His Wasted Heart Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About His Wasted Heart

  Books by Monica Murphy

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  About the Author

  Copyright Notice

  Jensen is a mystery I can’t figure out. She’s a liar. A thief—though the only thing she stole is my heart. She tried her best to escape me and by pure luck, I found her. In the very last place I expected.

  No matter how hard we try, we can’t resist each other, and as we grow closer, she’s starting to reveal pieces of herself. Sharing her secrets, sharing her truths. Yet she’s still hiding something from me, and I can’t figure it out.

  Soon I have my own secrets to keep. One that has the potential to ruin everything…

  Damaged Hearts Series

  Her Defiant Heart

  His Wasted Heart

  Damaged Hearts

  Friends Series

  One Night

  Just Friends

  More Than Friends

  Forever: A Friends Novel

  The Rules Series

  Fair Game

  In The Dark

  Slow Play

  Safe Bet

  Reverie Series

  His Reverie (Book #1)

  Her Destiny (Book #2)

  One Week Girlfriend Quartet

  One Week Girlfriend (Book #1)

  Second Chance Boyfriend (Book #2)

  Three Broken Promises (Book #3)

  Drew+Fable Forever (Book #3.5)

  Four Years Later (Book #4)

  Five Days Until You (Book #4.5)

  Billionaire Bachelors Club

  Crave (Book #1)

  Torn (Book #2)

  Savor (Book #3)

  Intoxicated (Book #3.5)

  The Fowler Sisters

  Owning Violet

  Stealing Rose

  Taming Lily

  The Never Series

  Never Tear Us Apart

  Never Let You Go

  Connect with Monica

  Website

  Newsletter

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Email

  She’s topless. In a strip club.

  Jensen. The girl who haunts my dreams is topless in a strip club.

  What the hell is my future girlfriend doing topless in a strip club?

  I come to a complete stop when I spot her. My friend and roommate Chad, who brought me here tonight, keeps talking, rambling on about strippers.

  “These girls take it all off,” Chad says, his voice extra loud. “And I mean all of it. Fully naked. You see everything. Tits and ass and a pretty little kitty cat.” He starts laughing at his crude joke.

  I stop listening. Instead, I grab Chad, giving him a look that makes him shut up. Maybe I even stop fucking breathing. Because there she is. Like out of a wet dream. And I was lucky enough to have under me. In my bed. Wrapped all around me.

  Every man is staring at her as she walks through the room, like a partially naked sex nymph with a come-hither look in her eyes. She’s like every sexual fantasy come to life. Gorgeous and confident and half-naked, coming right for you.

  That’s Jensen. My Jensen.

  Turns out, it’s not so hot in real life, when there are a ton of guys wanting pussy looking at the same thing you are.

  And the more I study Jensen, the more I realize she doesn’t have a come-hither look on her face. She’s so distracted, she hasn’t even seen me yet.

  But I see her. Hell, I see only her, all of her. Her gorgeous tits—tits I’ve kissed and sucked. Her bare shoulders. Her slender, toned arms.

  My blood boils in my veins. No, with lust. Wait. No. This feeling is too damn primitive for that. My fists clench at my sides. I want to punch something, but I don’t know who to punch, or what. Even if I knew, I’m not sure I could do it.

  It’s like one of those moments in a movie, when you’re frozen in place yet life continues on around you. You can’t move, even though someone is calling your name and strangers are bumping into you as they pass by.

  That moment is happening to me. Right now. I’ve just walked into a crowded strip club on a Saturday night and the first person I see is the girl I fucked not even a week ago.

  The same girl who slipped out of my bed in the middle of the night, never to be seen again.

  The same girl I thought was mine.

  A toxic mixture of anger and shock swirls within me and I whisper, “Jensen,” in a low growl of disbelief, though I know she can’t hear me. But now she definitely sees me. I can tell from the surprised expression on her beautiful face that I’m the last person she expected to be here tonight.

  Well, the feeling’s mutual, babe.

  The black skirt she has on is extra-short and skintight, and the heels she’s wearing are sky-high. She’s carrying an empty tray—really holding it in front of her as if I won’t notice the fact that she’s not wearing a shirt—like she works here.

  I slowly shake my head, the realization sinking in. I’m fairly certain she does work at this club. Hell, I sound like a dumbass in my own head, but that’s how slow I’m processing everything.

  “Bro, what’s your problem? Let’s go. They’re waiting for us.” Chad—who’s older brother is the guy having the bachelor party we’re here for tonight—nudges me in the ribs with his elbow. “Our table is over there.” He points in the table’s direction, and I see a bunch of guys with flushed faces sitting around a giant table covered with empty glasses.

  It takes everything within me to tear my gaze away from Jensen’s, but I somehow manage it. I can still sense her watching me as I follow Chad over to the table, and anger fills me with every step. Seriously, what the hell is she doing here? What made her think it was a smart choice to work at a freaking strip club? And why didn’t she tell me?

  I almost snort out loud. That girl didn’t tell me shit. And when she did talk to me, it feels like everything that came out of her mouth was most likely a lie. She’s a liar.

  Fake.

