Damaged Heart (A San Diegan Novel Book 3) Read online

  “Would you look at that? Was that a compliment?” His plump mouth tugs into a cocky smirk that makes my lady parts trickle in anticipation. With a groan, I slam my hand down on the table in irritation.

  “Are you going to fuck me or not, Alex?”

  His lips slowly turn up into a sinister and sexy smile that has me clenching my legs to stave off the insatiable need I feel whenever I’m near him. I glare into his thickly lashed eyes and wait for him to open his stupid fucking mouth. Of its own accord, my gaze drifts to the sleek planes of his handsome face: tan skin, high cheekbones that rival my own, and a chiseled jaw that I’m dying to run my tongue along.

  Alex is fuck-hot. Always has been, but I swear, the guy is like wine. He only gets better with age.

  “What’s the magic word?” A delicious smirk pulls across his lips, making me itch to slap him.

  I roll my eyes. “Eat me.”

  “Oh, I’ll be doing that too,” he says with mirth.

  “Please” I grit my teeth. The word is so hard to get out I practically choke on it.

  “Always busting my balls, Sammy,” he taunts playfully.

  I narrow my eyes in warning. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

  “Easy, firecracker,” he whispers huskily in my ear.

  A tremble wracks my body just as he snatches my hand and drags me out of the bar. I follow after him with a knowing smile on my face.

  This should be fun.

  CHAPTER THREE

  My back is slammed up against the wall of Alex’s bedroom, and I moan in appreciation as his fingers rub lithe circles over my clit.

  “Just fuck me, Alex. I don’t need all this foreplay shit.”

  His fingers rub harder against me, making my eyes roll back into my skull. He bends low, near my ear, and whispers in that husky voice that I love, “My house, my rules, firecracker. I say when, and how, I’m going to fuck you. You know how this goes.”

  A helpless growl tears from my chest.

  Alex reaches his hand out, gently wrapping his fingers around my throat. His fingers tighten, applying just enough pressure for me to feel the effects of it between my legs. I’m completely fucking soaked. His honey-brown eyes bore into mine, forcing me to take quick breaths through my nose to calm my erratic breathing.

  Next thing I know, his skillful mouth is slammed over mine, teeth clashing, tongues tangling in a heated mess of desire. Alex trails his mouth down my neck, yanking down my dress to free my breasts. He burrows his face in my cleavage. Heat swirls, building in my core, as I grind my hips against his, trying to create friction.

  “Alex, please.”

  “Please, what?” He growls the words in between bouts of sucking my taut nipples into his mouth.

  “Goddamnit, Alex. You know what I need. Just give it to me, already!” I damn near yell in anger, digging my nails into the thick muscles of his shoulders.

  His hand tightly fists in my hair and he spins me around in one dizzying loop, bending me over the edge of his bed. I let out a small grunt at the force. My heart continues to pound wildly with excitement.

  Yes. This is what I need.

  Grabbing both of my wrists with one hand, Alex pins them down at the base of my back. With his free hand, he trails his thick fingers up my hot skin and pushes my dress up over my ass. His hands fist the thin material of my underwear, and he pulls, snapping the dainty lace away from my body. My heart thumps anxiously as he kicks my feet apart, spreading my legs wider for him. His firm length pushes inside me, completely bare—sorry, Natalia—and I let out a long moan as he stretches me. I rise onto my tiptoes trying to accommodate his length. I’m so full, it’s on the verge of pain, but not quite—the sting is delicious. His heavy hand cracks against my ass and a guttural moan falls from my lips.

  “Fuck.” He groans in approval. “I love how red your creamy skin gets when I mark you.”

  His erotic words are almost my undoing.

  When he starts thrusting inside me, I let out a gasp, and I swear, I think my eyes do roll into the back of my skull—I wouldn’t be surprised if they stayed there, either.

  “Is this what you wanted?” Alex whispers in my ear, his voice oozing sex.

