This Man Read online Jodi Ellen Malpas (This Man #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, BDSM, Billionaire, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: This Man Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 183150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 916(@200wpm)___ 733(@250wpm)___ 611(@300wpm)
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‘Done what?’ Drew asks on a raised brow.

‘Fuck you.’ Sam spits.

Done what, exactly?

Jesse starts pulling me out of the bar. ‘Bye, lads. Tell Kate, Ava’s with me.’ he calls over his shoulder. I wave my free hand to them as I’m hauled from the bar. They both raise their bottles in goodbye, both grinning.

I’m escorted out of The Manor to Jesse’s Aston Martin, really rather quickly. He opens the passenger door for me to get in.

‘I want to go on the bike.’ I complain. I’m addicted.

‘Right now, I want you in lace, not leather. Get in the car.’ His eyes have turned wickedly dark and promising. When did that happen?

I get in the car, clenching my thighs together, and wait for him to slide in next to me. He starts the car, quickly reversing out and kicking up the gravel as he flies off down the driveway towards the gates. He’s on a mission. I know he was pissed off when Sarah walked in on us. A few minutes later, she could have had the perfect view of Jesse’s tight arse greet her. Or has she seen it before? I inwardly vomit. God, I hope not. I glance over at the gorgeous profile of the man sat next to me, all relaxed as he drives. He flicks his eyes to me before returning them to the road. I can tell he’s trying his hardest not to smile.

‘One hundred thousand pounds is a massive overpayment.’ I say coolly.

‘Is it?’

‘You know it is.’ I look at him challengingly as he fights the smile threatening to breakout across his lovely face.

‘You’re underselling yourself.’

‘I must be the most expensive hooker ever.’ I flip, watching his lips press into a straight line.

‘Ava, if you refer to yourself in that way again…’

‘I was joking.’

‘Do you see me laughing?’

‘I have other clients to deal with.’ I inform him bravely. He can’t expect me to devote all of my working time to his extension, or to him. I highly doubt he’ll let me get on with it undisturbed, and Patrick will get massively suspicious if I’m never in the office.

‘I know, but I’m a special client.’ He reaches over, squeezing my knee, and I look up to a dark grin.

‘You’re special all right!’ I laugh, earning myself a dig in the soft void above my hip bone.

He cranks the volume up, and Elbow settles me back in my seat as I watch the world go by. I’m really in love with him right now, as appose to just in love with him. Despite the lapse in the middle, it’s turned out to be a beautiful day.

Chapter 29

The gates to Lusso slowly shift open and Jesse pulls in, parking the car swiftly and accurately. He wastes no time collecting me from my side of the car and dragging me through the foyer towards the elevator.

‘Evening, Clive.’ I call as I’m hauled past and stuffed into the penthouse lift. ‘Are you in a rush?’

‘Yes.’ he answers decisively, punching in his code. The doors of the elevator close and I’m swiftly thrust up against the mirrored wall. ‘You owe me an apology fuck.’ he growls, attacking my mouth.

What the hell is an apology fuck, and why do I owe him one? I could make a list as long as my arm of all the apologies he owes me. I can’t think of anything that I should be apologising for.

‘What’s an apology fuck?’ I pant as he thrusts his knee between my thighs, moving his mouth to my ear.

‘It involves your mouth.’

I shake off a tremble as he pushes himself away from me, leaving me a raging bag of hormones, panting and holding myself up by leaning against the wall.

He steps back until his back meets the opposite wall of the elevator, his hooded eyes watching me closely as he removes his t-shirt and begins working the button fly of his jeans. My lips part to allow air into my lungs as I wait for instruction. I’m a quivering mess. He’s perfection incarnate, every sharp muscle flexing and rippling with his movement.

His jeans gape open, revealing his mass of hair, his erection falling out into his waiting palm. He isn’t wearing boxers. No obstruction. I flick my eyes up to his, but he’s looking down, observing himself.

I follow his eyes with my own and watch as he draws long, slow strokes over his arousal, his breath hitching slightly on each draw. Seeing him work himself has pins and needles stabbing at my groin and my body temperature swiftly rising. Good God, he is way past perfect. My gaze travels back up his body, finding the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. His stomach muscles are tense, his eyes hooded and lust filled, and that full bottom lip is parted and moist. He’s staring at me now, carefully watching me from across the elevator.



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