  It’s embarrassing to realize that the sexy girl I’ve been chasing after for the last month has constantly lied and tricked me. That she works at a strip club as a topless cocktail waitress. If my fraternity brothers found out about this, they’d all be high-fiving me and asking if I get free lap dances. Then they’d probably ask how they could get free lap dances.

  Bastards.

  I quickly glance over my shoulder as we make our way to the table and find Jensen still watching me. I immediately look away. Anger and curiosity go to war within me, and I wonder which one will win. My guess?

  Anger.

  In general, I’m a pretty easygoing person. I get along with everyone. I was popular in high school, and I know why—I’m not a judgmental asshole. Yeah, my circumstances could’ve made me a total snob, but I didn’t let that happen. So my dad is worth a lot of money. So what? I’ve never let that define me. I never tried to get anywhere because I’m Parker Montgomery’s son. My older brother—our father’s namesake—uses that shit whenever and wherever to get what he wants. My little sister is too sweet to do that sort of thing.

  And then there’s me. The typical middle child who wants everyone to like him.

  Right now, though? I don’t give a shit. I’m freaking pissed.
r />   If I’m being totally honest with myself, I’m also hurt. But thinking like that makes me feel like a total baby, so I shove all my hurt little feelings aside and focus on my anger instead.

  When we reach our table, they all greet us with drunken shouts and Chad’s older brother Emmett jumps up to pull him into a bear hug. Chad immediately pushes him away, but they’re both laughing and slapping each other on the back. When the bro fest is over, we head for the last remaining empty chairs to settle in.

  I’m thrown by seeing Jensen, but determined to have a good time tonight. We’re celebrating Emmett’s last days as a free man, and though I don’t know him that well, it’s a big deal.

  I refuse to let that girl ruin my good time.

  “You guys want drinks?” Emmett asks as we sit.

  Chad nods enthusiastically. “Hell yeah.”

  “We just placed another order with the waitress, but she’s moving pretty fast, so it should only be a few minutes.” Emmett grins and leans in closer, his voice lowering. “You should see the tits on this chick. They’re pretty amazing.”

  My blood boils, but I smile in response. I’m guessing he’s talking about Jensen. I don’t want to think about anyone else looking at her naked breasts, but I guess that’s not up to me anymore, is it?

  “You ever been here before?” Chad asks me as he looks around the crowded room.

  “Nope.” I shake my head. This sort of place isn’t my typical scene. I sound like an asshole, but I don’t need to go to a strip club to see naked girls. Hell, go to a sorority party on a Friday night and you’ll see all sorts of topless girls by the end of the evening. You won’t even have to pay a cover charge.

  “Me either,” Chad says with a grin, flicking his head toward the stage. “But so far, I like what I see.”

  The music is blaring, bright lights flashing in time with the beat, and there’s some hot mostly-naked girl writhing around on the stage. She’s clad in a red G-string and nothing else, her enormous boobs swinging as she sways to the music. She tosses her head, her long black hair sweeping across her shoulders, and when she draws closer to the guys sitting by the stage, one of them leaps to his feet to stuff a twenty in her G-string. He snaps the waistband, his fingers lingering on her bare hip, and she flashes him a look, wagging her finger at him as she gracefully backs away from him to resume her dance.

  “Hope you brought lots of extra dollar bills,” Chad says as he starts to laugh. I like my roommate, but he’s rarely as funny as he thinks he is. “I know I have plans on stuffing them in more than a few G-strings tonight.”

  “Go ahead and get started then,” I say, waving my hand toward the stage. The stripper’s fingers are curled around the thin waistband of her nonexistent panties, like she’s ready to shed them at any moment. “Looks like she’s still working for them.”

  With a dirty smile stretching his lips, Chad takes off toward the stage, waving a fiver at the stripper, though she’s not even looking at him. Rolling my eyes, I turn back toward the table just in time to watch Jensen make her approach with a full tray of drinks.

  “Here you go, boys,” she calls, her voice ringing hollow despite the forced cheer. She starts dispensing drinks, every single guy at the table staring at her chest, with the exception of me.

  Been there, done that.

  “Hey, we have some new guys who just showed up,” Emmett tells Jensen, his eyes going from her face to her tits in rapid-fire motion. “You want a drink, right, Chad?”

  He’s not even paying enough attention to us to realize Chad isn’t at the table. “Chad will be right back,” I tell Emmett, who grimaces when he looks my way. “And yeah, I definitely want a drink.” My gaze lands on Jensen, and she guiltily averts her head.

  The anger simmers in my blood as I watch her, and I think of all the shitty things I could say to her. She’d deserve it too, for all the lies she told me. Did she tell me anything that was true? Or was it all a bunch of crap?

  I don’t even know anymore.

  Chad miraculously reappears, sweat beading his forehead and a glazed look in his eyes. He collapses in the chair next to mine. “I want a beer and a tequila shot,” he tells Jensen’s chest.

  “Hold on little brother,” Emmett says, amusement in voice. “Let her give everyone else their drinks first.”

