Amazon: http://a.co/605bWX9When heartbreak happens over the holidays … My name is Tierra Owens, and I like to kiss. A lot. It numbs the hollow ache in my chest and—for a few minutes—makes me forget how truly alone I am. My mother is an alcoholic. She hates me and insists I'm the reason she's not married to my father, whom I have never met. My best friend, Kaylee, is the only person who knows the real me. Everyone else sees what I want them to: a happy, confident, popular girl who has the world at her feet. I am a fraud. Relationships are forbidden. I avoid them at all costs. Sex? Emotions? Those things make a person vulnerable, and vulnerability always leads to heartbreak. When my childhood crush, Mattie shows up at school my world tumbles off its axis. The shell I surround myself with feels more like a pathetic crutch than a protective barrier, and I find myself wanting things. Daydreaming about what it would be like to have a boyfriend, a relationship—love. The sad fact is: I'll never have any of those things. I am unworthy—trash. Which is why my mom abandoned me. *Recommended for readers ages 15+
Kissing: You're either good at it, or you suck. Zachary Harris sucked at kissing. Actually, it wasn't so much that he sucked. It was more like he slobbered. All over my chin. My neck. My ears. My skin felt like flypaper—sticky and gross. Then, of course, there was the issue of the very prominent bulge grinding furiously against my hip. With a groan, Dirk Diggler in disguise muttered a low "f*ck" and licked a gooey trail across my collarbone. "God, you smell good. I want to lick you all over and make you scream." I gagged. Captain Slobber was, indeed, on a fast track to making me scream, but not in the way he intended. I didn't care how popular he was—if I had to endure another second of his gross, reptilian tongue slithering over my flesh I'd vomit. All over him.
It was a damn good thing kissing can be taught. This guy needed a crash course, stat. Calloused fingers trailed a back-and-forth pattern between the hem of my top and the waistband of my jeans. My skin tingled from the soft caress and I dug my fingers into his hair, desperate to feel close, needing the contact, and ashamed of myself for getting it this way. When his fingers began fiddling with the button on my jeans, I shut him down. "That right there is a no-parking zone, baby." I slid my hand from his arm to his shoulder and shoved. "You need to slow down." A pair of dark eyebrows slashed over a set of brilliant blue eyes, the skin between them creasing in confusion. "Slow down? But we were just getting started." He sat back on his hip, his gaze falling to my bed, then to my half-unbuttoned shirt.
The right side of his mouth curled up into a wolfish grin. "I thought this was what you wanted. I mean … you did bring me into your bedroom. I thought you were hot for some action." Heat prickled across my skin like wildfire. I was hot, all right. Just not for him. The sooner he realized that, the better. No guy got past second base with me. Ever. The stupid craving I had to feel close to another person was just that: stupid. Sex, emotions … They make you vulnerable. And vulnerable got you hurt.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Author Facebook: https://www.