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Read Online Books/Novels:

All I Am: Drew’s Story (This Man #3.5)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Jodi Ellen Malpas

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
1478995246 (ISBN13: 9781478995241)
Book Information:

A NEW NOVELLA IN THE THIS MAN SERIES!

You don’t need to read the series to enjoy this story. But if you’re already a Jesse Ward fan, just wait until you see the advice he gives Drew about falling in love.

I thought I had control. I was so, so wrong…

I don’t need a relationship. I have Hux, a decadent club where I quench whatever raw desire I choose. I take pleasure and I give it – no strings attached. So when Raya Rivers comes in asking for someone cold, emotionless, and filthy… well, no man ever takes his wicked pleasure quite the way I do.
Only Raya is different. Vulnerable. And carrying some deep sorrow that gets past all my carefully constructed walls and inexplicably makes me care. Now craving controls me. Ice has given way to red-hot need.
But Raya has no idea about my other life – my real life. That I’m daddy to an adorable little girl. My two worlds are about to collide with the force of a supernova. Once Raya knows the truth, will she be able to accept all I am?

Includes a special preview of THE FORBIDDEN, a standalone novel coming in August.

Books in Series:

This Man Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas

Books by Author:

Jodi Ellen Malpas Books

Chapter 1

There’s something seedy about this club. Something that was always absent at my previous club, The Manor. My old haunt in the Surrey Hills felt like home. The lavish grounds, the refined décor, the social environment. It felt like an extension of my life, and it was. Hux is just somewhere I come to fuck.

It’s always basked in dim, erotic lighting, and the fog of moans that follow you everywhere cement themselves in your head, lingering long after you’ve left the building. Everything always happens in slow motion here. People walking, people talking, mouths moving so slowly you can pretty much lip-read every word being said. Talk of fantasies, of intentions, and of deepest, darkest desires. Nothing is sacred around here. There’s no mystery or intrigue. You walk through those doors off a London back street and you know exactly what you are going to get. Sex. Sex of the filthy kind. The emotionless scene suits me down to the ground. I don’t have time for the complications of a relationship.

Standing behind her kneeling form, I curl the chains around her neck and squeeze, just a fraction, until her breath is even shallower than her orgasm has left her. I dip, getting my face close to hers. “Thanks for playing.” I whisper in her ear, before moving my mouth south and biting down on her cheek. She turns her head and stares at me with eyes that still harbor endless hunger. Hunger for me.

Releasing her, leaving her on her knees, I stride into the adjoining bathroom and take a shower, washing away the potent scent of sex. Once I’ve dried off, I stare at myself in the mirror, my blue eyes tired, my dark hair limp and falling across my forehead, covering the few creases that have formed in recent years. Though I’ve avoided the dreaded gray. “Not bad for thirty-nine, Drew.”

I get back into my suit and make my way through the club as I scroll through my phone to see where the lads are. Now I’ve let off some steam, it’s time for a beer.

“Hey, Drew.”

I slow and turn, seeing the owner of this decadent pleasure pit, Cole Hux, zipping up the fly of his trousers, his vast chest bare, the swell of his biceps shimmering with sweat under the dim lights. “What’s up, Cole?”

“Here.” His six-foot seven-inch frame is before me in a few long paces, his huge hand holding out a piece of paper.

“What’s this?” I ask, tentatively taking it.

“Newbie.” He turns and wanders off to his office. “She said she wants someone cold, emotionless, and filthy.”

“So you thought of me.” I say to myself, looking down at the name and mobile number. “Raya.” I muse, stuffing the note in my pocket and heading for my car. I can do cold, emotionless, and filthy. With little effort. Actually, with no effort.

* * *

I’m rolling my shoulder as I wander into the bar, working out some of the stiffness on a slight wince. It’s been a long week in the office, but with eight sales made, one of which was an overpriced, under-par penthouse in Chelsea that’s been on the market for over a year, you could say it’s been a great week for business.

I find Sam, one of my oldest friends, at the bar alone and join him, a beer ready and waiting for me. “Where’s Jesse?” I ask as I take up the stool beside him. The three of us have kept our weekly man-time date for as long as we’ve known each other, and only on a few rare occasions over the decades have any of us missed it. So where is he?

The look Sam flashes me is full of amusement that’s trying to be hidden by sympathy.

“Who’s upset him?” I swipe my beer up and clink it against Sam’s.

“I’ll give you two guesses.” He tips his bottle to his lips, his eyes dancing with enjoyment.

“Maddie.” I don’t need two guesses. “How can a man get so worked up over a seven-year-old?”

Sam chuckles, ever relishing in our poor mate’s despair. “She’s not like your Georgia.”

I smile at the mention of my girl. My placid, sweet little girl. She looks like me. Has my reserved, quiet nature. I’m so glad, since I hate her fucking mother. I’ve got her back from Coral on Saturday, thank God. The three days a week she’s away from me are long and lonely. “How’s Kate?”

“Baking her arse off. It’s wedding season.” He reaches up to his shoulder and brushes off a smudge of flour. “You had a good week?”

“Great week.”

Sam gives me the once-over, his eyes landing on my crotch. “Been to the club?”

I look down and find my fly undone. On a roll of my eyes, I hold my bottle in my mouth by the neck as I fasten myself up. “Jealous?”


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