by M. S. Force
He stretches out on top of me and looks at me with awe and amazement etched into his expression, as if he, too, is wondering what he did to get so lucky. Taking my hands, he places them over my head. “Keep them there,” he says gruffly.
“Why?”
Raising his head, he meets my gaze, lifting a brow in inquiry.
“Why do you always want my hands out of the way? I want to touch you.”
“I, um… I don’t always want them out of the way.”
“Yes, you do. Nearly every time.”
“Oh, ah, well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
I bring one of my hands to his face to caress his cheek. “Tell me why it matters to you.”
He exhales a ragged sigh and drops his head to my chest. “He would hit me. Any time I failed to properly answer his questions, any time I was unable to fake enthusiasm for the things he wanted to teach me, any time I was less than what he wanted in a son.”
I wrap my arms around him and cradle his head to my chest, all the while blinking back tears for the boy who’d tried so hard to be what his father wanted him to be.
“The worst was when I told him I’d turned down all the schools he made me apply to, and the only one left was USC film school. He broke my jaw that day.”
“God, Jasper.” A sob hiccups through me, and tears fall from my eyes. “What about your mother? Where was she?”
“She never knew about it. She was in Cornwall when that happened. I showed up at school with my jaw wired shut and my face so bruised I was barely recognizable to myself. But I refused to let him take that away from me. I told people I’d been in a car accident. Until now, the only way I could really let go with a lover was to ensure her hands were out of the equation.”
I comb my fingers through his hair, wishing I could crawl inside him and personally eradicate every scar on his soul. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want you to pity me, Ellie. I would hate that.”
“Pity is the least of what I feel for you. I’m so damned proud of you for standing up to him when you were so young, for following your dream no matter what it cost you. Look at where that dream has taken you—to the very top of your profession.”
“And it’s brought me right here to you.”
“That, too. I’ll never touch you with anything other than love on my mind.”
Raising his head from my chest, he kisses away my tears. “Don’t cry for me, sweet Ellie.”
“Only happy tears from now on.” I keep my arms around him as he settles between my legs, his cock hard and hot against my core.
“Remember the project that brought us together in the first place?”
“How could I forget?”
“We’ve gotten a little sidetracked in the last couple of days, and I believe there was a schedule we were to keep to.”
“I’m feeling very sick and very fertile.”
“Mmm, I do so love when you talk dirty to me, darling.”
In keeping with the slow theme of the day, he enters me in teasing increments, going deep before retreating over and over again, leaving me desperate for more, which I suspect is his intention. The next time, I keep him from escaping by curling my legs around his hips.
Chuckling, he brushes his lips over mine. “It seems you’ve completely trapped me, my love.”
I smile up at him. “That was my evil plan all along.”
“I’ve never been so happy to be trapped in all my life.”
Epilogue
Jasper and I stand together in the bathroom, looking down upon the array of plastic sticks on the vanity. My heart is beating so hard and so fast that I fear I may hyperventilate. Per Dr. Breslow’s advice, we made ourselves wait until my period was officially a week late before we took the tests, and now that the moment is upon us, I can’t bear to look.
I close my eyes and say a silent prayer. I’ve waited too long to try to have a baby. It would’ve been easier when I was younger. But back then, I didn’t have Jasper standing by my side, his arm around my shoulders, the heat of his body warming the chill that’s taken me over as the fears multiply with every second it takes for the tests to do their thing.
I turn my face into his chest. “I can’t stand it.”
“My poor darling.” I want that voice to be the last thing I hear before I leave this life. “How could you not be pregnant with the effort we’ve put forth over the last few weeks?”
How could I not love a man who makes me laugh when I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been in my life? But that’s how it is with Jasper. He knows just what to say to me to calm my fears, soothe my hurts and set me on fire with the kind of desire I never knew existed until I had him.
We’re in Cornwall visiting his mother for a week, and we’ve had the best time exploring his childhood home, going on long hikes and having picnics in remote corners of the estate where we’ve made love outdoors more times than I can count. It’s been a peaceful, restful escape from the madness that overtook us in LA after our interview with Carolyn aired.
The revelations of Jasper’s pedigree, his new relationship with Flynn Godfrey’s sister and the timing of his father’s latest folly combined to set off a feeding frenzy during an otherwise slow news week. I now have a much better understanding of what Flynn deals with on a regular basis, although how he can stand it is a mystery to me.
Jasper suggested we escape to Cornwall, so here we are. I received the warmest possible welcome from his mother, and I’ve met two of his sisters and their families. I already feel right at home with the Kingsleys. We haven’t heard a word from Jasper’s father, and he’s said he doesn’t expect to hear from him, especially after he managed to lure Nathan away. It’s probably better if I don’t meet Henry, as I’d probably make one hell of a scene letting him know what I think of a man who would treat his own son the way he has treated Jasper. Greg Thompson turned over the original images and video from the clubs to Devon Black, who pressed charges against his former security chief.
