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RELEASE DAY: MARCH 2,
2015
Three people.
Three motives. Three reasons.
When
the game leaves the field in the second book in the USA Today bestselling BY
HIS GAME series and mixes with sex, lies, and betrayal, the future isn't the
only thing on the line...
Macey
Kelly has sworn off men. Unless they’re going to zip in and out of her
apartment—and her vagina—quicker than they can give her an orgasm, she’s not
interested. Finding out her boyfriend of three years got her cousin pregnant
was a total confidence knock. Luckily for Macey, confidence is something
she has in abundance, so all Mitch’s asshole move did was make her pretty
cynical toward men.
The
last thing Jack Carr needs at the start of the season is for a dark-haired,
sexy as sin, gyspyesque beauty to be consuming his thoughts. Football is his
life, which leaves no time for girls. Unless they’re the love ‘em and leave ‘em
girls. Becoming one of the best running backs the league has ever seen by
racking up the yards is his top priority… not bedding Macey Kelly, despite her
affinity for blow jobs and total sexual abandon.
Avoiding
each other is the perfect solution, but when your best friends are in a serious
living together kind of relationship, that isn’t always an option. Sometimes,
sex on tap is the easiest option. And the sweetest.
Until
Mitch shows up with a bombshell that could shatter Macey’s perfectly carved out
life. It’s been a year, but he isn’t giving her up, not now he has a chance at
winning her back. And he knows her buttons. Every single one of them.
Unfortunately
for him, Jack Carr isn’t a loser. The star running back has his eye on the
Vince Lombardi—and on Macey. But seeing her hanging between them both isn’t
something he’s down with, not when he discovers why she’s so against anything
more-ish, as she puts it. Macey quickly realizes she’s the ball being passed
between two desperate yet opposing teams, and that only one of them can score
the touchdown. But will the winner be the guy she lived with and loved for
three years, or will the winner be the guy who understands her and makes her
body come alive?
In
this game, someone will be sidelined, and calling the play isn’t always as easy
as it seems.
(SIDELINED
is a full-length, standalone novel. It's not necessary to read BLINDSIDED
before this book, but it is advised.)
EXCERPT
“Put
the drink down, M,” he whispers. “It’s fucking with you.”
“Really?
I thought that was you fucking with me,” I respond, turning to him and pressing
a hand against his chest. “What the hell
are you doing here?”
Like,
right here. Literally.
“It’s
my best friend’s birthday.” He smirks. “Why’ve you been staring at me all night
like you wanna suck and bite my cock simultaneously?”
“I
assure you it was the latter.”
“Sure
it was.” Jack steps into me again, and I grab my glass with the hand closest to
him so I don’t grab his ass or something, ‘cause, shit. He’s got a sweet as
hell ass.
“It
was.” I drink. Again. Where the hell are my girls? “I feel like dancing.” I
finish the glass and twist my body away from his. His hand finally falls from
me as I stalk toward and down the stairs. I slip into the moving crowd, but I’ve
barely moved my hips when two large, strong hands clasp me and tug me backward.
The wall of muscle my back slams into is solid, and I exhale on a whoosh, even
as I close my fingers against the ones clasping my hips.
“Nice
try, baby,” Jack says into my ear. “Run if you want. I’m a running back. I’ll
chase you and catch you every fuckin’ time.”
“Sounds
like a promise you can’t keep, doll,” I reply, my breath catching when he moves
my hips against his.
“Sounds
like a promise you’re afraid of.”
I
laugh and shove his hands away from me. I turn to face him. Even in the
darkness, his eyes blaze bright green, so fucking bright they’re close to
blinding me every time the strobe lighting coasts across his face. And, shit,
it does it so many times, and every time, it illuminates every line and curve of
his perfectly sculpted jaw.
“You
wish, Jack Carr. You fucking wish.”
