move isn’t all about just pissing me off.

  Still stinging from the reminder of my obvious lack of boyfriend or any romantic interest, I bit my tongue, grabbed my jacket, and walked out into the freezing afternoon.

  I always go for a walk rather than argue with dad. He’s got enough on his plate without me adding to his problems.

  It’s been an hour already, and although I’ve got my boots on I’m starting to notice my feet going numb.

  I should turn back, but I’m not ready to face dad yet. Not ready to even be reminded that this weekend, apart from having to move homes I’ll be experiencing my twentieth Valentine’s Day all alone again.

  Single.

  Unwanted and lonely.

  I watch my frosted breath puffing out as I try to orient myself.

  The street’s empty and the gray sky only offering the odd flake of white snow that gets whipped away by the chilling breeze.

  I stop and turn, feeling it again.

  I’ve felt eyes on me for a few blocks now since I left the house, but every time I turn my head I get the sense whoever it is ducks out of sight before I can get a look.

  Once I get to the next corner, I lean back against a wall and slowly peek around.

  The wind’s changed, blowing a gust of frigid air I hope doesn’t make the look of panic I feel on my face stay forever.

  The street’s empty but I do get a blast of the most delicious cologne I’ve ever smelled in my life.

  If whoever’s following me has this on, maybe I don’t mind at all.

  Maybe I want them to catch up to me, maybe even-


  I shiver at the sudden uninvited and erotic thought.

  I feel a warmth rush from my chest to my groin, a mental image of a tall dark stranger, handsome of course and older than me.

  Experienced.

  Maybe nailing me to the brick wall of an alley with his fat cock from behind.

  What are you, crazy? He could be an ax-wielding maniac. Who the hell goes wandering around the streets in weather like this?

  I look down at my feet, realizing it’s just me and magical smelling guy out and about on a day like today.

  Good point, but still. Be careful, Rachel. Get an Uber and get the hell outta here.

  And call dad.

  Oh, that scent though. It’s like nothing else. So manly. So masculine. Woodsy and amber-sweet with a hint of something I know I want but just can’t put my finger on.

  As quickly as it hit me, it’s gone again and I strain to hear something, anything apart from the wind that’s started to moan through the alleys and narrow backstreets.

  A sudden noise makes me spin around.

  It’s just a soda can, crushed on one side and scraping its way down the street.

  Risking what feels like frostbite but is really just my dislike for the cold, I take off my mittens and fish for my phone.

  One bar of reception and two percent battery.

  Great.

  Freaking awesome.

  Even if I wanted to call for a ride or help, call my dad. I know it would have to be quicker than I could speak or tell them where I am.

  Making the decision to call for an Uber, I hear myself gasp aloud as the phone powers down.

  Goodbye!

  Two percent my ass.

  The phone trembles in my hands and I stuff it back into my pocket. My ears feel hot and I can feel my heart starting to pound.

  The shakiness and wobbly knees I get when my anxiety spikes start to take over as my breath gets faster too, puffing plumes of mist like a steam train as I try to get a grip.

  I’ve got to keep moving. I can double back the next block over, head back home as fast as I can.

  Someone will probably see me, there will be people soon.

  Nice people.

  Normal people.

  Not people following me.

  It takes everything I’ve got, but putting one frozen foot in front of the other is all I can do and after a few blocks, I start to calm down again, feeling silly.

  Telling myself I’m imagining things and that I must be the only person for ten miles dumb enough to be out in this cold weather.

  I’ve almost forgotten about my mystery man, well. His scent anyway.

  When I’m sure I hear somebody calling something out from far away. Something that sounds like it’s being carried on the wind from miles away.

  “Valentine!”

  I stop and cock my head, sure I hear it again, but the sudden sound of an approaching car drowns it out.

  I almost wish it was a cab.

  The car zooms by and the closer I get towards familiar streets, the more I start to feel at ease. Eager to get into a hot bath and forget about everything else for a few hours at least.

  “Valentine!”

  I hear it again, like an echo in my mind. A sad, mournful call that’s filled with an emotion of longing and sadness.

  Almost like a wolf howling in the wind.

  Or, it could just be some whacko wandering the streets screaming ‘Valentine!’ at the top of their lungs. I guess that’s one way to try and get a date for the weekend.

  But I’m not that desperate. I’m beyond desperate, to the point of having given up.

  Waiting at a crosswalk, I jerk my head around when I hear it.

  I know before I even see him that these are the same eyes that have been watching me, following me for what almost feels like since I left the house.

  He’s huge, and as well as a jolt of admiration I also feel a stronger ripple of fear rush across my belly.

  More like a wolf than a dog.

  A deep, melodious bark that’s rich and full of powerful things.

  Masterful.

  Not something I’d expect to see roaming the streets without a leash, or an owner nearby.

  The crosswalk buzzes, but I’m frozen to the spot.