We finally relaxed somewhat when Devon let us know that the images had been destroyed. We’re still trying to track down the private investigator who followed Jasper, and Gordon is making headway there, too. We won’t completely relax until all the images of Jasper in compromising situations have been located and destroyed.
“Let’s talk about something else while we wait,” Jasper suggests. “Such as the news from home about Aileen and the kids moving to LA. How about that?”
“I’m so glad they’re coming.”
“I’ve never heard Kris so excited about anything.”
“Do you have the scoop on how it came about?”
“He said that when Maddie and Logan cried when it was time to go home, Nat suggested that Aileen move to LA, and the kids begged her to do it. Hayden offered her the receptionist job that’s open at Quantum. Flynn promised to help her find a place to live, and Kris said he’d do whatever he could to help them get settled.”
“They put on the full-court press, huh?”
“They certainly did, and it worked. She’s letting the kids finish the school year in New York, and then they’ll be relocating.”
“Such great news.”
“Kris is crazy about her, not that he’ll admit it to me, but it’s obvious to anyone who knows him.”
“I’d say it’s quite mutual. She lights up in his presence.”
“I can’t wait to see what happens with them,” Jasper says. “You know who else lights up around a man?”
“Who?”
“Leah whenever Emmett is in the room.”
“That’d be an interesting pairing. She’d keep him on his toes.”
“Indeed, she would,” he says with a chuckle. “Shall we take a look, my love?”
I groan and press my face deeper into his chest. “You do it. I can’t.”
“We’re looking for two lines, right?”
“Muh-huh.” His shirt muffles my voice. I close my eyes as tight as I can and hold my
breath.
“Darling… Take a look.”
“I can’t.”
“You’re going to want to see this.”
Still holding my breath, I turn slowly, preparing myself for any possibility. I open my eyes and blink the strips of plastic into focus. There’re double lines everywhere I look. “Oh my God! Oh my God, Jasper! We did it! We really did it!”
“We did it and we did it and we did it some more, and you’re thoroughly and completely preggers, my love.”
I bring both hands to my mouth, as if that could possibly contain the sob that erupts from the deepest part of me. We did it.
He holds me tight as the emotions tumble out of me in a mess of tears and sobs and probably some not-so-attractive snot. I’ve never been this happy. Ever.
Then he drops to his knees before me, and I gasp.
“My dear darling, Ellie, who gave me the courage to fight for the life I want more than I’ve ever wanted anything, will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife now that I’ve thoroughly and completely knocked you up?”
I’m laughing. I’m crying. I’m beside myself with joy as I nod and whisper, “Yes,” in response to his adorable proposal. Then he tops himself by sliding a purple pacifier on the third finger of my left hand, and I lose it all over again, realizing he planned this so perfectly.
He stands and gathers my soggy self into his arms. “Mother gave me my grandmother’s ring to give to you. I hope you love it, but if you don’t, we’ll get you one you do love.”
“That’s so lovely of your mum, but I don’t care about the ring. That doesn’t matter. This… Us… This is what matters.”
He tightens his hold on me. “I love you desperately, Estelle Godfrey Junior. Only you. Forever.”
“I love you, too, my lord.” I love to tease him by calling him that. “Thank you for making all my dreams come true.”
“Trust me, my darling. It was entirely my pleasure.”
Thank you for reading Ravenous! I hope you enjoyed Jasper and Ellie’s story as much as I loved writing it. If you did, please consider helping other readers to find it by leaving a review at the retailer of your choice as well as at Goodreads. Join the Ravenous Reader Group after you’ve finished the book to dish about Jasper and Ellie with spoilers allowed. Join the Quantum Series Reader Group to be the first to hear about new books and other series news, and watch for more of the Quantum Series in 2017.
Special thanks to author friend Victoria Connolly for her help with all things British, as well as Michelle Farrell, former London resident, both of whom provided feedback that helped to make Jasper’s character as true to life as I could get him. Any errors in British syntax are all mine. Thank you to author friend Sarah Mayberry for her astute feedback and to my beta readers, Anne Woodall, Ronlyn Howe and Kara Conrad, for their input.
As always, a shout out to my amazing team: Julie Cupp, CMP, Lisa Cafferty, CPA, Holly Sullivan, Isabel Sullivan, Nikki Colquhoun and Cheryl Serra, as well as our Designing Women, Courtney Lopes and Ashley Lopez, who is responsible for the gorgeous new Quantum covers. My sincere thanks to Gregg, Caroline and Kelsea at Sullivan & Partners for their amazing marketing and publicity support.
Thank you to all the readers who’ve embraced the Quantum cast over the last two years. Much more to come!
xoxo
Marie
Coming Soon from Marie Force
Her first standalone novel in five years…
SEX MACHINE
He’s good for one thing and one thing only—and she wants it bad.
Honey Carmichael has never had a decent orgasm, and she’s out to change that with the one man in town known for his superior abilities between the sheets.
Blake Dempsey is happy to help Honey with her “problem” as long as she knows he’s only interested in sex. His heart was broken when his high school girlfriend was killed in the car he was driving, and he has nothing to offer other than more orgasms than Honey can handle.
