Black Tangled Heart Excerpt

Want to read more from Samantha Young?

What better way than to dive into one of her standalone contemporary romances!

BLACK TANGLED HEART

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Black Tangled Heart is a complete standalone. The Play On series are books connected by the theme of the arts industry, not by characters, and can be read in any order.

To my siblings, Jane was a friend. A pseudo-sister, the girl we grew up with.

To me? She was everything.

Our passion consumed us.

When our world fell apart, I thought our love would be the thing that held us together.

She was the love of my life. But she abandoned me when I needed her most.

And I’ll never forgive her.

For years I’ve been planning my revenge against the people who took everything from me.

Jane won’t be an exception. I’m coming for her.

She knows it.

She says she wants to help me serve my version of justice on the people who hurt me.

I’ll let her.

She probably thinks it will save her from me.

It won’t.

BLACK TANGLED HEART - AN EXCERPT

Determined not to let him see how much he affected me, I glared up at him. He’d only have to touch me, hold my hand, to realize I was trembling. His face was so familiar. His lips were lips I’d thought I’d kiss for the rest of my life. Why did the pain of it never dull? Why did it still feel like a shard of glass through my chest? “Did you leak those tapes of Foster Steadman to Asher’s mom?”

Something menacing flashed in his eyes before he banked it. “And if I did?”

“Are you being smart, Jamie?”

“Are you asking out of concern for me or for your billionaire boy toy?”

“Jamie.”

“Never mind. I don’t care.” The bastard dipped his nose to my throat, and I tensed against the stacked machines. He inhaled, his nose brushing my skin, and my fingers bit into the washer behind me. “You smell different,” he whispered, lifting his head to my ear. “Expensive perfume. You’ve come up in the world.”

I felt his breath caress my skin seconds before his teeth touched my earlobe. Gasping, I instinctively pushed my palms against his stomach as he bit down hard, causing a flush of heat between my legs.

With a dark chuckle, Jamie released my ear after one last nibble and whispered, “Is he the jealous type, Jane? Would it bother him to see you with me, knowing I’m the first man who ever slid his dick into you?”

My body reacted to his words in opposition to my mind. While my skin flushed and heat pooled low in my belly, I despised him for throwing me away and then losing all faith in me. For talking to me like this. And that war between my physical desire and my emotions made me hate him even more. I wanted to tear him up.

“Does he know how you like it?” His voice was thick now, hoarse, and he leaned the length of his strong body into mine, pushing me into the machines at my back. I could feel him. Throbbing. Hard. My breath skittered and my fingers curled into the cotton fabric of his T-shirt. “Does he know sweet, shy, Jane Doe loves a good, hard fucking as much as gentle lovemaking? That when the mood takes you, you like to be tied up, held down …” Jamie trailed his lips across my flushed cheek and brushed them against my mouth. “And fucked until you scream?”

Memories assailed me. Memories of our youthful adventures in sex. How together, we were open to anything. How exciting it had been to explore that side of ourselves with someone who made us feel safe and loved.

“Does he know you like to be fucked in public places?”

I shivered, remembering the hottest sex we ever had in a restroom at the theater.

“Does he hold you all night long, just the way you like?” Jamie trailed his fingertips along my collarbone, gentle, caressing. Almost loving. “Does he keep his dick buried inside you while you sleep like I did? How many nights did you want that from me? How you needed me to stay inside you, connected.”

Tears burned in my throat.

I’d been desperate for him. Wanted him to never leave me. To hold me always.

No one had held me in such a long time. Not like that.

Not since him.

I glared at his throat, half of me wanting to lick it and the other to rip it out with my teeth.

“Nothing to say?” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of my neck, one hand sliding down the curve of my waist to rest on my hip. He squeezed it. “Huh?”

Did it hurt him to be near me like it hurt me to be near him?

Was this causing him pain, or did he only find pleasure in trying to humiliate me, trying to make me feel guilty about Asher?

The dark ugliness he woke in me spread upward, searching for release. I turned my head toward his ear and whispered, “He likes it when I cry out his name.” I pressed a kiss to his jaw and curled my hand around the wrist of his hand resting on my hip. My nails dug into his skin as I undulated against his hard body. “Asher,” I groaned and felt Jamie stiffen. “Oh, Asher, yes, harder … Oh, Asher, I love you.”

Jamie slammed his hand hard against the dryer beside my head, and I flinched. He glared balefully down at me, hatred pouring out of him.

Yeah, pal, the feeling is mutual.

He bared his teeth before he opened his mouth to speak and then snapped it shut. Pushing off the dryer and out of my space, the tension in my body deflated a little as Jamie retreated. Then he chuckled. A harsh, unhappy sound. His expression was mock impressed, his voice hoarse as he said, “Baby Doe knows how to play the game. Good.” Malice glittered in his eyes. “Wouldn’t want you to make this easy for me.”

Turning on his heel, he strode out of the laundry room and called over his shoulder, “See you soon, neighbor.”

It was a threat.

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