SHATTERED HEARTS by Eva Charles: Excerpt Reveal & Teasers
Sheltered Heart by Eva Charles releases January 11!
Check out this sweet and spicy excerpt:
Sophie
I washed my face and fell into bed, but sleep didn’t come. My mind kept wandering to Max, and that not-so-little package below his belt that burrowed into my belly while we danced. Those thoughts did little to relax me.
With each breath, my nipples rubbed against the fabric of my camisole, the tips so sensitive it felt as though my pajamas were made of coarse sandpaper. After a little while, the heightened sensation began to trigger an urge lower, much lower. It had been ages since I’d danced with a man I wasn’t related to, and even longer since one caused a delicious ache between my legs. A headache was the only ache I’d gotten from a man in years.
Painfully aroused and unable to get comfortable, I boxed with my pillow, punching until I’d flattened it into submission.
What’s wrong with me?
It didn’t matter how blue those eyes were or how unbelievable his hands felt on my skin, I wouldn’t fall prey to the same mistake. I just couldn’t. Was my self-esteem still so fragile that I was only attracted to womanizers? Did I honestly believe they were the only type of man I deserved?
No, and no.
Despite what Eric wanted me to believe, I deserved a man who respected women—one who respected me. Max Parker wasn’t that man. He was the kind of man who took his pleasure and then moved on—nightly. Not your type, Sophie.
Tossing and turning, I worked myself into a huff, incensed that he’d accused me of dating Daniel for his money. Max didn’t know me, but tunnel vision had closed him off to any other possibility. Instead, it led him to the precipice of a ridiculous conclusion, and then he leaped right in, like an impulsive child. His rude behavior reminded me of the way my cousins acted when my sisters and I brought home dates, but even more pathological. Hard to believe it was even possible.
I’d let him get under my skin, let him irritate me to the point where I lost every bit of composure and called him an ass. But I refused to feel bad about that. He deserved it. Besides, it was true. He was an ass—a drop-dead gorgeous, self-absorbed ass, one who had just enough swagger to leave me needy and wanting.
hands felt on my skin, I wouldn’t fall prey to the same mistake. I just couldn’t. Was my self-esteem still so fragile that I was only attracted to womanizers? Did I honestly believe they were the only type of man I deserved?
No, and no.
Despite what Eric wanted me to believe, I deserved a man who respected women—one who respected me. Max Parker wasn’t that man. He was the kind of man who took his pleasure and then moved on—nightly. Not your type, Sophie.
Tossing and turning, I worked myself into a huff, incensed that he’d accused me of dating Daniel for his money. Max didn’t know me, but tunnel vision had closed him off to any other possibility. Instead, it led him to the precipice of a ridiculous conclusion, and then he leaped right in, like an impulsive child. His rude behavior reminded me of the way my cousins acted when my sisters and I brought home dates, but even more pathological. Hard to believe it was even possible.
I’d let him get under my skin, let him irritate me to the point where I lost every bit of composure and called him an ass. But I refused to feel bad about that. He deserved it. Besides, it was true. He was an ass—a drop-dead gorgeous, self-absorbed ass, one who had just enough swagger to leave me needy and wanting.
Maybe my sisters were right. Maybe I needed to stop hiding behind my work and make a concerted effort to start dating again. It was the last coherent thought I had before my fingers slid down my belly.
Max
It had been a banner night. First, I wrongly accused a woman I just met of using her body to extort money from my father. And even after I groveled, she continued to ridicule me, showing absolutely no mercy. She practically accused me of being a monster who preyed on young women because I had something to prove. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Yes, it’s true I preferred younger women, but it’s because they normally expected less from me. Friends with benefits was a concept they appreciated.
The last thirty-something-year-old I went out with, Sharrin, informed me—right before she threw a bookend at my head—that I was the perfect date: a hard-to-get theatre ticket, an exclusive dinner reservation, an attentive lover, generous with my money and my body—and then she picked up the bookend and let it rip like a major league pitcher, shrieking that I was an emotionless bastard who would die alone, surrounded by nothing but empty whiskey bottles.
She was partially right. I guarded my heart closely, gave it to no one. But I also never promised anyone anything more than a good time. Still, there were women like Sharrin who thought they could change me. Women who were old enough to know better. Over time I learned to avoid them, no matter how tempting.
When I put my mind to it, there’s no one more disciplined than I am. It’s how I achieved success in business so quickly. Not much rattled me, at least outwardly, but Sophie Clayton and that business with my father threw me for a loop tonight. Or maybe it was just Sophie who had gotten to me. She’d pushed every single one of my buttons—again.
The more I thought about it, the less I liked it. Now I just wanted to sleep and erase all memory of her. But my mind and body conspired to keep me awake, tossing and turning, while the minutes became hours. I tried to take the edge off, but it didn’t do a damn bit of good. All I could think about was how she smelled, and how good she felt in my arms while we danced. And how she’d feel clenched around my throbbing cock. Unfuckingbelievable, if anyone wants to know.
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About Eva Charles
Eva Charles is the author of the multi-titled Meadows Shore Series that chronicles the lives and loves of the Clayton-Harrington family. She invites you to visit their beloved Meadows Shore nestled in the charming seaside town of Fair Harbor, where you will enjoy love, laughter, loyalty, and an abundance of mouth-watering food, Portuguese style.
After being a confirmed city-girl for more than thirty-five years, Eva moved to beautiful Western Massachusetts in 2014. There, she found herself living in the woods with no job, no friends (unless you count the turkeys, deer, and coyotes roaming the backyard), and no children underfoot, wondering what on earth she’d been thinking. But as it turned out, it was the perfect setting to take all those yarns spinning in her head and weave them into a romantic tale.
When she’s not writing, trying to squeeze information out of her tight-lipped sons, or playing with the two cutest dogs you’ve ever seen, Eva’s creating chapters in her own love story.
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