Joey by Sadie Kincaid EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Sadie Kincaid
- Language: English
- Genre: Organized Crime Thrillers
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size:2 MB
- Price: Free
TWELVE YEARS LATER
JOEY
“Good girl,” Max says with a smirk as my right foot connects with
the pad. I’m grateful that my cheeks are already flushed from the
workout because those words coming from his perfect mouth have
me about to melt into a puddle.
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I, Joey Moretti—a one hundred percent card-carrying feminist—would
gladly drop to my knees and crawl to this man if he told me to.
“You’re not done yet.” He nudges me with the pad, waiting for me to
kick him again. Because our workout isn’t even half over. He works almost
as hard as I do in these training sessions—pushing me to my limits and
making me faster and stronger every time.
I hit him with another roundhouse, and his grunt of approval causes
warmth to pool in my center. I doubt I’d work even half as hard for any
other trainer, but Maximo DiMarco isn’t just any trainer. He is the reason I
get out of bed every morning. He’s one of the most feared men in the city,
but to me, he is sweet and funny and kind. And the fact he has a body that
looks like it was chiseled by the gods themselves, not to mention the most
incredible dark brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my entire life, doesn’t hurt
either. But he’s also my older brothers’ best friend, the right hand of the
Cosa Nostra, and as off-limits to me as any man can be.
“You tired already?” He chuckles, tapping the side of my head.
“No,” I lie. My desire to make him proud overrides any pain or fatigue
that I feel during his grueling workouts.
My brothers arranged for him to teach me some self-defense, and in
return I get a little more freedom. I also get to drool over a shirtless, sweaty
Max every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and those mornings are the
highlight of my week.
“Harder, Joey. I know you got more than that,” he says, bouncing on his
toes as he moves effortlessly around the ring—like he’s not the size of a
mountain.
I lean back like he taught me, swivel my hip, and strike the pad with as
much strength as I have left in me.
“That’s my girl,” he says, and my breath catches in my throat.
Sometimes I wonder if he does this on purpose. I mean he must know I
have a huge crush on him. It’s kind of a running joke with my two sistersin-law. And my overprotective brothers tolerate it because they know
without a doubt that Max would never cross that line. Which is a damn
shame if you ask me.
“Okay, kid. You got two minutes to take a quick water break, and then
we do a little conditioning.”
I groan. Conditioning is code for torture. Burpees and mountain
climbers and all kinds of other insane exercises that Max makes me do at
the end of my workout.
“You should enjoy this while you can. Your new trainer won’t take it so
easy on you,” Max says with a laugh and hands me a bottle of water.
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