Jasper Vale Quotes

The next time you talk about any other man inside this body, I’ll spank your ass so red you won’t sit for a week.

Eloise Eden was mine. And I was hers. Until the end.

Don’t run away from me. Don’t pretend that you don’t know what it feels like when I’m fucking you.

The thunder to his lightning. We were a storm. Two souls lost in the pouring rain.

I’d missed her. I wasn’t supposed to miss her. Fuck, but I was tired. Tired of holding up my hand, keeping her at a distance. Tired of pretending that sex between us was our only connection.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this pussy.” His finger eased out, shifting to my clit. “What have you done to me?

You’re yelling at my wife.

We can’t get married.” “Why not?” the guy asked, still walking, his arms raised. “Yeah,” Jasper said. “Why not?

I like perfect,” I murmured. “I like imperfect too. I like wild and reckless moments that you never forget.

A cuddler. Of course I’d marry a woman who cuddled. I loathed cuddling.

I could stare at this naked man for days and not get enough.

The Clover Chapel.

This is a private conversation." "You're yelling at my wife.

This woman. She really didn't understand, did she? This imaginary lock to my heart? I didn't have the key. I'd handed it to her weeks ago.

It was a kiss between two people who hadn’t memorized each other’s mouths yet but were cramming in every detail, like there’d be a test tomorrow and we were hellbent on a crash course.

But that was another part of Vegas’s appeal. This city welcomed all shapes and sizes. A couple could get married by Elvis beneath the glow of neon lights at a chapel that offered ninety-nine-dollar weekday specials. Or they could come here.

My parents stopped by. We need to go to the ranch for dinner tomorrow.” I braced, just like I had at the hotel. Shoulders pinned. Breath held. That muscle – the angry muscle – feathered Jasper’s jaw. “I’m not one for family functions.” “And I’m not one for anal play but I still let you shove your finger up my ass last night.

Last night was the ultimate example of Vegas’s poison. Eloise, a pure, beautiful woman, had been corrupted by Sin City. Tainted by a man whose demons had come out to play.

You married a stranger. In secret. And you hid it from us. I’m going to fucking yell.” “Griff—” A strong arm wrapped around my shoulders, stopping another lame apology. Jasper hauled me backward, flush against his chest. “That’s enough.” Griffin’s gaze leveled on Jasper. “This is a private conversation.” “You’re yelling at my wife.

Would he miss me? I’d miss him. Now. Later. I was afraid that I’d miss him for the rest of my life.

Why was it so hard to align a head and a heart?

This is a private conversation. You're yelling at my wife.

There were two types of ads. Some were from parents eager to offer a shedload of merits to marry off their children up-color, such as this one: 21-yr female (R: 32.2%, Y: 12%), strong virtues. Handsome and helpful, with impressive feedback rating. Seeks Chromogentsia-plus family. Brings 4,125 merits and 47 sheep. Delivery negotiable, option to refuse retained. Viewing at Ochre-in-the-Vale, PO6 5AD. On the other side of the coin were parents willing to trade down-Spectrum in order to receive a shedload of merits, like this dodgy chap:

had been with Boswell and SO-27 for eight years, living in a Maida Vale apartment with Pickwick, a regenerated pet dodo left over from the days when reverse extinction was all the rage

It turned quiet. Too quiet. He might be okay with these long stretches of silence but they made me squirm. The vinyl beneath my thighs squeaked. He had a right to be angry. So did I. But the damage had been done. By both parties. Hiding this marriage was no longer an option.

Tonight had been a much-needed break. I only wished it weren’t coming to an end.

It should have felt different, seeing her again after all this time. How many years had I spent fixated on that woman? How many hours had I dwelled on the past? Countless. Every one of them pointless.

This wedding had been a test. A chance for me to see if I was still that man from a decade ago. I wasn’t. And I wasn’t the man Samantha thought she knew. Not anymore. Done. I was done with Sam. It wouldn’t be hard to ignore that next phone call. My attention swung from the dance floor to my parents. I was done with them too.

Having loving, attentive parents hadn’t been in the cards I’d been dealt. Like seeing Sam, maybe that should have bothered me. But tonight, I just didn’t fucking care. The only person in this room deserving of my affection was in a lavender dress.

What could anyone possibly say about your dress or your hair?” She was the most breathtaking woman in the room, more stunning than even the bride.

That sensation I’d had at The Eloise before we’d left Montana hit me again. Those roots kept tugging. I’d thought they had something to do with Montana, with my growing connection to Quincy. But it had always been her.

The Eloise who’d captivated me in Vegas, the woman who voiced whatever thought was in her head, had reappeared. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips pink. She was breathtaking. The most beautiful woman in the room—in any room.

My hand slid along Jasper’s, my fingers skating over the knuckles on his left hand. His bare left hand. The ring I’d bought him had disappeared. For all I knew, he’d thrown it in the trash. He didn’t wear rings. Fine. Part of me still hoped that maybe . . . maybe mine would be his exception.

