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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She shakes her head at me, and the disappointment in her eyes hurts. “Move your car,” she orders gently. “I can’t think with all these car horns screaming.”

“Hey, is anyone going to move the car?”

“Be patient!” Kate yells. “There’s a tragic fucking love story playing out here.”

Tragic. Ain’t that right? She’s not ordered me away, so I’m going with this. Will do anything she says. I go to my car and park it up the road, and Kate joins me. I lean against my Aston, head dropped, feeling so fucking ashamed of myself as Ava’s best friend stands before me.

“You should have told her.”

“I know,” I grind. If she’s just going to simply state the fucking obvious, she’s of no help to me. “It’s not something that tends to come up in general conversation between two people who are falling for each other, Kate. Jesus,” I breathe, my hands going to my hair. “She’s just a regular woman.” Regular but spectacular. “And I am far from regular, Kate.” My damn bottom lip wobbles. “I need her to let me fix this.”

Her eyes drop, and I can see I’m breaking through her thick skin.

“She’s everything to me, Kate. I can’t lose her.”

She sighs, looking past me. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.” I exhale the words, so fucking grateful. She could have told me to fuck off. She could have shut me down, and the fact she hasn’t sent me packing gives me hope. Because she’s Ava’s best friend and she wouldn’t try to help me if she knew with certainty that Ava truly hates me.

Kate heads back, and I follow obediently, using the time to pray. I pray on everything. I call on my brother to help me. I call on Carmichael. And I call on Rosie. My little girl. She’d be nineteen now. Nineteen years old. And if she was still here, I wouldn’t be in this position. I can only hope that my path still would have led me to Ava though. I have to believe it would have, because to know I would have to lose one love of my life just to find another is unthinkable. It’s cruel.

I climb the stairs to her flat, more nervous than I’ve ever been in my life. Kate looks back at me, and I see in her expression that I should wait here, so I stop, nodding, swallowing, willing to do anything she says if it means I get this chance. She disappears into the lounge, and there’s a prolonged, unbearable silence before anyone speaks. It’s Kate, and what she says is defensive. It tells me maybe I was wrong with my assumption. Ava really doesn’t want to see me.

“Just hear him out, Ava,” she says softly, and I rub at the ache in my chest. “The man’s a mess.” I could laugh. I’m not a mess. I’m fucking broken. Destroyed. “You, get in the kitchen!” she snaps.

“I can’t fucking move, you evil cow,” Sam retorts, and the next minute they appear at the door. Sam’s limping.

“Don’t ask,” he mutters. I don’t bother telling him that I wasn’t going to, but if I were to hedge my bets, I’d say Kate’s let her fury out on his balls. I’d take that over this. I’d take a cricket bat to my nuts repeatedly. The pain would be more bearable.

I breach the opening of the lounge and find her by the window, her back to me. It’s a tactical move on her part. She knows the affect we have on each other with just a look. Just a touch. She knows I can eliminate her despair. If she’ll only let me. “Please, look at me, Ava,” I beg, trying to adopt a gentle approach. Give her space. Tell her rather than show her that we’re meant to be. “Ava, please.” And yet despite my better judgment, my hand lifts and feels her arm. She jerks away, and it’s like a knife to my heart.

“Please, don’t touch me,” she says, facing me. I momentarily avoid the sheer determination in her stare, unable to face it. But I must face it.

So I look up at her. I see detachment.

“Why did you even take me there?” she asks, her voice worryingly stable.

“Because I want you with me all the time,” I admit unashamedly. “I can’t be away from you.” Because I love you. I need you.

“Well, you’d better get used to it because I don’t want to see you again.”

“You don’t mean that,” I say, feeling my eyes stinging. “I know you don’t mean that.”

“I mean it.”

“I never meant to hurt you,” I whisper. I was trying to protect her. From me. From my reality.

“Well, you have,” she snipes coldly. “You’ve trampled into my life and trampled all over my heart. I tried to walk away.” Her jaw rolls angrily. “I knew there was more than meets the eye. Why didn’t you let me walk away?”


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