The Micah and Emma Series
by Jessa Eden
Micah, the fierce falls hard for Emma, the brave
Release Day: November 1


What follows is an adventure that will change their lives forever. Packed with raw emotion, heartbreak, deception, hope, redemption and love, this 7 part series will pull you under into the delicious world of Micah and Emma.

I didn't do love or relationships. I didn't need anyone. But, my dick loved the ladies. I always had plenty of beautiful women throwing themselves at me. What can I say? Being a professional athlete came with lots of perks. Sex being the best kind of perk. I figured each one night stand got a story about sleeping with Micah Turner and I got laid. Simple and uncomplicated. No emotion. No connection. No baggage. I was my own man, content to stay that way. Until I met Emma Matthews—hot, curvy, and so sweet I wanted to eat her up. She rocked my world and turned it upside down. She made me feel things I never thought possible. What the hell was I going to do with her?
~Micah Turner


I wanted love in my life. Mad passion. Aching tenderness. True partnership. I knew adoring a man was a beautiful and messy ordeal, but I craved all of the highs and lows of letting someone into my life. But, where, oh where to find such a man? I didn't have time to search for the right guy as I was too busy with the salon I owned with my sister, Marla. So, fate decided to drop Micah Turner into my lap one night. Wowzer. With one smoldering stare, he hooked me, line and sinker. He saw something in me that made me want to take a chance and be bold for once in my life. Oh, I was so brave with him. He looked tough, but I was able to see past his gruff exterior and recognize his flawed humanity, scarred heart and raw soulfulness. He was the entire package...except his inability to stay connected to another human being. He feared intimacy. I loved it. He didn't know shit about love or relationships and it showed. If he wanted a real relationship with me, he was going to have to work his butt off. ~Emma Matthews