Which is just fine with her—until fantastic orgasms aren’t enough anymore for either of them and unexpected feelings turn hot sex into messy entanglement—and that most definitely wasn’t in the plans.
But you know what they say about plans…
A sexy, dirty stand-alone romance intended for MATURE audiences. If you can’t take the heat in Blake’s bedroom, stay out or you might get burned. You’ve been warned!
Keep reading for an excerpt from SEX MACHINE!
Sex Machine
Chapter 1
Honey
“I want you to fuck me.” I’m proud of the fact that I never blink as I stare into the baby blues of the man I just blatantly propositioned. In public, no less.
Blake Dempsey chokes on a mouthful of beer, his eyes watering as beer meets lungs in an unholy alliance.
For the first time since I walked into the dark, dank bar, my resolve begins to waver as I question the wisdom of this mission. But if I don’t take the bull by the horns, literally, I might never know why everyone else makes such a big freaking deal about sex. My best friend, Lauren, has assured me that Blake Dempsey is the answer to my most pressing problem. And she speaks from experience.
Tentatively, I pat him on the back, hoping to get him breathing again so we can get back to our conversation, such as it is. Let’s face it—he’s no use to me dead.
As he continues to hack beer out of his airway, people begin to take notice of us, which is the exact opposite of what I wanted. I’d planned to come into the dive bar where Blake has his end-of-the-day beer at exactly six thirty every night before heading home—alone—make my proposition and walk out of there with him.
I hadn’t counted on him choking on his beer or having the eyes of every man in the place on me as I wait for him to recover and give me an answer. What if he says no? Men never say no to Honey Carmichael, which is part of my problem. I have a reputation for attracting them like bees to. . . well, honey. But I’ve never been tempted to keep one of them, thus my well-earned reputation as a love ’em and leave ’em kind of gal.
It’s not my fault that I’m blessed with thick honey-blonde hair, brown eyes that made the boys start simpering over me in fifth grade and a rack that’s been getting me in trouble since high school. Not to mention the long legs that somehow manage to stay tanned year round and an ass that Tommy Lonergan once referred to as a work of art. So I’ve had my share of men. So what? The one thing I’ve never had is a decent orgasm with a man, which is why I’m still alone at almost thirty and happy that way. Most of the time.
Blake finally quits sputtering long enough to look up at me with eyes still watery from coughing. “You wanna run that by me again?”
“You heard me right the first time.” I resist the urge to fidget and hold his steady gaze.
His steely blue eyes seem to look right through me, as if searching for the truth behind my blatant invitation. As he runs his fingers through a short crop of dirty blond hair, his entire torso ripples with muscles.
My mouth waters at the thought of all those muscles wrapped around me. I lick my lips as my nipples stand up to take notice and my pussy clenches in anticipation. From what I’m told by a reliable source named Lauren, Blake has the biggest cock in town and knows how to use it. That thought causes the throbbing between my legs to intensify. When desperate times call for desperate measures, I believe in hiring the best man for the job. And these are most definitely desperate times.
“What brought this on?” His sexy drawl and the relaxed way he occupies the bar stool belie the intensity of his stare. To look at him, filthy from a day of hard, physical labor, one might dismiss him as just another working man.
One would be mistaken.
Blake runs the most successful construction and renovation business in the area, and judging by his grimy appearance, he works as hard as the many men he employs. On him, the grime only makes him more appealing.
“Did you finally run out of guys to fuck in this town? No one left but me?”
I can’t deny that I’ve probably had too much sex, looking for the elusive something that has other women waxing poetic about the act. To me, it’s nothing special, two bodies coming together to expend some energy. Big deal. I’ve never understood what all the hoopla is about, a sentiment I recently shared with Lauren. After she finished laughing at me, Lauren had said, “If you want to know what the hoopla is about, you need to fuck Blake Dempsey.”
Lauren ought to know. She’d been Blake’s fuck buddy for a short time years ago and had declared him an absolute machine in bed. Lauren assures me that doing the deed with Blake will result in nonstop orgasms and pleasure unlike anything I can possibly imagine. “One night with him,” Lauren had said, “and you won’t wonder anymore.”
“You wouldn’t care?” I’d asked my friend.
Lauren had shrugged. “It was just sex between us. That’s all he’s capable of. Everyone knows that. A girl would be a fool to fall for him, so I took what I could get, and when it was over, it was over. It was a long time ago. Have at him and The Cock.”
Even though I’ve known Blake all my life and have never once considered him boyfriend material—mostly because my best friend dated him ages ago—I’m desperate enough to know what I’ve been missing out on to walk into a bar and utter a sentence that no doubt has my dear, sweet grandmother rolling in her grave.
I can’t think about what Gran would have to say about me unashamedly propositioning a man. All I can think about since the conversation with Lauren a week ago are the words “machine” and “nonstop orgasms.” The best orgasms I’ve ever had are the ones I’ve given myself, thus my need for Blake and his legendary cock.
“Are you gonna answer the question?” Blake drawls.