Forever Branded
Jessa Eden
Release day: May 23, 2015
Blurb
Marla was my first.
For everything.
I’d loved her so hard, I’d come apart at the seams when she left me.
I’ve never been the same since.
Now, I just wanted to punish her.
~Beau Shepard, ex-hockey player, turned real estate billionaire
Beau was the love of my life.
We met at eighteen and thought we would be together always.
Then we were ripped apart.
It didn’t matter.
There are no statute of limitations on love.
He was branded on my soul.
Forever.
~Marla Matthews, salon owner and kick-ass single mom
ADD IT TO GOODREADS
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.
