Possessive Portuguese: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 86)
POSSESSIVE PORTUGUESE
AN OLDER MAN YOUNGER WOMAN ROMANCE
_______________________
A MAN WHO KNOWS WHAT HE WANTS, 86
FLORA FERRARI
CONTENTS
Copyright
A Man Who Knows What He Wants Series
Possessive Portuguese
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
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
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
POSSESSIVE PORTUGUESE
I thought Possessive Portuguese was the name of my dad’s best friend’s sailing yacht.
But after I take possession of my high school diploma, and he possesses yet another victory in the Regata de Portugal, my dad takes me abroad for a sailing trip for the three of us to celebrate…and I find out what Possessive Portuguese really means for the very first time.
After we lock lips in Lisbon, this older man sailing skipper says he wants to skip past all the formalities because he’s already obsessed with putting a baby inside this younger woman.
Portuguese men discovered the world, but what happens the first time this older man discovers this younger woman has yet to be claimed?
Will the idea of my dad’s best friend’s obsession with his daughter make my dad more than seasick as we make our way around the Portuguese islands in the Atlantic, or will the two of us sail off into the sunset, the wind at our backs forever?
*Possessive Portuguese is an insta-everything standalone instalove romance with an HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.
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CHAPTER 1
Francisco
She’s so damn innocent in that white dress with her tourist map, looking like a deer in headlights.
My hand squeezes the coffee cup holding my morning bica, Portugal’s longer and smoother cousin to the espresso.
The small handle breaks off. I put the cup back on the saucer and pull a twenty Euro note from my pocket without looking, my eyes locked on her. Twenty Euros will more than cover the damage, but the real damage is what she’s done to me. My head is spinning and I’ll never be the same again.
I slide the note underneath the small plate my pastel de nata, a delicious, flaky custard tart sprinkled with cinnamon, was on before I devoured it.
It’s a typical Portuguese breakfast, but the woman standing outside the coffee shop is far from typical. I’ve never seen anyone even remotely as beautiful as her.
A morning ocean breeze catches her blond hair, blowing it away from her face, exposing her high cheekbones, swan like neck, and femini
ne collarbone.
My cock hardens instantly, thinking how easy it would be to slide that shoulderless dress off her and slide my dick right into her, claiming her as mine.
In all my thirty-eight years I’ve never felt this way about a woman before. Never fantasized about some passerby on the street.
And this is the kind of moment that defines a man, the kind that comes once in a lifetime and I’m not going to let this one pass me by.
I stand, moving quickly to the door.
My heart is racing as I try and get a hold of myself before I approach the girl I want to wrap my arms around and keep safe forever.
Forever?
What in the hell is wrong with me?
I spend most of my days and nights sailing, focused on winning regattas and not the hand of some woman.
But this isn’t some woman, this is the woman.
The woman I can see myself completely obsessed with forever.
I hear a tram horn and look to my left. It’s moving slow, but it’s already almost on top of her.
There’s no way he can stop in time.
The horn sounds again, but she’s got on those damn Bose noise cancelling headphones.
Fuck!
The thought of anything ever happening to her sends adrenaline spiking through my veins and I take off at a dead sprint right for her.
The horn sounds again as I leave my feet, catching her in midair as I feel the gust of wind from the tram pass us as we fly through the air and out of danger.
But now there’s a new danger.
I rotate my body mid air, bracing myself for the landing on the cobblestone street that’s been worn slick from centuries of pedestrians.
We’re guaranteed to hit hard and slide, ensuring broken bones and then terrible road rash.
And if she’s not on top of me I’ll crush her.
I flex my abs as tight as I can and my body rotates another ninety degrees until I’m completely on my back.
“I got you,” I whisper into her ear and then I feel the impact.
Of cork?
“Are you okay, man?” a man pushing a big wooden cart which apparently was filled with corks from wine bottles, asks me as I look up at him. The sight of us flying through the air at him must have scared him, causing him to dump his load which in turned saved me from some serious pain.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m a man. Ask the girl.” Then I realize what I just said and snarl at him.
Nobody’s getting close to my woman.
“Are you okay?” I ask as she lays on top of me, her ample breasts pressed into my chest as my cock presses into her stomach.
“Oh my god. You…you saved me,” she says.
“And I’ve been saving something else just for you,” I say.
My hand slides behind her head and I apply pressure, but not much. I don’t need to because the momentum I’ve created avalanches and her lips come crashing down on mine.
Goosebumps cover my body.
My toes curl in my shoes.
My entire body goes tense.
I wrap my arms around her holding her tight, knowing I’m never going to let her go.
