With This Man Read Online Jodi Ellen Malpas (This Man #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: This Man Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
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‘Dad!’ Maddie’s shrill shriek lands in the kitchen with a bang and bats down my throbbing cock. Just like that. ‘Dad!’

I fold, unimpressed, though Ava laughs, taking the edge off my annoyance. Having her to myself, albeit traumatic at times, was a rare treat. Being able to indulge her when I wanted was a blessing, especially given the circumstances. That connection was key. Not having to worry about being caught by the kids was a weight off my mind. A light wave of guilt passes over me for being so selfish.

Growling, I yank myself away from Ava and push her hair off her sticky cheek. ‘No more tears,’ I order, heading to the kitchen door. ‘What’s up?’ I call to Maddie.

‘I can’t find my school uniform.’

‘Me neither,’ Jacob chimes in, appearing at the top of the stairs in his boxers.

I wouldn’t have a fucking clue where to start looking for school uniforms. And I just know Ava won’t now, either. When she joins me at the bottom of the stairs, I half expect her to break down once more, and so do the twins, judging by their wary expressions. But instead, she breathes in and starts making her way up to them. ‘If we can’t find them, you’ll just have to go naked.’

‘Urghhhhh, gross!’ Maddie laughs, watching as Ava passes, her eyes sparkling in happiness.

‘Wouldn’t bother me.’ Jacob shrugs and looks down at me, like What’s the problem?

‘He clearly gets his confidence from you,’ Ava calls, sending me a pointed look.

And I grin, so fucking proud of my wife. And of my kids. Of all of them. We’re a team. We can get through anything.

Chapter 45

Ava

I wake this morning like I’ve woken every other morning for the past six weeks since the kids got home: with Jesse pressed into my back, his lips kissing down my spine slowly and lazily. It’s blissful, mind-blanking. And, as always, I melt under the warmth of his mouth rousing me from my dreams. I close my eyes again and let him take me to paradise, let my body soften, and let my senses take over. The friction of our skin rubbing together takes me from warm to blazing. The feel of his morning arousal brushing my thighs and arse takes me from wanting to silently begging. The feel of his breath layering every part of my skin it touches takes me from hungry to starving. I reach back, pushing my fingers through his morning mess of hair, sighing my contentment, bowing my body into his.

‘Morning, lady,’ he murmurs between nibbles of my shoulder, rolling his hips into my arse. ‘You ready for me?’

‘Always.’ It’s the truth. My body responds to him instinctively. My need for him is unrelenting.

One sharp thrust puts him inside me, deep and high, my fingers gripping his hair as I cry out, his teeth nipping my flesh as he grunts. I’m floating. I feel like I’m on cloud nine, just seconds after waking, and I know that’s Jesse’s intention each morning. To start my day being reminded of how wonderful we are. It really isn’t necessary.

I look at this man and sizzle inside. I listen to him, no matter what he’s saying, and take huge comfort from the deep baritone of his rough voice. I feel him touch me and just know we were always incomplete without each other. We are one.

Our bodies move in perfect sync, flowing together softly and carefully, like they’re so familiar with each other. Because they are. I could never question the sense of right when we’re intimate like this, even on my bad days, when frustration gets the better of me, when a whole day passes without so much as a speck of a memory to encourage me on.

Those days have turned into weeks. It’s been six weeks without anything, no memory, no flashbacks, leaving me with only the scraps of what I have, of what I built before my brain decided to grind to a halt where my past is concerned. Like a cork has been wedged in the hole, stopping the flow. It hasn’t escaped Jesse’s notice. His keen eyes are always watching me, his ears always listening. I’ve given him nothing for weeks. I can see the disappointment on his face no matter how hard he tries to disguise it with love.

I feel under pressure. The only relief I’m getting is when we’re making love, when he manages to blank my mind completely, or when I go to yoga with Zara. She’s still unaware of my accident and condition, and that’s great, because she’s my other source of escape. I never feel like I’m disappointing her. I never feel like she’s looking at me as if I should know something. My new friend is respite that I so need.

I know Jesse and I are building new memories, wonderful memories, but every day I still stare at that huge wall of photographs in the family room and wonder where the hell it’s all gone.


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