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Standing on the side of a lonely hill in East Texas, I picked up some dirt and threw it on the grave, trying to keep my emotions in check. Relief and disappointment flooded me as they lowered her into the ground.
I was alone, now...completely and totally.
It was not like I wasn’t used to being by myself, but the last person I shared blood with was now lying in the ground. It was a funny feeling to realize I was the last of my line.
It wasn’t a very distinguished family tree; in fact, good riddance to most of them, but this loss bothered me more than I cared to admit. I didn’t think I ever really understood what it meant to be a part of a family, and now, I never would.
Hold up, time out.
What was that?
Did I just hear you sighing, “Ahhh, poor guy. He doesn't have a family?”
Don't get sappy on me.
You've got it all wrong.
I wasn't looking to be part of some big, happy family where everybody was in each other's business. People made things messy. I wasn't interested in messy. That was why I played by my own rules. Life was much simpler that way.
I walked back down to my Silver Porsche 918 Spyder, jumped in and tore out of the cemetery. I couldn't get out of there quick enough. That place reminded me I wouldn't live forever. I wasn't about to dwell on that little fact.
Heading back toward the city, the wind whipped through my open window. The hot, sticky Dallas air cooled a bit as the sun receded below the horizon.
I shifted into fifth gear, trying to shake the restlessness gnawing at me. It had yet to be named, but burned in my chest all the same.
The right thing to do was to head back to my loft and crash as I had an early morning practice the next day. But I was too agitated to sleep. I needed a distraction.
Before I knew it, I found myself at one of my favorite hotel bars. It was a familiar place that allowed me to unwind after a hard day. The aroma of cedar smoke drifted over me as I sauntered through the bar.
There was always a group of old men who sat together in the back room and reminisced about the good old days. They laughed uproariously at each other's stories while puffing on expensive cigars. The high life.
I bellied up to the bar and took a seat on the end so I could watch the hockey game. I loosened up my tie and ordered a scotch.
I contemplated the day's sad event as I settled into a high back barstool. I had been the only one to attend my grandmother's funeral. Eve, as she preferred to be called, had finally passed after a long bout of emphysema.
We had never been close. She was as crusty as stale bread and had never shown much maternal instinct, especially to her kid’s mistake.
But that hadn't stopped me from moving her into a nursing home near my loft and paying a load of cash so she received the best care available.
Besides that, I stopped in to see her on Christmas and Easter. I would bring her a box of Godiva chocolates, which she never ate. She'd glanced indifferently at the box, and over the whirl of her oxygen tank, she'd say in that raspy voice of hers, “Thanks, kid. Gotta cigarette?”
I'd shake my head no and she'd say, “Too bad. I really need one.”
And that was the extent of our relationship.
Despite my grandmother's negligence, I had grown up, carved out a successful career, and had more money than I could ever spend in a lifetime.
I didn't need anybody.
I took another sip of my scotch, feeling its burn run down my throat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a leggy blonde take a seat close to me at the bar. She ordered a Cosmopolitan and turned her attention my way. I could feel her eyes drinking me in as she wondered which pick-up line to use.
I wasn’t really in the mood after the day I’d had, but I was never one to turn away a willing woman. She must have sensed a direct approach was best and addressed me.
“You’re Micah Turner, aren’t you...the hockey player?” She turned toward me, her bright smile reminding me of a game show host's.
I soaked her in as I stared boldly at her body. Her long, gorgeous legs led up to a decent figure that was bound in a tight, short, red dress. She looked pulled together, polished in that plastic kind of way with her makeup and long, blonde curly hair a little too perfect.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said slowly, giving her an appreciative stare.
Her blue steel gaze glinted in the way a hunter zeroes in on her prey. “That was quite a game you had against Minnesota.” She paused, contemplating her next move. “I enjoyed watching you work up a sweat.”
She was pouring it on thick. “Mm-hmm,” I mumbled into my scotch as I turned my attention back to the hockey game on the flat screen TV. I wasn't going to make this too easy for her.
I saw her lift from her seat and drape herself onto the stool next to mine. She was wearing one of those cloying floral perfumes I detested, but I smiled at her anyway.
Her hand found my knee, while her long, red fingertips gripped my thigh. Her eyes lit up with another seductive gleam, stalking me. “You wanna work my corners, tonight?” Her voice oozed with innuendo.
I entertained her offer as her hand rubbed up and down my thigh. I had a shitty day, and burying myself inside a willing woman might just be the release I needed.
She was a decent distraction.
She would do.
I undressed her with my eyes. “Yeah, baby. I'll work your corners. I'll work you hard and rough until you're begging me to stop.”
She swallowed hard, absorbing my words as her eyes grew bright with erotic excitement. “I like it rough.” Her manicured hand dovetailed into my crotch. “That's a meaty cock you've got there,” she breathed out as her flawless face grew close to mine.
I smiled, letting my wicked charm work its magic. “I'll take you on a long, hot ride on my dick. Is that what you want?”
She nodded as her eyes half-closed in desire. I suggested we head up to my hotel room and she eagerly agreed. I had an arrangement with the hotel and kept a suite for such occasions.
As we moved across the hotel lobby, I put my hand on the small of her back, leading her toward the elevator. Women loved chivalrous shit liked that. It made them prime pickings.
As we waited for the elevator, she glanced up at me, stars in her eyes. Ah, she was playing the innocent. I could already feel her trying to get her hooks into me. No way, no how.
We entered the empty elevator and I hit the tenth floor button. The familiar ding of the doors closing rang out, calling me to move. I stepped in front of her quickly, my hand shooting up and palming the side of her cheek as I brought her face close to mine.
I held there for a moment, letting her know I was in charge and we were playing things my way. Her hand ran along my side, giving consent to what was about to happen.
“You ready, baby? You gonna give it up?”
“Yes.” She wagged her head back and forth quickly.
She was mine now, at least for the next hour.
My lips fell on hers, demanding submission. Ravishing her red-glossed lips, I plunged my tongue deeply into her mouth as I threw her against the railing, lifting her leg and ramming my hips into hers.
She gasped in surprise, but came back at me like the tiger she was. She wrapped her arms around my back, throwing her modest tits against my chest as she ground her pussy into my dick, letting me know she had played this game before.
Not so innocent after all.
I possessed her mouth entirely, not letting her up for air as my tongue fucked her mouth roughly. I worked her overtime as my hand slid around to the back of her neck; my other hand kept her hips intimate with mine.
She moaned breathlessly as we made out, my cock responding to the sexy sounds she made in the back of her throat.
I loved the game of getting a woman into bed....

Author Bio:

Over the last couple of years, writing has become a passion of mine. I pour my heart into each one of my stories, letting my characters go wherever they dare to venture. They often surprise and amuse me. I revel in exploring the human condition through the art of storytelling. 
Nothing gives me more pleasure than drawing you into a world of emotional connection, compelling characters and hopeful adventure, complete with sizzle and sensuality. My goal is to leave you breathless and panting for more...


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