I’m the most confident, self-assured man to ever sail the pristine waters of the Atlantic and the Mediterranean off the coast of my country, and I’ve never been more confident and sure of something in my entire life.
She is mine.
CHAPTER 2
Francisco
“Anything I can do to help out?” my best friend Frank asks as I check the yacht one last time for our two week expedition from Lisbon to the islands of Azores and from there to the island of Madeira and then back to Lisbon.
“I’m good, my man. Once Fiona shows up we’re ready to push off.”
“You sure there’s nothing I can do?” he asks again.
“This isn’t the rowing team from back in college. No racing shell and oars this time,” I say, joking with my rowing partner of eight years.
I went abroad for high school starting my freshman year. My English wasn’t good then, but I knew there would be one way to make some friends.
Anything nautical related.
Somewhere I got the itch to sail and explore, just like the Portuguese heroes before me such as Vasco da Gama, Fernão de Magalhães, and now likely Christopher Columbus. Recent DNA testing makes it look more and more certain that Columbus was in fact Portuguese, and not Spanish as previously thought.
Due to my size and experience, Frank and I won every high school race we ever competed in and then went off to college together and won those too.
But after eight years of living abroad I had to return to my motherland, but one thing never changed…Frank and I will always be best friends.
And Frank is here with his daughter to celebrate her high school graduation and my winning of the Regata de Portugal, but really both are just an excuse to get out there on the water together and have some fun just like old times.
Speaking of excuses, I was so blown away by that young woman just half an hour ago my first thought was to make one up for my buddy as to why I couldn’t make this trip, but there’s no way I’d do that even though the thought crossed my mind.
Damn, I wanted to cancel all my plans and just take her up to my apartment overlooking the Belém Tower, at the mouth of the Tagus river and a ceremonial gateway to Lisbon, and explore every inch of her body.
And the worst part was she’s only going to be here a couple weeks, which is about the same amount of time I’ll be sailing.
But damn when I get back I’m calling her first thing and finding a way to get her back to Portugal or go to where she’s at.
Even right now, the thought of us being apart is driving me crazy.
I was so excited that Frank and his daughter were coming to town for this trip, but when I met him at the port just after saving that girl from almost getting leveled by a tram, all I could think about was her.
Yeah, I was excited to see him and I’m sure it showed on my face, but my mind was wandering…elsewhere…imagining how incredible it would be if she were mine already and joining us out on the open water.
She’s probably around the same age as Frank’s daughter too, so she’d even have someone her own age to talk to, in the rare moments I wasn’t doing everything I could to command her attention.
Wow, I haven’t seen his daughter in ten years, and even then it was just a brief visit where Frank and I spent most of the time together and his daughter stayed attached to her mom’s hip.
I try not to think about the tragedy that took her life, pushing it away. This is supposed to be a happy time.
Something in my mind is off. It’s like my subconscious is trying to solve a puzzle about this girl and then it hits me.
Her phone number is the nautical coordinates for Rome, which is where Saint Valentine is from.
Coincidence or fate?
I would have said random coincidence if you would have asked me any other day of my life, except this one.
This was truly meant to be. It was so meant to be that I could barely even think when I got her number, forgetting to get her name or give her mine at the time. Her number is stored under “Mine” in my address book, because that’s exactly what she is.
What I also can’t figure out is how she got a Swiss phone number, which equates to the GPS coordinates for Rome. She could have bought the SIM card online, or maybe it’s just a Skype landline number. The country code for Switzerland is forty-one, and the first two GPS coordinates for Rome are four and one. This girl is the mystery of all mysteries and I will get to the bottom of this, and on top of her.
I need to stop thinking about all this and concentrate on my guest, and soon to be guests.
“It’s really good to see you, buddy,” Frank says patting me on the back. “Whoa. What happened here?”
“Oh that,” I say as Frank pulls the back of my shirt up and around so I can see the mark the corks left. “I fell in the street,” I say. Fortunate
ly for me Portugal is the largest producer of cork, with a lot of it used in our wine bottles.
Luckily that older gentleman collects all the cork from bars the morning after copious amounts of wine is consumed and then takes them to a recycling center for a little extra cash and the exercise and socializing that goes along with his “job.” Pretty cool to think so many of the pushpin cork boards, coasters and flooring in the area might have been a wine cork in a previous life.
And my previous life had always seemed so successful and full of great things until she came along and made me instantly realize it all means nothing if there’s no one else to share it with.
“Since when did you get clumsy?” Frank says. “You were always so sure of yourself.”
“Since—“
“There she is,” Frank says. “You remember Fiona, Francisco.”