  Jensen seems to move extra slow as she hands out the rest of the drinks, and I remain stiff, trying my best to look indifferent as she draws closer. Her nearness is unsettling. I can smell her familiar sweet scent, and it both arouses me and pisses me off.

  The last time I was with her, I was balls-deep inside her tight little body, savoring the way she touched me, how she called my name when I made her come. That night had been amazing. Unbelievable. I think I came three times, maybe four. And I’m pretty certain I made her come at least five times…

  “What would you like?” Jensen’s voice interrupts my dirty thoughts, and I glance up at her, my gaze narrowed. I can’t think about what she looks like when she comes, or how beautiful she was that night. Her naked skin flushed, her lips swollen, her nipples hard and damp from my mouth.

  Yeah. Can’t think about any of that.

  “What beer do you have on tap?” I lift my brows, silently daring her to say something more. Is she really not going to acknowledge that we know each other?

  Am I also going to sit here and pretend I don’t know her?

  Looks like it.

  She rattles off a few different beers, her voice shaky, and I choose one of the local IPAs, the bot of us looking past each other. Like strangers. She takes down my order and Chad’s, and I watch her as she walks away, heading toward the bar.

  “She’s hot,” Chad says.

  “Uh huh.”

  “She was giving you the look.”

  I turn my head, glaring at Chad. “What do you mean?” What is he talking about? We barely made eye contact.

  “She kept…I don’t know, looking at you. Like she was interested.” He shrugs. “Maybe you should go for it. She’s got a great body.”

  “I don’t go for skanks who work at strip clubs,” I sneer. The moment the words leave me, I feel like shit. Because I actually do go for skanks who work at strip clubs.

  I just didn’t realize it until tonight.

  An hour later I’m exiting the bathroom to find Jensen waiting for me in the darkened hall, biting her lower lip.

  A week ago, I would’ve found that gesture sexy as hell. Right now, I wonder if she’s putting on an act. Ready to play me yet again.

  “Rhett—” she starts, but I cut her off by raising my hand and practically putting it in her face.

  “Not interested,” I say gruffly as I try to walk past her.

  She puts herself right in my path, and the hall is narrow, so I would have to physically move her out of my way to get past her. Meaning I’m stuck. “Listen, I just want to explain a few things.”

  I can hardly look at her I’m so annoyed, but I do. And then I tell myself to stare at her real hard. She’s got a lot of makeup on, especially around her eyes. Thick black eyeliner and lots of mascara, and her lips are painted a deep blood-red. Her skin shines and sparkles, like she sprayed herself with some kind of glitter lotion, and all at once, I’m disgusted. Disappointed. In her and myself.

  I don’t know how to deal with her. I don’t want to deal with her right now. I’d rather lose myself in alcohol for the rest of the night and forget my troubles.

  Instead I’m stuck in a dark hallway with a girl I still care about, even though I know I shouldn’t.

  “What do you want to explain, huh? How you lied to me? How you told me a bunch of bullshit stories about your life and what you do?” I step closer but she never backs down. Instead, she tilts her head back, her gaze locked on mine, appearing fully prepared to take what I have to say. “I tried to help you, Jens. I brought you to my house that night and I was perfectly willing to do whatever it took to be there for you.”

  Like a fucking sucker. What wa
s her real plan on getting to know me? Was she using me because I’m rich?

  She still hasn’t said anything. She’s just watching me with those big blue eyes, now shiny with—ha—tears.

  “And you still ran out on me,” I finish, my voice bitter. I hate hearing that bitterness. Makes me think I actually cared.

  Damn it, I did care, I just don’t want her to know it. Not anymore.

  “I know,” she whispers, blinking up at me. “I messed up, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you. Well…”

  Her voice drifts and I’m confused. What does she mean by that ‘well’? I’ve had a few drinks, a couple of shots, so I’m full on buzzin’. And confused.

  Jensen licks the corner of her lips, sexy as hell even though I’m so freaking mad at her. “I just…Rhett, I’m—sorry.” She practically chokes that last word out.

  “You’re only apologizing because you got caught,” I mutter, grabbing her by her naked shoulders and gently pushing her out of my way so I can walk past her.

  “Rhett, please!” she calls after me.

  “I don’t want to hear it!” I yell over my shoulder, picking up my stride as I head back toward the table. I fall into the seat next to Chad and he claps me on the back, a goofy grin on his face.

  “You’re just in time for the next act,” he says, his gaze hazy and unfocused. He is so fucking drunk.

  But then again, so am I.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome…”

  The lights go dark and the stage is lit with a single spotlight. A woman in a black slinky dress is on stage, sitting on a chair. The entire crowd is quiet, rapt with attention as the music starts, and the woman slowly rises from the chair and begins to move.

  Minutes pass as I watch her, already bored, my mind filled with thoughts of Jensen. How sad she looked only a few minutes ago, her eyes filling with tears, that bullshit apology falling from her pouty lips. I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know what to think. I want to hate her, but sitting here just thinking about her, I can feel it taking over me.

  The wanting.

  Damn it. I scrub a hand across my face, annoyed. I still want her. I’m still attracted to her. It’s ridiculous, but it’s there, staring me right in the face.