  “More,” I pant out, meeting him thrust for thrust. He wraps his hand in my hair, and pulls, forcing my back to arch uncomfortably. In this position, he’s even deeper than he was before, if that were possible. His dick brushes against something inside me. Whatever it is, it has my vision going in and out—it’s fucking wonderful. With my back still arched to the point of pain, Alex wraps his free hand around my throat, squeezing tightly, and it fucking unravels me. I groan against the pressure being applied to my neck, and relish how each of his strokes lights a fire in my core.

  I’m close, so close. I just need a little more.

  Almost like he can read my mind, Alex drops his lips to my ear and licks the shell, before saying, “Need more, baby?”

  All I can manage is a nod as my eyes flutter closed.

  Releasing my hair from his grip, he manages to burrow his hand into my dress, grasping my breast in his warm hand. He tweaks my nipples roughly, tugging and pinching, until I’m moaning his name loudly. The sounds bounce of the walls of the room.

  On the cusp of coming, I fist my hands into his sheets and rest my cheek on the comforter as he continues to pound into me. Placing his fingers in front of my face, Alex gives me a rough order.

  “Suck them.”

  I don’t wait to be asked twice. I swirl my tongue around his fingers. Saliva pools in my mouth as I enjoy the sensation of his heavy fingers of my tongue. Without warning, Alex pulls his hand away and before I know it, I feel his warm, wet fingers at my backside. My breath catches and my heart crescendos.

  Oh, god. Oh, god.

  The tip of his middle finger slides enticingly over the pucker of my anus. The sensations running through my body are electrifying: his cock thrusting inside me, the pad of his thumb roughly circling my clit and his middle finger adding gentle pressure at my backside. It is all too much. I can’t handle it.

  Shoving my face in the comforter, I let out a moan so loud I know Alex’s neighbors are privy to tonight’s activity. With his fingertip massaging me, a dark yearning for more blooms recklessly through my body. Alex is a master at manipulating my body. He could make me forget everything tainted from my past. He makes it so easy to focus on just him, and what his touch can do to my body.

  The pressure of his fingertip becomes more insistent until the ring of muscles flexes and his thick, long finger slides easily inside. Helpless noises spill from my throat at the delicious sting. There’s beauty in pain, and fuck if I don’t enjoy the pain Alex inflicts on my body.

  As if sensing my body’s need for climax, Alex’s fingers quicken over my clit. With his cock thrusting inside me and his finger pumping rhythmically into my rear, I am on sensory overload. I fist my hands painfully into the sheets as my orgasm buds to life, pounding through me, pooling deeply in my core.

  He sends me over the edge with his grand finale—just like he always does. With a hard slap to my ass, Alex calls me every filthy name you can think of. He tells me all the things most woman would hate to hear in bed, but not me. I fucking love it. My pussy clenches around his cock, gripping his girth for dear life. Within seconds, I’m gasping, crying out, and coming all over his cock.

  Alex comes so hard, I can feel it. Every throb of his cock. I feel his shaft tighten, and swell, his release coating my walls. He slowly pulls out, and tosses himself on the bed beside me, so as to not crush me.

  Always so thoughtful.

  I roll onto my back beside him, and rest my head on his heaving chest.

  “Fuck, woman. It’s like sex with you gets better and better every time.”

  I sputter a laugh into his chest because I know exactly what he means. I may have slept with loads of men, but Alex is by far the best I’ve ever had. I think that’s why we always come back to each other. For sex. Or at least that’s what I kee
p telling myself.

  There’s trust there, a connection that I can’t explain. I try not to dwell on how well our bodies work together in the bedroom because this is Alex, and nothing good can ever come from me and this wonderfully beautiful man—except sex.

  I close my eyes, and let myself be soothed by the rhythmic beat of his heart. We rest in silence. The only sounds are our heavy breathing and the cadence of Alex’s thumping heart.

  “Do you remember when we first met?” he asks in a gravelly voice, and I can’t help but smile.

  How could I ever forget?

  “Hey! Pickle-dick, watch where you’re going!” I shout angrily as I push through the exit of CJ’s Bar and Grille. I’m just leaving the interview I had with the owner of the place. He was cute for a man in his late forties, so being me, I tried to put the moves on him to ensure I got the job.

