Damaged Heart (A San Diegan Novel Book 3)

by S. M. Soto

  He strokes his thick, veiny cock before he slowly eases inside of me, completely taking my breath away. With each inch, my pussy squeezes and stretches around his firm length. His hands, firmly gripped on my hips, tighten as he drives deep within me. The sound of his balls slaps against my ass and I can’t contain the guttural moan that escapes. Peeling my lids open, I stare up at him as he hovers over me, pleasure etched into his features. I was seeing him on top of me, but for some disastrous reason my mind drifted to Masie. I imaged Alex hovering over her just like this, and the thought tears my heart straight out of my chest.

  As I look up at Alex as he pounds into me, chasing after his release, my heart clenches at what I am about to do.

  “Do you love her?”

  His movements freeze, and his face visibly hardens. With furrowed brows, his honey eyes drift to mine, looking wild with his need to come. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Masie.” I swallow the golf-ball sized lump in my throat. “Do you love her?”

  His lips thin into a grim line, and just like that, he slides out of me, anger contorting his features.

  “You really want to get into this right now? What the fuck are you thinking, asking that with my cock shoved all the way inside of you?”

  Ignoring his tone, I steel myself for his response. “Answer me,” I press sternly.

  “Damnit, Samantha.” He growls.

  “Answer me, Alex!” I yell suddenly, shocking us both. His eyes narrow.

  “I’ve only ever loved one girl, and she’s too fucking stubborn to love me back,” he spits out angrily as he slides roughly past me and throws on his clothes. My heart hammers in my chest at his words. I grapple onto them, trying to hold on for dear life, but slowly they slip out of my grip. Out of my reach.

  “Goddamnit, Samantha!” Alex shouts, slamming his fist against the wall in his fit of rage.

  I flinch at the sound of flesh hitting drywall, and try to ignore the gaping hole. “I-I’m sorry. I’ll go,” I mumble, sliding out of bed. Alex whips his furious gaze to me. His eyes narrow menacingly before a cold smirk tilts his lips.

  “Why? Your boyfriend wondering where you are?”

  My tongue feels heavy as it sticks to the roof of my mouth, making it impossible to correct him. My gaze trains on the ceiling, anything to avoid looking him in the eye.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I force myself to look his way and immediately wish I hadn’t. His stare is cold. He’s wearing a tight expression, but the hurt is clear as ever in his eyes.

  “Does he know that I still fuck you? Huh?” He takes a step toward me. “Do you get off on men treating you like trash, Samantha? Because that’s all you are to him. Fucking trash.”

  His words are like stabs to the heart. Each word is a ragged blade that rips through my already tarnished organ. Fighting past the tears that threaten to fall, I curl my fists and blow out sharp bursts of air through my nose.

  “I’m leaving.”

  I stiffly pull on my clothes, ignoring the weight of his stare and the pain tearing through my chest.

  “Of course you are. That’s the only fucking thing you’re good at, Samantha.”

  “Alex, please,” I plead, close to tears.

  “Tell me you’re not still going to see him. Tell me the truth, Samantha!”

  I shake my head, my eyes swimming with unshed tears. “I can’t.” My voice chokes with emotion and his face crumples at my words.

  I hate that I’m hurting him, but this is for the best. For the both of us. Maybe I am better off sleeping with someone like James, who doesn’t care about me. There are no feelings involved, ensuring no one will get hurt. I need to protect my heart at all costs. With Alex, my heart is bared and wide open for whatever blow is sure to come my way. We’re a science experiment gone bad. There’s no guessing the outcome when we’re together. It’s toxic. It’s passionate. It’s messy.

  “Tell James I said hi. Let him know I got you all warmed up for him.”

  With that, he shoulders past me toward the bathroom, where he slams the door. His bedroom echoes with a silence that threatens to cave in on me.

  I stumble out of Alex’s house, feeling like my chest was just flayed open. Everything hurts. The pressure in my nose builds as I rest my head on the steering wheel of my car, and I cry. I haven’t cried this hard in years, but after tonight, I let it all out. My chest wracks with sobs that jolt my shoulders as I struggle to pull in my next breath. My lungs burn for fresh air and my body hurts. The pain is crippling and all-consuming.

