Title: Surrender To Me
Author: Monica James
Release Date: October 21, 2013
Genre: New Adult
“Do you like me more now?”
At the moment, I am trying to stop myself from liking him too much. But I’m pretty certain I am way too late, as the like ship, set sail a long time ago, and now I am faced with an endless sea of pure wanton need.
“Jasper...” I pause, unsure of what I want to say. “Let me take you home,” I finish off.
Jasper shakes his head, pulling me towards him so we are chest to chest.
“Answer my question first.”
His alcohol laced breath is fanning my cheeks, and for some reason, it is a total turn on. My hormones begin a striptease, hoping I listen to them and give in to my needs.
“Yes,” I reply simply, because it’s the truth.
Jasper leans forward, hovering over my mouth. “How much?”
I hold onto my breath, afraid if I breathe the wrong way, I might do something I know I shouldn’t.
“This much,” I say breathlessly, while stretching my thumb and forefinger as far as they will extend.
Jasper tongues his top lip. “Good. Okay, now let’s go home,” he says while pulling back with a smug look on his face, as he knows he has caused me to go weak at the knees.
How I wish his home was mine.
Ava Thompson left the love of her life, Jasper White, to unearth her destiny. Even though the decision was the toughest of her life, it was the only way for Ava to grow into the woman she’s always wanted to become.
Sadly, that destiny has led her back to the place that broke her.
And more importantly, it has led her back to the man who broke her.
But Ava is no longer the scared, lost girl she once was. Ava is stronger, and she will not allow her past, taint her future.
Six months later, Ava travels back to Los Angeles for an event that embraces the true meaning of love. Sadly for Ava, her meaning of true love has been lost.
And that’s because of one life changing event that has altered her life forever.
Los Angeles is not how Ava left it. Things have changed. People have changed. She has changed. But what has remained untouched is her passionate love for Jasper White.
But does Jasper feel the same?
Searching the venue for a couple of minutes, I don’t see Jasper anywhere, but I have an inkling as to where he will be. Exiting the building, the fresh breeze off the lake hits me in the face, and I sigh contentedly, because after the heated evening I’ve just had, I embrace the coolness.
Walking through the enchanted gardens at night is simply stunning, and it really will be breathtaking for V’s wedding tomorrow. I can smell lavender, lemongrass and fresh pine needles the further I extend into the gardens, and the smell is heavenly, and somewhat calming. I need all the serenity I can get at the moment, and will treasure anything to calm my racing heart.
Approaching the grassy hill, I find him where I thought he would be. He is standing near the red boathouse, overlooking the lake, while taking a drag of his cigarette.
Advancing cautiously, not wanting to startle him as he looks to be deep in thought, I watch the love of my life closely. His messy hair is catching in the gentle wind, ruffling it further, and I chew the inside of my cheek when I stop to take him in. He is simply beautiful. I know the word handsome is usually better suited to describe the opposite sex, but Jasper, he is nothing short of mind blowing.
He senses my approach, and turns around to face me. The hurt in his eyes drowns my heart in grief, and I mumble, “I’m sorry.”
But he doesn’t reply, he is merely motionless, searching my face. I shuffle slightly when I witness him raking over my body, from head to toe.
“You're mine,” he sneers after a minute of silence, meeting my eyes.
Nodding quickly, slightly stunned by his possessiveness, I whisper, “I am. I always have been.”
Prying open the window, I give him a small wave. “What are you doing here?” I whisper, cupping one hand to my mouth, not wanting to wake up V.
He pulls down his hood and I sigh at how handsome he looks, illuminated under the moonlight.
“Coming to tuck you in,” he replies, giving me a big dimpled smile.
I look down at his hand and notice he has a fistful of stones. That explains the tapping. Is it totally lame I find him throwing stones at my window in the middle of the night kinda cute?
Juvenile, but totally cute.
My knees buckle, and I lean over the edge of the windowpane.
“I thought you and Lucas had plans.” I emphasis the word plans, of course referring to his comment earlier about attending a stripclub.
He runs a hand through his hair, fisting it up into a messy mohawk. “I’m scared of V,” he replies.
I let out a giggle, but silence it quickly with my hand.
He rewards me with a big smile. “And anyways, there is only one girl I am interested in seeing naked,” he adds, while I nearly forget to swallow.
Me! Me! Me! I all but jump and down like a cheerleader on crack.
“Let me in so I can see that girl in all her naked glory. Although, you are totally rockin’ those rubber duckies,” he smirks, stepping on his tippy toes to get a better look at my pj’s.
