Page 7 of Texting Mr. Stranger
When I grab my dick, I instantly feel precome leaking from my tip. My stiff rod aches as I stroke up and down, almost sure I can feel her hand pausing at my base, then up, then down.
I envision pulling up her dress and turning her around, bending her over and revealing the thick gorgeousness of her ass. I can see the wetness glimmering on her thighs, her hole quivering with how badly she needs me.
All I can see and feel is Bella bouncing against me, her ass shaking with each thrust. I can hear her moaning in pleasure as I thrust harder and faster, pounding into her deeper and deeper until?—
“Ah,” I grunt as a hot stream of come explodes out of my dick. Everything else ceases to exist.
When it’s over, I quickly enter the en suite and clean myself up. I can’t even remember the last time I touched myself like that. My head is rushing like I’m drunk or high. When I go back to bed this time, I turn off my phone. I don’t trust myself not to go onto her page and look for more photos.
This is about Sofia, I remind myself. Not me. Itcan’tbe about me. Nothing can, truthfully, though I’d never say that to anybody because it sounds self-pitying. A Don has to live for the Family, not himself. It’s as simple as that.
What I just did, letting out all that heat and desire, is the first and last time. My life is about control of all things. My life is about keeping my focus fixed like a sniper on the targets that matter.
Even if it’s a messed-up fact, the truth is what I want doesn’t fall into that category.
CHAPTER FOUR
BELLA
Iwake up earlier than usual. Typically, when I work late at the restaurant and don’t have any clients, I let myself sleep for an extra hour. But the prospect of making $450—and maybe securing a long-term, high-value client—has me excitedly leaping out of bed.
Mom finds me in the living room, feverishly polishing every surface. “Are you okay?” she says from her bedroom door, exhausted from her long hours at the library and college.
It took alotof convincing to get Mom to agree to let me help pay her way through college. That’s probably why she spends every waking second fully dedicated to doing the best job she possibly can.
“I’ve got a new student coming by in a while,” I tell her, scrubbing the coffee table as though my life depended on it.
“An important student, I take it?” Mom’s voice falters as it always does when we discuss work. She doesn’t like to talk about what I’m doing for her except to say thank you, thank you, and thank you again. It’s not like she’s just going to leave me hanging.
“It’s for this man’s little sister. He wants to pay five hundred bucks per lesson. Apparently, she’s a big fan of my channel. I didn’t even know anybody watched it.”
Suddenly, Mom rushes over to me and throws her arms around me, taking me off guard. That doesn’t stop a big smile from spreading across my lips as I hug her tightly against me.
“Iknewa day like this would come,” she says. “You’re talented, Bella. You always have been. More than that, you’re dedicated. You’re the hardest worker I know.”
“I had one hell of a role model, remember?”
We savor the moment. Rarely do we get bursts of real hope like this. We’ve spent too long stressing about bills, life, and how things could go wrong. Now, we don’t need to worry. We don’t need to obsess. Perhaps we have a chance.
“What time are they coming?” Mom asks.
“Eleven,” I tell her. “I just need to get everything ready. I want this place to look clean. Presentable, you know?”
“Let me help,” Mom beams. “I’ve got time before my first class. We’ll have this place sparkling. Don’t forget to go across the hall and tell Mr. Hudson about your new visitor.”
This is a requirement of me working from home when neither Mom nor Emily is here—telling our neighbor across the hall so that he can check in on me.
“I won’t,” I promise, butterflies dancing in my belly as I glance at the clock.
Not long now.
We’re on our way,he texts, making me realize I don’t even know his name. I know his sister is called Sofia from the texts.
Okay, great. Sorry to be rude. I should’ve asked earlier, but what’s your name?
Matteo,he replies,and it’s not rude. People call me Matt. See you soon.
Matteo, or Matt, is doing right by his kid sister, trying to give her the best start in life. I wonder if the girl will remind me of myself when I was her age, all bright-eyed at the prospect of starting this new chapter in her life. I still remember the first time I touched a violin. It was like I could feel the music whispering into my soul.