  After drying my tears, I pull out my phone, rechecking James’ messages and pull my car onto the highway, ready to meet him at the Fairmont. It strikes me as odd that we were meeting at the Fairmont instead of his condo, but that is the least of my worries at the moment. I just want to get this over with, so I can forget. Forget about the broken organ thumping dully in my chest. The pained look on Alex’s face keeps haunting me, flashing behind my eyes, threatening never to stop.

  As I push through the hotel room door, I stop short, my feet freezing in place. Instead of seeing James, I run into someone else entirely. I dart my gaze down to the card again, making sure I’m in the right room, but the impeccably dressed woman sitting in the sofa chair with a scowl etched on her face tells me I’m more than likely in the right place.

  Swallowing the lump in my throat, I let the door fall shut behind me and stand there in a stare-off with the unknown woman. She has brown hair pulled into a tight chignon and a frilly white blouse paired with cream slacks. The set of her shoulders and the scent of Chanel No. 5 tell me she’s a debutante-type, rolling in cash. No different than Victoriana.

  I had a sick feeling this day would come. It is inevitable when you’re sleeping with a married man. I just didn’t expect it to be tonight.

  “So, while I’m home caring for our kids, this is what my husband is doing?” James’ wife says, with a little too much snark in her tone. “James always did have a thing for the trashy girls.” Disdain drips from her voice and my body cords with tension.

  I narrow my eyes menacingly, ready to rip this woman to shreds for talking about me when she doesn’t know anything about me or my life.

  “Excuse me?”

  She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth in a tsk, with a slight shake of her head. “Trashy and dumb. What an award-winning combination.”

  Her words are like a shot to the heart. My chest squeezes in a vise, knocking the air out of me. I curl my hands into fists and take a threatening step toward her. She doesn’t even flinch from where she’s perched on the sofa. Her leg is still crossed pristinely over the other, with her hands laid flat over her knee. The monster of a diamond ring catches my attention immediately.

  At least James didn’t hold any expense on the ring, I can’t help but think to myself.

  “You’re disgusting,” she says, gazing at me through narrowed slits.

  This time, my hands do curl into fists, ready to knock this clueless woman on her debutante ass.

  “Screw you,” I hiss.

  “Yeah, I’m sure you would. Is he at least paying you for your services?”

  Giving her a smarmy smile, I lick my lips for show. “Oh no, sweetie. We fuck each other because we can’t get enough. No need to pay.”

  “Stay the fuck away from my husband, you filthy whore. We have children, and a family to care for. I know it may not mean much to you, but it does to me.”

  “Your husband is the one who came to me. You agreed to the arrangement of allowing your husband to fuck other women, not me.”

  She grimaces coldly. “Is that what he’s still telling you all? That I allow this? Open your eyes and take a good look in the mirror. You’re the problem with society today.”

  Her words sting. Her mouth tilts in satisfaction when she sees my expression fall.

  “Did you really think I would agree to this absurd arrangement? Allowing my husband to stick his dick in trash, then come back home to me?” She s
coffs with a sneer. “James is a shark. He can make anyone do what he wants, just like he’s made you number five in his circle of whores he fucks at that godforsaken condo.”

  My breath catches.

  Five?

  My stomach roils at the thought of him bagging me and so many other women in that fucking condo.

  Gathering my remaining dignity, I walk away with a swift flip of the bird and hightail it back to my car. As I climb in to the Jeep, the first thing I do is dial James. The line rings and rings and I’m almost certain he’s going to let it go to voicemail until he picks up.

  “Samantha.”

  “My place. Twenty minutes,” I say before I end the call, completely fuming. I smile to myself thinking of all the ways I’m going to tear this lying bastard a new asshole. He played me. He fucking used me. And he lied to me.

  This whole situation is my fault, I know that, but I can’t help but feel manipulated. He made it seem like this was okay, like his wife was okay with everything. He made me believe what we were doing wasn’t so wrong. How could I be so stupid? So foolish? Was I so blinded by using James to get over Alex, I couldn’t see through his lies?