As usual I have Jasper brain, and forgot I was standing in my childish prints. I try and cover myself and Jasper laughs huskily.
“Can I come in?” he asks, hopeful I will say yes.
Is he kidding? The problem will be getting him to leave after I have tied him to my bed and made him my prisoner, Kathy Bates style.
“Okay, let me unlock the door,” I reply, beaming as I close the window quietly.
I bounce down the stairs impatiently, and open the front door for him. He is standing on the porch with his hands in his pockets, biting his lip. And I can’t help myself, as I throw myself into him, burying my nose into his neck.
Luckily he catches me.
He chuckles. “Miss me?”
I pull back, kissing his cheek. “Always.”
Monica James spent her youth devouring the works of Anne Rice, William Shakespeare and Emily Dickinson. Listening to the likes of Elvis to Fiona Apple and everything in between has been her inspirational tool to write. Her varied musical and literary tastes have shaped her into the writer she has become. Monica partook in extra Literature and Writing studies in High School.
She studied a Bachelor of Arts, Humanities and Social Sciences at La Trobe University Victoria, Australia, majoring in Philosophy and Cinema Studies for three years. When she is not writing she is running her own business, but always finds a balance between the two. Monica enjoys reading honest, heartfelt and turbulent stories that leave an imprint on her. She put pen to paper because she wanted to write a book that she would want to read. She draws inspiration from her surroundings, hopeful others enjoy reading about the world as she sees it.
Monica’s Links and bio info:
Surrender to Me playlist:
Deleted Scene- Wishful Thinking
After the day I have just had, all I want to do is soak in the large tub and forget my troubles for an hour.
My eyes drift shut and after a while, everything begins to become blurred and muddled, and I know I am dreaming. My other senses are on high alert, as my vision is totally shaded- so I am relying on my other four senses to get me through, without being totally blindsighted.
My sense of hearing prickles in awareness as the bathroom door closes softly, and the soft patter of bare feet, glides along the tiled floor.
My sense of smell inhales the woody, familiar fragrance, which has my sense of taste, salivating in desire. But it’s my sense of touch, which has every single one of my senses, running crazy laps around the moon.
His warm, welcoming fingers caress my wet, soapy skin, and I can’t help the mewl which passes through my parted lips, desperate to feel more.
“You’re so soft,” the familiar voice murmurs as he strokes the exposed flesh of my knee, which sits above the bathwater.
My insides are screaming at me to pull away, but I can’t. I want him. I always have, and I don’t think that’ll ever stop.
The soft touch continues down my leg, and stops upper thigh. I am afraid to speak, or move, because I know once I do, the dream will shatter and reality will take over and become my nightmare.
“Don’t leave me,” I say, barely above a whisper.
“I never could. We belong together, Ava.”
My heart sings in joy because he wants me. Jasper White wants me as much as I want him.
Nodding slowly, I whimper as I feel his fingers crawl higher up my thigh. But suddenly, his fingers feel wrong. They are broad and clumsy, not elegant or warm like the fingers of whom I know by heart.
Inhaling deeply, I realize the familiar scent is not the one I wished it was. It’s stronger and sharper, and I want to recoil, to pull away.
But the fingers keep crawling higher and higher, attempting to seek entrance into a place I do not grant him permission to enter.
I will my eyes open, because this is sure to become a nightmare, quick smart, if I don’t stop him.
When I see the aroused eyes of my fiancée, my heart continues to gallop in my chest, traumatized by the fact that it’s his hands on me, and not that of the man I want with every morsel of my soul.
My five senses are fired because they have tricked me into thinking that the touch was that of Jasper, not of that of the man I am going to marry.
Not of the man I so desperately need to forget.
Passengers of Ego links:
passengersofego.bigcartel.com (where you can purchase the cd and tshirts)
Jasper’s POV- Surrender to Me
Who the hell is Dominique?
And why the hell is V being pushier than usual to get me here by 7pm?
Slamming my truck door shut, I have a bad feeling that once I enter through the doors of Dominique’s, my life will never be the same.
My heart starts pacing like a runaway train, and with every step I take, it just keeps getting faster and faster. What the hell is the matter with me?
As I shoulder the glass doors open, I am like a bloodhound onto a scent because suddenly, my nose is leading me into the direction of a delectable, familiar fragrance. I know that perfume, and it’s not manufactured in a store somewhere. No, this smell is one that belongs to the only woman in the world, who throws me on my ass, time and time again.