My family was fully capable of running my hotel, yet I was struggling to disconnect.

I rose on my toes, fluttering my tongue against his, needing to hear that low growl in his chest. The desire for me, not Sam. Me.

This hotel . . .” “Beautiful, isn’t it?” “It’s a dream.” Jasper hummed. “I prefer a quaint little hotel in Quincy, Montana.” “Funny.” I looked up, finding his gaze waiting. I’d expected to see some teasing there, but he was dead serious, wasn’t he? He liked The Eloise better than this? I loved Jasper for that. I loved Jasper. Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with my husband.

And this time when I faced the room, I was met with a pair of jealous hazel eyes. Maybe she was beautiful. But my blue eyes were jewels compared to her muddy irises. My cheeks were beginning to hurt from this saccharine smile, but I didn’t falter as I met her icy glare. Fuck you too, Samantha.

I’m sorry.” Somehow, I’d been sucked into this weird vortex because I sounded as cold and detached as the rest of them. So I took a long sip of champagne. Alcohol, save me. Tonight, I was going to need it.

Was that my calling? I’d never felt like I had some grand purpose in life. I was a man content to help someone else achieve their dreams. First Foster. Then Eloise.

I own a hotel.” He chuckled. “You own a hotel.” “Oh my God, I own a hotel. My hotel.” Jasper tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Dream come true?” Only because he was here. “And then some.

After the shooting, I’d considered it. Especially those first few days back at work when I’d hated every second, forcing smiles and pretending like the world was only sunshine and rainbows. When I’d had to stare at the spot where a kid had died. The kid who would have murdered me because I’d fired him from a part-time job.

If our sex life had been invigorating before, now that we weren’t faking anything, we were insatiable. He teased that since he was here at the hotel instead of working out with Foster, it was my job to make sure he stayed in shape.

We didn’t need a gown or a tux. Our love story wasn’t typical. It certainly wasn’t what I’d imagined as a little girl. But it was ours.

Jasper lifted me off the ground, waiting until my arms encircled his shoulders, before he swept me inside. Then he ripped away my towel. And used it to clean the dirt from my feet.

I’d miss the touching when this was over. Not so much the cuddling.

He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. My gaze caught on his hand, pressed against the floor at our sides. His left hand. And on his finger, the wedding band I’d given him weeks ago.

That was okay. I’d wait. For Jasper Vale, I’d wait until the end of my days.

I knew his parents had never taught him about love. I knew that Samantha’s version of love had come with conditions and manipulations and limits.

A lightness settled into my bones as I left the A-frame. My mental to-do list reshuffled as I drove into town, making room for a new item at the top. Change my last name. “Eloise Vale.” Yeah, I liked the sound of that.

I was learning to read Jasper. To hear him even when he didn’t speak.

How many people had told Jasper they loved him? Not enough. Shame on me for waiting.

Mine did not. He’d realize that. If I told him enough, he’d learn what true love looked like.

But he hadn’t shot her. I sagged against the counter, the crash coming. Eloise was okay. She was okay. If I had lost her today, if I hadn’t been fast enough . . . Fuck, I could have lost her.

It had been two excruciating weeks, and I was desperate for sex with Eloise. I needed that physical connection. A reminder that we were good. Alive.

I shuddered, knowing just how close I’d been to losing Eloise.

We’d found this uncanny ability to know when the other person was thinking about that day. So we’d touch each other, remind each other that we were here. Together. Living. It was a strange feeling, being grateful that a troubled kid was dead. Even stranger, I was grateful that he’d come into The Eloise. That he’d shot me instead of a school full of children in Missoula.

We hadn’t talked much about the shooting either. Another conversation shelved for later. But when we were ready, we’d need help. I wouldn’t let this fester. I wouldn’t let this trauma come between us.

The Edens waded through thick and thin together, didn’t they? I liked that.

It was the hundredth time he’d thanked me in the past two weeks. I suspected it wouldn’t be the last either. But for his daughter, for my wife, I’d take every bullet in the world.

But as I looked to Eloise, as I saw the kids, the growing family, I wouldn’t want anything else for her. For whatever family we might have one day.

When I woke up, minutes or hours later, darkness had settled beyond the windows. And asleep beside me in the narrow bed, my wife. Cuddling. I closed my eyes. And pulled her closer.

If she decided to return. There was a chance that Blaze had stolen her happiness from that building. He’d fired off three shots that day. Two had missed wide. The third had gone through my shoulder.

No one would ever know exactly what had transpired, but that day two weeks ago, Blaze had killed his mother. They’d found Lydia in her kitchen, shot in the back of the head. From there, it was assumed that Blaze had come to the hotel.

The house was insanity. Seven different conversations were happening at once. It had been like this the first time I’d come out here too, the noise shocking, but to everyone else, it just seemed . . . normal.

But day by day, it was getting easier. Therapy had helped. That, and Jasper hadn’t left my side.