After I Fall is the third book in the Falling series by Jessica Scott but each book stands alone. I fell in love with Ms. Scott’s writing when I read Until There Was You in 2014 and began reading her backlist as fast as I could; I’ve read every book (fiction) that she’s published.

The books in the Falling series have all featured The Pint in some way or another. The Pint is a bar owned by Eli Winter, a West Point graduate who served in Iraq and After I Fall is his story. The story is told in first person POV, alternating between Parker and Eli.

Parker Hauser needs an internship to qualify for an executive management program and the one she had lined up didn’t work out. Eli doesn’t know that one of his employees created a flyer advertising an internship at The Pint until Parker arrives to apply for it. Both of them are quite surprised when they realize that they met the night before in a less than satisfying encounter.

I’m having trouble finding the words to describe how I felt about this book. As with most books I’ve read by Jessica Scott, this was a very emotional read for me (in the best way). Her stories are about real people – well they’re about people who seem like they could be real to me.

Eli and Parker need each other but it takes them a while to figure out how to make that happen. Parker has issues with her father and fiancé that she needs to deal with and Eli is keeping something from her that could wreck their relationship.

The language in this book is fairly coarse but I think it is probably representative of how a lot of college and post college students, and former soldiers talk. I only mention it because sometimes people buy books and then leave negative reviews when they encounter coarse language.  If you are bothered by this then After I Fall might not be the book for you.

If you like realistic, emotional stories about members of the armed services after they’ve returned to civilian life then you shouldn’t wait to read the Falling series. Kudos to Ms. Scott for another wonderful story!

Reviews for Jessica Scott

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She is on her knees in front of me. It is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
There is trust in that simple gesture. I cup her chin, stroking my thumb over her bottom lip. I can’t look away. Her lips part, and I slide the tip in, just a little. Her mouth is soft and warm and wet. She closes around the edge of my thumb, sucking gently, so gently.
I ache in a way I haven’t ached in forever. This touch, this complete surrender to the feelings of erotic, sensual caress.
There is nothing about this that will end well. We are from two very different worlds. And no matter how much I pretend to walk in hers, I’m only visiting. Trying to get funding to keep my business open. Trying to make a difference.
Trying to pretend that the things I do still matter.
But this afternoon, when she walked away, I couldn’t let her go. I looked in her eyes and saw something there that called to me. That made me need to make her believe that she was touchable. That she was worth more than the people in her life had led her to believe.
And now she is on her knees in front of me. Waiting, unsure about what to do next. My brain may want her some other way, but my dick is perfectly happy to oblige her at the moment with just how she is.
I have lost control of this situation.
But then she reaches for my jeans, her palm sliding over my cock. She squeezes me, still sucking gently on my thumb. She traces the tip of her tongue over the edge as she pulls my belt open. Jesus, I’m a fucking goner.
The air is cool on my stomach as she pushes open my jeans. I can’t move even if I wanted to. I need to see this through. I need to do this right.
But I can’t fucking move. I can’t blink. I don’t want to forget a single moment of the erotic image of Parker on her knees in front of me.
She slides my erection out of my jeans, stroking me gently. Christ, I’m hard as fucking rock. It’s everything I can do not to guide her lips to me. To urge her to put that beautiful mouth around the tip of my cock.
I thought I didn’t want this? I fucking lied.
She drags her teeth over the edge of my thumb a moment before she releases me. I have nowhere to put my hands now.
I drop them by my sides. I am not in control here.
“Can I kiss you here?” she whispers, rubbing her thumb over the aching crown.
“Yes please.” The words are strangled. A plea. She has me under her complete control.
I am completely still as she moves closer. Rubs her lips over the tip. A soft, gentle caress. I’m ready to fucking beg.
And then she opens, tracing her tongue over the edge before sucking me gently, so gently into her mouth.
It’s heaven. Pure fucking heaven. Her touch is electric, like a thousand points of heat with every slide of her lips over my cock.
I close my eyes and fight the urge to move, to rock into her.
This…this is supposed to be for her but it’s not. Because I am a selfish bastard who is just like a thousand other guys who won’t turn down a beautiful woman on her knees.
I’m no saint.
But goddamn, Parker feels good. Touching me. Licking me. Sucking me. I am lost in her touch. Lost in the complete and total need to let her control this, let her take this wherever it will go.
She sucks me a little harder. A groan escapes me. My balls tighten, and I can’t fight the urge to rock into her. Just a little.
I reach for her then, urging her to let me go. To stand. And when she does, I pull her against me, harder than I probably should, and kiss her. I’m too far gone at the moment to do anything but kiss her. To drink from her. To take all of her inside me in that single gesture.
“I don’t want to come like this,” I whisper, nibbling on the edge of her meal.
“How then?”
“How do you want me?” A serious question. She needs to know that she’s controlling things here. She gets to say how far we go. If we even finish. “Because right now? I’d sell the fucking bar to get you to agree to let me do terrible, forbidden things to your body.”
“What are you waiting for?”
I smile and rock against her a little more. “Those five little words.”
And then she is on my sofa, her upper body braced on her palms. I capture her face in my palms and kiss her gently, lowering her until she is supported. Slowly, sipping on her lips. Savoring the taste of her. “Can I touch you here?” I slide my fingers down over the length of one of her arms. She makes a noise. “Say yes,” I whisper near her ear.
“Yes.”
“Can I touch you here?” I trace my fingertips over the edge of her ribs, just along the swell of her breast.
Her response is a huff against my lips. I smile. “Say yes.”
“Yes.”
I brush the back of my knuckles over the tight edge of one nipple. A shiver runs through her.
“Can I touch you here?” A slip of my fingers against her inner thigh.
She makes a sound. A whimper. Maybe a plea.
“I need you to say yes.” I manage to get the words out. Barely. They are somewhere between a whisper and growl. It takes everything I have to restrain myself but this…this isn’t for me. “Please say yes.”
I slip my finger a little closer, running it gently, barely there, over the seam of her body.
Waiting, intensely and painfully hard, for her response.

Falling Series

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