This Woman (This Man – The Story from Jesse #1) Read Online Jodi Ellen Malpas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: This Man - The Story from Jesse Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
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Van Der Haus’s details greet me and, on an epic snarl, I quickly copy his number to my mobile. I’m covering my bases. Making sure I can speak to him if I need to, and something tells me I will need to. Then I change Ava’s ringtone and toss it back in her bag. The foil of her pill packet catches the light.

It sparkles.

Dares me.

Jesus, someone hold me back.

I reach forward and grab the pills, going to the sink in the kitchen and popping each one out as I run the tap, washing them away. And I watch as they disappear down the plug hole, my hands braced on the edge of the counter.

So you steal her contraceptive pills?

“Fuck off,” I grunt, turning away and heading back upstairs. I need to run.

I need Ava.

I pull on my shorts, sitting on the chaise across the room to tie the laces of my trainers.

“What are you doing?” Her sleepy voice replaces the void in my stomach with relief. She’s awake. It’s a new day. A day for me to finally sort out my shit.

She loves me. That’s my lifeline.

I peek up, finding her blinking her sleepy eyes, her arms stretching high over her head. “I’m going for a run.” I finish tying my laces and stand. Her eyes are wide open now, and looking rather appreciative.

My gaze drops to her chest. “I’m quite enjoying the view too.”

“What time is it?”

“Five.”

Her face falls, and then her body, back to the mattress. She covers herself with the sheets, and I smile as I pace to the bed, whipping them back off and getting my face up in hers. Her pout is adorable as she slides her arms around my neck, applying force, trying to drag me down.

I have her on her feet quickly. “You’re coming.” I flip the cups of her bra back into place before I change my mind. “Come on.”

“No, I’m bloody not. I run in the evenings,” she calls as I head to the bathroom, smiling. I look over my shoulder and see her plummet back to the bed. Oh no. I hurry back over before she gets too comfortable, taking her ankle and tugging her to the bottom. A pillow covers her face, so I whip it off, leveling her with a serious face.

“Yes, you are. Mornings are better.” I see her mouth engage to protest, so I quickly flip her onto her front and give her arse a swift slap. “Get ready,” I order, swooping up the bag of women’s sportswear from the chair.

“I don’t have my running kit.” Her smug face falls when I throw the bag and it lands precisely next to her. “You bought these for me?”

“I saw your trainers in your room. They’re wrecked.” She’s not a serious runner if she runs in those things, but I’ll soon change that. I can think of nothing better than starting my day off with Ava and a run. “You’ll damage your knees if you keep running in them.” She shows no signs that she’s going to indulge me, so on a huff of displeasure, I start rummaging through the bag to find something suitable. I pull out a sports bra. Inspect it. Smile and hand it over. It’s snatched from my hand on a scowl, and that scowl remains fixed as she puts it on. I pass her some shorts, hers to match my his, and finally a vest. She takes her time changing, delaying, sulking. “Sit,” I order, and she drops to the bed heavily. “I’m ignoring you.” I get her trainers on and pull her up, giving her a thorough inspection.

She looks hot as fuck.

“Come on, then, lady,” I say, pulling her out of the bedroom before I push her onto the bed. “Let’s start the day how we intend to finish it.”

“I’m not running again today,” she splutters, looking alarmed.

“That’s not what I meant,” I say over my laugh as we take the stairs.

“Oh. What did you mean?”

I can hear the hope in her voice. She knows exactly what I mean. Lucky for Ava, I’m in a giving mood today. I just hope she’s in an accepting mood. “I mean by being out of breath and sweaty.”

She straightens her shoulders. “You’re not seeing me tonight,” she says, almost smugly, like she’s won something. I’m not seeing her? We’ll see. “I need a hair tie.” She tugs her hand free and goes to her bags, and I go to the kitchen to get some cash. She’ll never make it around my route, and it would be highly unreasonable to expect her to. I’m not unreasonable. I stuff a note in the small zip pocket with my phone and fetch her.

The journey to the foyer in the elevator is excruciating. She constantly reaches for her ponytail, adjusting it, thrusting her boobs forward in that tight vest.



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