Some books are lighthearted and fun. While some leave a lasting impression on you for a long time after you've finished. Damaged Heart by SM Soto is like that. Her heroine is flawed, as many of us are. She doesn't believe she deserves her happily ever after and in turn sabotages her chances.
Happy ever after’s don’t exist for girls like me.
For the past nine years, Samantha Paisley has been playing a tiresome game of back and forth with her longtime friend with benefits, Alex Clark. Growing up in a toxic environment, Samantha never learned how to love or how to be loved.
So, when Alex tries to get closer to the fiery, foul-mouthed red-head, she cuts herself off from the only man she loves—not wanting to destroy the one stable relationship in her otherwise turbulent, troublesome life. But Alex will stop at nothing to have his woman by his side and in his bed, even if it’s the last thing he does.
“What the hell are you smiling about?”
“You.” He leans back in his chair, and I watch in pure, feminine appreciation as his shirt pulls tightly across the firm muscles of his chest. His black T-shirt hugs his bicep muscles perfectly and I get a glimpse of his delicious tribal tattoo hidden beneath the cotton material of his sleeve. “Your little show was quite amusing. Do I sense a bit of jealousy?”
I scoff and roll my eyes at him. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just need to get laid, and we all know you’re the only one who can ever satisfy my needs.”
“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.
“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.
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Musings from Michigan