His
hands snatch mine and he pulls me through the crowd. I fight his hold, but his
grip is too tight. My heart pounds as he drags me through the hall with
certainty, and in two minutes, I find myself pressed against his goddamn car in
the parking lot.
“What
the fuck?” I shout, shoving at him.
He
grabs my hands once more and pins them over my head, effectively bending me
backward on the hood of his SUV. “What the fuck?” he replies, leaning into me,
his voice low. “Is that hard or soft, quick or slow, deep or shallow? ‘Cause
baby, I can fuck you all six of those ways in one go.”
“None
of them,” I snap. “What the fuck, as in, what the fuck, asshole?”
“Oh,
that what the fuck.” He bends forward a little more. Until his mouth is against
my ear and his hard body is pressed right up against mine. “Maybe it’s the what
the fuck I felt when I felt your eyes on me all night. Maybe it’s the what the
fuck I felt when you looked at me like you wanted to fuck me one minute, then
the next, slice my balls in two. Maybe it’s the what the fuck you’ve got in
your eyes while you let me lie my body over yours in a motherfucking parking
lot seconds after I ask you how you want to be fucked tonight.”
“I
don’t want to be fucked,” I reply, doing my best to slam my hands into his
hood. I fail—shit, he’s so fucking strong I can’t even twist my hands in his
grip.
“Baby,
your body says otherwise.”
“My
body is an impulsive fuckwit.”
“Your
body knows me.”
“Again,
my body is an impulsive fuckwit.”
“You
never did say.” He breathes against my jaw and brushes his lips against my
skin. “How do you want to be fucked?”
He
tilts his face into my neck and kisses. Oh, hell, he kisses my neck, right
beneath my jaw, where my chin meets my neck, and I pause. I inhale sharply.
“Get
in the goddamn car,” he orders, releasing me.
“Excuse
me?” I push up and stare at him.
“Get
in the goddamn car,” he repeats, pulling open his door and staring me. “Or have
I gotta throw you into it?”
“I
am not getting into your car!”
He
slams his door shuts and rounds on me. I step backward, but he’s too quick, and
he wraps an arm around my waist. My body slams into his yet again as he opens
the passenger side door of his SUV and throws me into it.
“Get.
In. The. Goddamn. Car.”
“This
is kidnap!”
He
slams my door, and I both see and hear him laughing as he walks to the driver’s
side. “Sure it is, baby. I’m startin’ the engine now, so you got ten seconds to
get the hell out before I drive. One… two…”
From
Emma Hart, the New York Times bestselling author of the Game series, comes a
brand new series where the game is realer, the tension is tighter, the sex is
hotter, and the stakes are the highest of all…
Two
people. Two agendas. Two games.
What
happens when the out-there It-Boy of football meets the secret It-Girl of
fashion?
As
the daughter of Hollywood’s sweetheart, Leah Veronica can’t even buy a coffee
without finding her face on a magazine stand, so it’s no wonder she’s launching
her first fashion line in secret. With it debuting at New York Fashion Week in
just under a month, extra time in the spotlight is the last thing she needs.
The
son of the best quarterback the league has ever seen, filling legendary shoes
as the L.A. Vipers’ quarterback was inevitable for Corey Jackson. So was
meeting Leah Veronica—the first girl to hand him his ass without putting a hair
out of place.
Getting
the handsome, prickly blonde into his bed becomes his number one goal. But
getting the sexy, over-confident footballer the hell away from her becomes
Leah’s—at least until she realizes the best way to do that is to give him what
he wants.
If
only it was that simple.
When
Corey discovers who she is, and private photos of Hollywood’s finest find their
way online, everything they thought they knew is thrown into disarray.
And
when secrets are exposed and hearts are shattered, they have to figure out if
they’ve been blindsided by love or reality, and if it’s worth running the extra
yard to win the game they never meant to play.
By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult
author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful
little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she
fancies - usually wine - and writes books.
Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with
her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top
Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a
shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a
whole lotta love.
She likes to be busy - unless busy involves doing the
dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.
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