Excerpt
The Ache of Beau
Shepard
Geesh, it seems
like time flies when a story is pouring out of me! I am in awe of how this
story came together and am very excited to invite you into the world of Marla
Matthews and Beau Shepard.
They have been
chomping at the bit, ready for me to tell their story, which is a weave of past
and present. Forever Branded is a tale of love enduring when all hope is lost.
Told from Marla and Beau’s perspective, this story will suck you in and let you
dive into all the juicy details and secrets revealed! Check out the excerpt
below!
Happy Reading!
~Jessa Eden
Enjoy this morsel
of Marla and Beau’s story and check out Forever Branded available May 23rd or
pre-order now.
Beau:
Life had offered me
a pretty sweet ride. I had money, status and privilege. It bought me whatever I
wanted, excused any indiscretion and included me in a VIP world.
But I didn’t give a
shit.
None of it really
mattered.
I’d lived for years
in a fog after Marla broke up with me only to resurface when I had a car
accident. It cost me my hockey career, my leg shattering as I wrapped my
Ferrari F50 around a tree.
I was lucky to walk
after that.
Having a near death
experience scared me enough to straighten out my life.
I cut out the heavy
partying and channeled my energy into becoming a workaholic and a fuckaholic.
When I wasn’t at the office or working out, I was screwing every hot woman in
Baltimore, trying to get Marla out of my head.
I could still
remember how her soft skin tasted, the breathy, pitched moans she made as we
went at it. It haunted me at times, even in the middle of a great fuck.
Marla was my first.
For everything.
I’d loved her so
hard, I’d come apart at the seams when she left me.
I’d never been the
same since.
Now, I just wanted
to punish her.
Especially after
seeing her at that party.
After all these
years, she still took my breath away as she stood there wide-eyed. My blood ran
hot and I wanted to make her squeal like the naughty girl she was hiding under
that modest black dress she wore.
A rush of dirty
flashbacks ran through my mind, mostly of her opening wide and welcoming me in.
I had to control my first instinct to run over, scoop her up and lay a hard
kiss on her sweet, lush mouth.
I had never gotten
over her.
I knew it. I lived
with it.
I should have been
able to let her go and move on.
But she became
ground zero for me when she blasted a hole the size of Texas in my heart. For
now, I would settle for fucking her up, the way she had so easily done to me.
After I left the
party and dumped the disappointed red-head back at her apartment, I sped off in
my bright blue Bugatti Veyron as I high-tailed it across town. I had better
things to do than waste my time dealing with her shit anyway. She was starting
to look at me like we were more than fuck buddies.
We weren’t ever
going to be more than that.
I would never trust
a woman, again.
Not worth it.
I headed back to
the Gators headquarters, where I conducted most of my business. Located in a
high-rise, I keyed in my code and made my way up to the fifty-second floor in
my private elevator.
As I set foot into
the Gators office, everybody perked up.
The boss was in.
I passed a couple
of women smiling in my direction, while men nodded in respect, through the
glass plated walls of their offices.
Power was good.
Walking into my
spacious office that overlooked the scenic ocean front, I was determined to dig
up dirt on Marla. I had a million other projects that demanded my attention,
but I didn’t care.
“Get Mitch on the
phone for me, Donna,” I said to my secretary, taking off my jacket and throwing
it on one of the leather high back chairs in front of my desk.
“You got it. Want
some coffee?” she asked as I paced back and forth, trying to get ahold of
myself.
Marla had me all
whipped up. I could barely think straight.
“Sure.” I ran my
hand through my hair, trying to settle my jets, wondering why that girl always
got under my skin.
Donna brought me a
cup of Joe, moseying in like she had all the time in the world. She was in her
mid-fifties, with her red hair in a French twist, dressed like she was Peggy on
the show Mad Men. She wasn’t crazy about technology, but she was the best damn
secretary I could ask for —sharp as a tack, didn’t miss much, and she kept
things running smoothly. Just what I liked.
“What’s got you all
worked up?” she asked as she watched me pace.
“You don’t want to
know.”
“Mm-hmm,” she said,
studying me with her perceptive light blue gaze “I bet it’s a woman.”
“It might be…but
you’ll never know.”
“Smart ass.”
I grinned. “You
always keep it real, Donna.”
“Someone has to,”
she shot back with a grin, turning around and heading toward the front of the
office. A couple of seconds later, she shouted, “Mitch on line one,” as I
grabbed the phone and sat down behind my big mahogany desk.
“What do you need?”
my head of security asked as soon as he heard my voice.
“I need you to do
some research for me.”
“On who?”
“Marla Matthews. I
want everything on her. Leave no stone unturned.”
“Got it boss.”
I slammed down the
phone and sat back in my black leather office chair. I lit a cigar, put my feet
on my desk and thought about what had just happened.
God-damn Marla
Matthews.
Still the most
beautiful woman I had ever seen.
Curvy, sensuous,
and hot.
She still had it,
after all these years.
Twenty-two god-damn
years.
I figured she’d be
married with two kids by now.
But she’d been at
the party all by herself.
Why?
It didn’t make
sense.
I needed to know
why she wasn’t married and being taken care of by another man. My gut clenched
as I thought about the last time I saw her. She said some horrible things that
I would never forgive her for.
I had been
completely fooled by her innocent do-gooder act. But underneath her sweet
veneer was a heartless woman who didn’t give a shit about anyone.
Least of all, me.
When I’d lived in
Toronto, it been easier to put her into the back of my mind. Granted, I had
been fucked up for many years, but still, I couldn’t see her because she was
thousands of miles away.
But, here in
Baltimore, it was hard to resist the temptation of knowing her every move. I
could almost breathe her in here. No matter where I went.
I knew I would run
into her sooner or later. Still, it had been a shock to my system, seeing her
stare at me, like she was seeing a ghost.
FUCK! I couldn’t
believe I still wanted to know what was going on in her life. It tore me up and
I hated that she brought out so much emotion in me.
It hadn’t always
been like that.
My first impression
of Marla, when I saw her in the library all those years ago was that she was
pretty, but a stick in the mud. She was a little frumpy in her overalls and
plaid shirt.
Then she got all
feisty with me when I showed no interest in that stupid paper on Jane Eyre for
that damn Honors English class my dad pushed me into. Her big, brown doe eyes
had flashed with anger when I called her boring.
Most girls would
have twirled their hair and tried to win me over with a giggle and a smile.
Not Marla.
With tears in her
eyes, she told me off without a second thought. So much passion in each word as
she angrily picked up her notebook off the library table.
Whoa. She had all
of my attention as she stalked off, while I sat back, wondering who she was.
How had I not
noticed her before?
The sweet, brown
eyes?
The long lashes
that gave her an innocent, come-hither stare?
And that backside.
Heart-shaped.
Generous.
Hips for days.
Damn, I got a woody
just watching her walk away.
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