My brain ends up in my feet, as I am racing toward that scent like a starved man, stumbling across his first meal in months because that’s how I feel. I feel like I have been in hibernation since then, since my life changed forever.
I mumble an incoherent apology to the person I just shouldered past like madman to get to where I want, no, where I need to be.
But I stop dead in my tracks and nearly tumble to the ground when I see her. The girl I have dreamt about ever since I walked out on her all those months ago.
My heart pounds against my ribcage as the memory of our breakup replays like a mini movie over and over, and I feel like I’ve just been kicked in the balls.
Why is she here? And why does she have to look so fucking beautiful?
I can’t speak, I am shell shocked.
And when she meets my eyes, she looks just as confused as I.
Suddenly, months of wanting and desire, and anger and betrayal, come crashing down like a fucking tsunami, and my mouth opens before I can stop myself.
“What the FUCK is she doing here?”
I automatically kick my own ass when I see the hurt and shame pass over her perfect features. Fuck me, I am such an asshole, and I feel even worse when I see her stumble slightly with my fucked up, choice of words.
She looks just as I remember, no actually, she doesn’t, she looks better. She is my fantasy, wrapped in a perfect, tiny parcel.
“Sooo, I guess now would be a good time to tell you both,” V says, breaking my trance like stare.
I need answers, and I need them now.
“Tell us what? Lucas, what the hell is going on?” I ask, looking at Lucas who is uncomfortably holding up a suit.
That suit looks freakin’ tiny, way too small for Lucas.
Then it all clicks into place...fuck me.
My brain is mush, drowning in her fragrance, but I know a setup when I see one. No wonder V was so adamant I was to be here by 7.
Lost in thoughts of strangling my best friend, it isn’t until I hear a soft intake of breath which slams me back into reality. I meet her shy, brown eyes and I swear to Christ, my pants twitch in excitement when I see the way her longing gaze feasts upon my mouth, which I am subconsciously chewing the hell outta.
What is she doing? Why is she looking at me like that?
After all this time, why is she looking at me like she still wants me?
She made her feelings crystal fucking clear when she threw my apology back into my face, and ignored me when I tried my hardest to express how sorry I was.
I was a total jackass for walking out on her, and not contacting her right away. But I needed time, after finding out she was still in contact with that asshat, Harper, I needed time to cool down- without wanting to kill that son of a bitch.
Memories of that damn voice message slash away at my reality, and the feeling of rejection floods me.
“So, is anyone going to answer my question, or did I just walk into the twilight zone?” I asks a little more heatedly than intended.
Fuck, zip it you jerk, I scold myself again, as I witness her full, luscious mouth dip into a saddened frown.
She shyly raises her eyes, and my god, I think I just forgot to breathe when she meets my eyes.
Peering at her like a mute chump, I allow myself to rewind to a time when Ava and I were happy. When she was my everything- my reason to breathe. And I wish I could go back to that time.
But feelings of insecurity overcome me, and all I can recall is how she just ignored me when I tried to tell her how sorry I was. I wrote her every day, and I sent her flowers. I never called her because I was too afraid of what she would say to me.
Yes, I am a gutless coward, but I still showed her I cared. She on the other hand, she just fucking tore my heart out as each day passed without a single word.
Suddenly, my eyes are drawn to her chest like a magnet, something I failed to notice, up until now. Something I wish I never saw, because now goddammit, that’s all I can focus on.
I can see the lush, creamy skin of her exposed breasts, and my mouth waters, begging for a taste.
I scold myself for being such a perverse creep as I witness her blush a deep crimson, which spreads a nice shade of pink across her chest.
As she pulls the lapels across her chest, I know I am totally busted, but I don’t care.
I cannot stop looking at her because this woman will be the death of me, and I was just stupid to think I was ever in control.
She must feel me undressing her indecently because I feel the air in the room shift. I do the polite thing and take a physical step back, but emotionally, Ava Thompson has just drawn me in, and funnily enough, she didn’t have to try very hard.
I am hers. I always have been.
And I always will be.
I knew once I entered these doors, nothing would ever be the same.
I just never anticipated how much so.
POE’s debut song Set Me Free Lyric Video:
Direct Link: http://youtu.be/MwDFfT-AtxQ
Grand Prize of a signed copy of Surrender To Me, swag, Passengers of Ego CD and a T-shirt.
3 Amazon Ebook copies of Surrender to Me