  The huge animal across the street behind me is whining now, his large pink tongue lolling outside of his mouth, his intense blue eyes zeroing in on mine.

  He barks again and I jump.

  Starting to whine his huge paws knead at the sidewalk in front of him before he tips his head back like he’s calling me over.

  I’m not a dog person, but there’s almost something magical about this one. I know better than to approach strange animals in public too, but once the breeze shifts and I catch that familiar scent, that same cologne. A part of me is hooked.

  I look both ways and cross the street, going back in the opposite direction from my house all over again, determined to at least get close enough to see if this dog is really a dog.

  My apprehension seems to dissolve the closer I get to him, more once I spot the thick collar under his fur.

  He lays flat on his belly paws out in front as I get closer, his eyes and tongue dancing with excitement because I’ve followed his command.

  I’m wary, but not scared anymore. He’s huge, but there’s something so disarming about his smile, if dogs… wolves, whatever he is even can smile.

  I get within a few feet of him before he springs to his feet and lurches the other way. Looking back at me and bowing down again with his paws out before running off.

  I’m close enough to get another subtle blast of that cologne though, and despite being late already as well as against my better judgment, I can’t help but trot after him.

  No dog wears cologne, but their masters do.

  “Wait, come back!” I call after him.

  I have to meet whoever owns you so they can own me too.

  If the man’s anything like his dog or his cologne, I know I’m already his.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Conor

  It’s not unusual for me to stay indoors for days at a time when it’s cold out, I can work from anywhere.

  If you’d call what I actually do working.

  If you could say there was really anything worth going outside for in weather like this.

  “I know, I know, boy,” I tell him, lifting myself from my seat and stretching, running my hand through his fur as I walk him to the back door of my house.

  “Let me know when you’re done,” I tell him, closing the door so he can have the privacy he needs to… well. To do what dogs do when they have to go outside on a cold day.

  Making a detour to the kitchen, I decide a late breakfast is in order, and Valentine would appreciate something too, I’m sure.

  I set some bacon and eggs with sausage on low heat and glancing out the kitchen window, I shake my head to myself. Smiling.

  Noticing his zig-zag of paw prints in the frost, from one end of the huge yard to the other.

  “V?” I call out from the back door, shivering a little as I feel the weather make its way inside my light robe.

  “C’mon, V. It’s freezing. Time to come in buddy.”

  Nothing.

  Valentine never ignores my call, and there’s no way he wants to be out here any longer than he has to be.

  “Valentine?” I call out again, feeling a tightness in my chest and a sharp rush of adrenalin in my belly I don’t care for.

  My hands ball into fists as I ignore the cold now, making my way down into the yard, past the semi-frozen koi pond, and around to the side of the house.

  A dog like Valentine is a rare thing, and although I don’t dwell on it, I’ve heard stories of dogs like him being snatched and sold for big money.

  Or worse.

  “Valentine!” I call again, trying to sound upbeat, almost willing myself to catch someone trying to do him harm.

  At least then I could do something. I could break them and save him.
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  At least I’d know where he was.

  But he’s nowhere in sight.

  What I do notice is the rear gate open and unlatched.

  Valentine can open it if he really wants, but why would he?

  He’s by my side every minute of the day, save for when he has to go out and do his business.

  I jog to the edge of the street, noticing only his paw prints before they disappear in the melting ice that’s competing with what little sun there is from behind gray clouds.

  “Shit,” I exclaim, racing back inside and switching off breakfast, I change rapidly into tracks pants and a sweater and slip on my running shoes.

  “Not the kind of workout I had in mind today, V,” I mutter, grabbing his leash on the way out and pulling the door closed behind me.

  I tell myself I’ll catch up, that he probably just got the scent of something and couldn’t help himself.

  We were due for a walk today, and I berate myself for keeping us both cooped up lately.

  It’s not just the weather either. This time of year is always a stark reminder of my own solitude.

  I love Valentine, he’s my world. But when a man gets to a certain age, has so much he’s already achieved.

  I have enough for ten lifetimes, and for more than just me and my dog.

  I want someone special to share it all with, Valentine included. I want the one to let me spoil her, to love her. To show her what it feels like to live like a queen.

  The memory of Valentine’s first day comes to mind and I smile, shaking my head.

  It was Valentine’s Day, about four years ago. I was in a pretty dark place and he was just there, scratching at the door, all muddy and covered in snow, wanting to be let in.

  I opened the door and he leaped straight into my arms, licking me all over, whimpering with excitement like he’d finally found his way home even though he’d never seen me or my house before.

  I tried for a few weeks to find his owner, but once we really got to know each other, once he let it be known he wasn’t going anywhere without me my mind was made up.

  Sometimes the right animal just adopts you. Where they really come from. Who knows?

  That’s how Valentine came to me, and until today, until this Valentine’s week, I’d never given a single thought to ever having to be totally alone ever again.

 

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