Heartbreak on a Stick by Sabrina York
When A-List movie star Jason Sherwood returns to the
hometown that once rejected him, he has one goal in mind: Getting revenge on
the woman who broke his heart so many years ago. But when he discovers his
assumptions about her were wrong, he only wants to win her back. Hopefully,
it’s not too late.
Gina Fox has always pined for her high school lover…and now
he has returned, turning her world upside down. But life isn’t as simple now as
it was then. And she can’t get over the fact that Jason walked away from her
without a word. When he launches a sultry seduction, she tries, with everything
in her, to resist…because at his core, Jason is nothing but heartbreak on a
stick.
Read an excerpt:
“Gina.”
Hell. Even now, she heard his voice, dancing on the breeze.
“Gina.”
Louder now. More substantive.
Her heart lurched. Her head swung around. She stared.
Oh shit.
This was not a fantasy or her imagination or even a wish. He
was here.
She scrambled to her feet and brushed off her butt, forcing
her knees to lock, even though they wobbled. “Jace— Um, Jason.”
He was tall. Much taller than he’d been. And broad. His
shoulders were breathtaking. And his muscles—muscles the boy had not had, honed
through years of working out for parts, no doubt—filled his tight black
T-shirt.
She ripped her gaze away from the tantalizing bulges to the
lines of his face. Gawd. Tantalizing there too. His lips—which she remembered,
tasted still—full and lush. His dark eyes were fringed with sinful lashes. The
scar on his right eyebrow, the dimples, the curve of his cheek.
It was difficult to breathe.
“I-I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He smiled and something in her gut quivered. “I didn’t
expect to see you.” He took a step closer. And another. “You… look good.” His
throat worked.
“You, ah, you too.” Good was not the word.
She’d drooled over the TV screen Sunday nights when Blood
Curse came on—the few times she’d dared to watch. Jason as a tormented vampire
was irresistible. But his screen persona was nothing to his presence here now.
He was like a beautiful spider’s web, luring her closer for one more glance
when she knew, if she came too close, she would be trapped, consumed.
Her instincts told her to run.
She resolved not to. She resolved to face him. And be…civil.
To that end, she smiled. It was a light, flippant smile. It
cost her. “Aren’t you supposed to be having a parade or something?”
A shadow passed over his features, as though he didn’t care
for her blasé air. “Or something.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“You really shouldn’t miss it.”
“Shouldn’t I?” He got that tone, the one he used to get when
he was feeling rebellious and truculent. He’d never used it on her before.
“Eden will be devastated.”
“Oh, well, God forbid I disappoint Eden Ames.” He strolled
around her, taking her in, though she turned with him because it seemed the
prudent thing to do. One did not turn one’s back on a petulant panther.
“She dislikes being disappointed.”
This seemed to annoy him. The muscle in his cheek tightened and
bunched. He leaned in and hissed, “Fuck Eden Ames. Fuck all of them.”
She didn’t know why she lurched back. His vehemence,
perhaps, the heat of his breath, or the vitriol. But she lurched back and kept
going, as he followed, until she backed into a tree.
He loomed over her, far too close. And Lord, yes. He was
much taller. He smelled the same though, like musk and man and Jason. She’d
missed his scent. She’d missed it so much she was tempted to close her eyes and
just breathe it in, fill her lungs with him until she could hold no more.
But she couldn’t close her eyes. Her gaze was riveted to
his.
Tension crackled and spit between them.
When he edged closer, she set a hand on his chest. To hold
him back. Probably. His heart thudded beneath her palm.
He was harder than he used to be. Oh, physically, certainly,
but in other ways as well. There was a coldness in his eyes she’d never seen
before.
It frightened her. And thrilled her.
She flinched when he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek. His
touch was warm, gentle. He didn’t say anything, just stared at her, which was
unnerving. But when he spoke, his words were more unnerving still, though
whispered as they were. “Dear God, Gina, how are you even prettier?”
“I—”
He didn’t let her answer. His mouth closed over hers in a
heated rush. A dizzying hunger snarled through her as she tasted him on her
tongue. Yes, her soul cried, yes! Yes!
He moved closer, pressing her against the tree, sealing
their bodies and their mouths and ravishing her with an unleashed passion.
She’d forgotten. Well, maybe not forgotten, but certainly
released her hold on the memory. It was far too painful to live without him. To
wake up every day knowing her life was devoid of the brilliance he brought.
Now it all came rushing back in a scorching tide, swamping
her, spinning her about and sweeping her quickly toward the oblivion of the
fall.
His kiss was a tumult. It was passion and need and wild
frenzy. It was lips and teeth and tongues. It was murmured whispers and muffled
moans.
He shoved his fingers through her hair to hold her still,
then tipped her head and ate his way down to her neck, to nuzzle her there as
he once had done. To make her wild and mad. To make her succumb when she really
knew better.
She knew better now. She knew where this could lead, what
catastrophe they taunted.
And the true tragedy?
She didn’t care.
She didn’t care that this could ruin her, devastate her,
burn her up from the inside out.
She didn’t care.
Kiss me. Take me. Destroy me.
Get It Now
Create Space: https://www.createspace.com/5034784
About Sabrina York
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and
USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy
readers. Her titles range from
sweet & sexy to scorching romance.
Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com
to check out her books, excerpts and contests.
Bookshelf! http://sabrinayork.com/books/
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