  I’m still catching my breath from climbing the apartment stairs when I see James at the door, wearing a look of irritation. My eyes narrow and I quicken my strides. I make fists, and my nails dig painfully into the flesh of my palm.

  “Glad you could make it. We need to talk.”

  Brushing past him, I unlock the front door, throwing it open with a growl. Once inside, I whirl around, ready to shove my fist in his face when I’m suddenly slammed against the wall, with James’ hand wrapped tightly around my throat. My hands fumble against his punishing hold and my nails dig helplessly into his skin as I try to pull air into my burning lungs. My eyes bulge and I choke violently around his tightening grip.

  “Where the fuck do you get off?” he seethes, his eyes glowing with anger.

  Raising my knee, I make contact with his thigh, causing him to jerk back in pain. His grip loosens on my throat and I suck in a lungful of air as I shove him away from me.

  “You knew the fucking rules!” he growls, his shoulders trembling with rage.

  I narrow my eyes and take a threatening step forward.

  “Your ‘rules’ are fucking bullshit. Your wife made that very clear this evening, James.”

  James laughs without humor. “The fact that you can’t read between the fucking lines isn’t my problem, Samantha. But you know what is? You speaking to my wife.” He points a threatening finger in my direction.

  That gets my back up. I narrow my eyes into thin slits and my insides coil with anger. “So what, I was just supposed to see through your fucking lies? That’s what you consider reading through the fucking lines? She came to me, fuckface.” I jab a finger at myself, thinning my lips in anger. “I thought it was you I was texting, so don’t you dare blame me for this shitstorm you created.”

  He stops his movements at the tone of my voice and looks up at me. Closing the distance between us, he levels his eyes with mine and gently cups my face in his hands. His eyes scream of violence, but his touch is such a contradiction, it causes gooseflesh to pebble on my skin.

  “You really are a stupid girl, Samantha.”

  His words are like a slap in the face. I suck in a gasp of air.

  “I did what I had to do to get my way. Who in their right mind would believe it, anyway? Women like you, that’s who. The ones with Mommy and Daddy issues. The ones that are so fucked up, they can’t see anything beyond themselves.”

  I slap his hand off my face, glaring at him with all the rage boiling in my veins. “Go fuck yourself.”

  He shrugs and smiles. “Fine by me.”

  James cocks his head at my frustrated expression and a cold laugh spills past his lips. “You’re nothing to me, Samantha. Just a way to pass the time. If you weren’t such a good fuck, I wouldn’t have put up with you and all your fucked-up problems for as long as I did.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I ask incredulously, shoving my hands roughly against his chest. His eyes cloud with darkness and before I know what’s happening, his fist is wound in my hair and I’m yelping in pain. The roots tear violently out of my head at his unyielding grip and tears sting my eyes. I swing my arms and kick my legs, trying to connect with any part of his body.

  “Stop moving, bitch,” he growls.

  I swing my arm back, latching onto his scruffy cheek and I dig my nails in until there’s no give left.

  “Fuck!” James releases my hair, giving me only seconds to right myself before his heavy hand comes sailing in the air toward my face. My cheekbone explodes in pain as I crash to the ground, my shoulder colliding with the hardwood floor.

  My eyes water from the pain, but I push past it, forcing myself to face the bastard. I’ve never once been hit or manhandled by a man before, not outside of the bedroom, at least. My body is in such a state of shock, I can’t stop trembling.

  Casually, James steps closer and my eyes hone in on the blood trickling from his cheek. Methodologically, he wipes the blood off using the sleeve of his crisp, white button-up, and drops to his haunches before me. Slowly, he reaches his arm out and I flinch away from his looming form, eyeing him warily. He pats the top of my head lightly, like I’m a fucking dog.

  “This is over. Samantha. Don’t contact me ever again.”

  He rises to his feet and swings on his suit jacket. He stops just before passing the threshold and turns back to look at me in all my pathetic glory, still sprawled out across the floor.

  “Oh, and stay away from my family.”