  Didn’t fucking work.

  Hence, me storming out of the place and crashing into the group of half-dressed guys covered in sand. The group of assholes makes no move to apologize or step out of my way, which only fuels my anger. I look them up and down and scoff, coming to a simple conclusion with my once-over. Over-privileged assholes who just came from drinking at the beach. Cue internal eye roll.

  One of them, the guy with the shaggy blond hair, finally takes notice of me, stares me up and down before nudging his friend next to him in the arm.

  “Think she’s talking to you, Alex,” Golden Torso says with a snicker. I’ve deemed him Golden Torso because the guy has a fucking golden torso. Actually, it seems like all the guys in the group have nice bodies. It’s like they just walked off an Abercrombie photoshoot. It’s distracting.

  Alex, the guy with the brown buzz-cut hair and honey brown eyes stares at me for a beat, before a slow smile spreads across his face.

  “Baby, if you saw my dick you wouldn’t be calling me pickle-dick. I wouldn’t mind showing a pretty girl like you the time of her life.”

  A few of his friends chuckle, and I roll my eyes. I’m used to shit like this. Entitled assholes who think they’re better than God.

  Giving Honey Eyes my best smarmy smile, I step up close to him, chest to stomach, and run a sensual hand over his firm pectoral muscles.

  “The time of my life, huh?” I purr, oozing sex. His eyes dilate, and he licks his lips, staring down at me. I give an internal devious smile.

  Gotcha.

  When Honey Eyes least expects it, I pinch his nipple between my fingers and twist as far as I can, making him howl in pain.

  “Keep your pickle-dick in your pants, and move the fuck out of my way, asshole. I wouldn’t fuck you even if you were the last man on earth.” I spit the words.

  That’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that I find him extremely attractive.

  “God,” he groans half in pain and half in awe, “where the fuck have you been all my life?”

  My lip twitches into a smile, and I squeeze just a bit harder, “Keep dreamin’, fuckface. Now tell your posse to move.”

  “What’s your name?”

  I roll my eyes. “Candy.”

  “Your real name.”

  “Samantha. Now move.”

  When Alex and his friends move, I release my hold on him, and shove past him.

  I’m now on an even tighter schedule than I was before. At the time, leaving Boston seemed like the best decision on earth, but now that I’m here in San Diego, with no family, struggling to find a job—I’m starting to think it was really fucking stupid. Mentally scratching another possible workplace off my list, I go over all the other options for work in my head, when suddenly I hear pounding feet behind me. I turn on my heel with furrowed brows and watch as Alex trails after me to catch up.

  You’ve got to be kidding.

  “How old are you?” he asks breathily.

  “Sixteen,” I say in a bored tone.

  “Fuck.” He hisses under his breath. “When will you be eighteen?”

  I almost roll my eyes and tell the stupid fuck in two years. Even a third grader can do that math.

  “When pigs fucking fly. What’s it to you?”

  “Go out with me.”

  “No.”

  “Go out with me,” he says again with determination, and I grind my teeth in irritation.

  “Why? I’m obviously younger than you, and I’ve made it pretty clear I don’t fucking like you.”

  “For starters, I’m only two years older than you, depending on when your birthday is. Second, you’ve said more cuss words than I use in a week, making you different from any other girl I’ve ever met. And lastly, that fucking accent has been making my cock rock-hard since the first time you opened that spitfire mouth.”

  “I don’t have an accent,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “You do, babe. I’m pretty sure if you asked where your car keys are, it would sound a lot like ‘where ma khakis.’”

  I nod my head in silent agreement. I guess growing up in the most ghetto part of Boston will do that to you.

  As he waits for me to say yes or no, I take the time to check him out, like really check him out. He’s tall with tan skin, and nearly perfect features that almost make him look too pretty. If it wasn’t for the small scar running into his eyebrow, separating the hairs, he would certainly be perfect. His eyes are lighter than any brown I’ve ever seen. They look like pools of honey. Or expensive whiskey. Rubbing my lips together, I get an idea, and smile.