  The bang of the front door slamming shut echoes throughout the empty apartment.

  I don’t know how long I stay rooted to the floor like a helpless victim, but when I hear the jiggle of the key and the turning of the front door, my body tenses, preparing for a threat. This time, if James tries to strike me, I won’t go down so easily.

  “Sam?” Natalia turns the corner and her big, brown eyes widen when she gets a look at me on the floor. “Sammy!” she shouts, running to me and dropping to her knees before me. “What the hell happened, Samantha?” she asks with wide, fearful eyes as she takes in my disheveled appearance. Suddenly, her face pales, and her eyes widen. “Your cheek is swollen and bleeding. Who the hell did this?”

  I muster up all my strength and push to my feet, ignoring the after-effects of the adrenaline leaving my body. The sudden movement is jarring, making the pain in my face throb with a vengeance. A groan slips past my lips. I gently place my fingers over the throbbing and when I pull my hand back, sure enough, there’s a smear of red.

  Motherfucker.

  I heave a sigh. “I’m fine, Nat. Just had a fight with James.”

  Her eyes widen, and her brows disappear into her hairline. “You’re fine? You are not fine, Samantha. He made you bleed! He put his hands on you! How the hell can you be okay with this?”

  “I’m not!” I jerk my thumb toward the swelling of my face. “I’m not okay with any of it, but I can’t go back in time and change it, can I, Natalia? I’m fucking dealing with it.”

  “You’ve been sitting on the goddamn floor for who knows how long, and that’s what you call dealing with it?” she scoffs, her face reddening with anger. “I’m calling the police on that rat bastard.”

  “Jesus Christ, Natalia, don’t call the fucking police.”

  She ignores me by storming out of the room. With a growl, I follow after her into the kitchen where she’s pacing, with her phone held to her ear.

  “Put the fucking phone down, Natalia.”

  She narrows her eyes and purses her lips. I know she decided not to call the police when she says, “Something happened with Samantha. Be here in ten minutes.”

  “Who was that?” I ask, but I already know the answer.

  “Alex.”

  Sure enough, not even ten minutes later Alex bursts through the door. When he gets a good look at me, his face
hardens, and his body turns to a rock-solid stone. The muscle in his jaw tics from how hard he’s clenching his teeth together, and the vein in his forehead throbs angrily.

  “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  “I second that,” Natalia pipes in, with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “No one is killing anyone,” I say, my voice tinged with fatigue. Alex’s eyes narrow and his lips thin into a grim, menacing line.

  “Why the fuck are you protecting him, Samantha? After he put his hands on you?”

  “I’m not protecting him!” I growl in frustration. “I’m protecting myself! He’s a fucking big-time lawyer with connections, who can probably get away with murder! I don’t stand a chance against him. It’s useless.”

  I see the moment understanding dawns on both of them. Their expressions fall, and helplessness hangs heavy in the room.

  “I’m not a victim. I got him in the face pretty good, so we’re even.”

  Alex scrubs a hand roughly over his head and turns toward Natalia. “Can you give us a minute?”

  With an aggravated sigh, Natalia pads down the hall and retreats to her room.

  “We can fight this. I’ll get you lawyer,” he says with so much conviction in his tone, my eyes sting.

  If Alex tries to get me a good lawyer, that means he’ll need to enlist the help of his parents and there is no way in hell I’m coming to Victoriana for help—not that she would agree, anyway.

  “I don’t want a lawyer, Alex. I don’t want revenge on the bastard, I just want to forget. Is that so much to ask? This whole fucked-up situation is my fault. It’s only right I deal with all the repercussions, not you guys.”

  Alex opens his mouth, on the verge of arguing again, but I cut him off.

  “No. No using your rich family connections. No cleaning up my fucking messes. I don’t want any help. I don’t want sympathy. I want to be alone.” My gaze drills into his as I will him to understand—to give in. Alex heaves a sigh and turns on his heel. He grasps the doorknob in his hand and turns to me with a look that harbors so much anger, I shift my gaze elsewhere.

  “If I ever see him again, I’m killing him. That’s a promise.”