  “Fine. I’ll go out with you, under one condition.”

  His lip twitches, and he raises a brow, waiting for me to go on.

  “You have to find me a job.”

  “Done. CJ’s dad is the owner of the Bar and Grille. I might be able to pull some strings for you.”

  I scoff. “Good luck with that. I might have already burned that bridge.”

  He gives me a full-on smile now. “Never underestimate me, Samantha.”

  After exchanging numbers, I turn to him with a saccharine grin, ready to rock his whole world.

  “You know, if all you wanted to do was sleep with me, all you had to do was ask.”

  If possible, his grin spreads wider. “Well, fuck me. A girl after my own heart.”

  “See you around, fuck-face.”

  “You can count on it,” he says, grinning widely with purpose.

  The coincidental run-in between that lost girl and an overconfident asshole turned into something I never bargained for. Here we are nine years later, still running around in the same useless circles. Only now, there’s nine years of feelings that have intensified—they continue to grow every day, and I can’t do anything to stop it. It always comes back to one person. Alex.

  Snapping out of those old memories, I shift away from him, needing to put some distance between us so I can think straight. I hate taking trips down memory lane. My past was never a place I wanted to revisit. Too many fucked-up memories. But Alex didn’t understand that. He never would. Memory lane was his favorite place to be.

  “Remember the first time I fucked you in your beat-up car outside San Diego High?”

  I force a chuckle. “Yeah, I do. I specifically remember those jealous cunt-fuck cheerleaders saw us and I made it my life’s mission to shove it in their face every day. They didn’t want to believe a slutty, trashy Bostonian like me could seal the deal with the infamous Alexander Clark.” His lips thin at the use of his full name, and I laugh. “You were such a pervert for that, by the way. Fucking an underage girl in her car in a high school parking lot? Ballsy.”

  “I’ll show you ballsy. And would you cut me some fucking slack? We were only two years apart, and it was my senior year. You were the hottest piece of ass I had ever seen in my life.”

  “Still am.” I wink up at him. He grabs a handful of my ass, playfully smacking me.

  “You were more than a hot piece of ass, Samantha Faye. You still are.”

  My entire body tenses and I curl my lip in disdain. Why the fuck did he have to go and ruin it? Why
couldn’t he just leave it be? This was the problem with Alex: he always turned our time together into something it wasn’t. He wanted more, and I didn’t. Whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears would just cause problems I’m not interested in having.

  “I should really get going,” I say dumbly, sliding off the bed, away from the comfortable heat of his body.

  “Sam…” He lets his words trail off, apparently knowing by the sound of my voice that something is wrong.

  He always was one to pay attention to detail.

  Ignoring him and his plea to stay, I hurriedly gather my clothes to get dressed.

  “You don’t always have to rush out of here like a bat out of hell, firecracker.”

  “I do, actually.”

  Blowing out a sigh, he rests back against his headboard, his impressive abdomen gleaming.

  “Fine.”

  I roll my eyes. “Stop being dramatic.”

  I don’t wait for his response. Instead, I get the hell out of there, away from the one guy who has the capacity to break me. And after the childhood I had, that’s not an easy feat.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I drive home in an unusually sour mood. After great sex, I’m normally chill, mellow even, but not right now. I’m fucking pissed off at Alex for bringing up our past. I’m even more pissed at myself for being affected by our past at all. I hate it all.

  Memories from years ago assault me in rapid succession. They all play like a movie reel with no stop button.

  Ignoring the lingering pain in my back, I bend over yet another table, wiping off excess food and drink particles from the last patrons who sat here. I’ve been working my ass off non-stop ever since I got the job here at the Bar and Grille. I guess Alex really was telling the truth when he said he could help land me a job here. I just didn’t know that would entail cleaning bathrooms and throwing out trash all fucking day. It wasn’t until last week that I was able to move up from garbage and bathrooms to cleaning up fucking tables.

  “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”