RELEASE DATE: January 12, 2015
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.
EXCERPT
Leah’s Great Aunt Ada has been staring at me all night. I’m
hovering somewhere between cute and creepy, because she has the most adorable
little grin she shoots my way whenever I catch her looking. Crow’s feet appear
at the corners of her eyes, and her cheeks flush just a little.
I think she might have a crush on me.
Again, hovering between cute and creepy.
“Aunt Ada. Will you please stop looking at him like he’s
dessert?” Leah sighs, taking Ada’s plate from in front of her.
“Stop hooking up with Bert? Whoever is Bert?” Ada replies,
looking genuinely confused.
I quirk my eyebrow, and Grace leans across the table.
“Hearing aid, Ada.”
The old woman blinks, then slips her hand into her pocket.
She pulls out a small, nude-colored device and fits it to her ear. “Now, Lele,
what was that you were saying about hooking up with Bert?”
Lele?
Leah catches my eye and gives me a death stare. “I didn’t
say anything about Bert. I asked you to stop looking at Corey like he’s
dessert.”
“He isn’t?”
I cough into my hand.
“Ada, it’s late. I think you should, perhaps, go to bed
now.” Grace winks at me and stands.
“But we haven’t danced.”
“People don’t dance at dinner now, Aunt Ada,” Leah tells
her. “They eat, they drink, they go home.”
“Well, how boring. You young’uns don’t know how to have a
good time.”
Grace swoops Ada out of the kitchen with her still muttering
about ‘kids today.’
“Oh, they do,” Leah murmurs, loading the dishwasher. “They
just don’t invite old people along.”
I grin. “Do you need any help?”
She shakes her head instead of answering me verbally. She
hasn’t said a fucking word to me since she rebuffed my offer of a date. Even
through dinner, she managed to contribute to the conversation without directing
a single sentence at me.
And it’s slowly starting to really, really piss me off.
I watch her scrape the plates into the trash then bend over
and put them in the dishwasher. Her dress rides up her legs, the hem hovering
at the very top of her thighs. If she bends over another half an inch, her underwear
will be fully exposed to me. So will her ass, and if she’s that kind of girl,
maybe her pussy, too.
My cock twitches at the thought. Fuck—I want to go over
there and see. I want to flick that stupid fucking dress up and see what kind
of underwear she wears, and if that doesn’t make me hard imagining it…
“Are you staring at my ass?” she asks, her words slicing
through the silence easily but sharply.
“On a scale of one to ten, how honestly do you want me to
answer that?”
“Very honestly.”
My eyes coast over her smooth skin. “About a fifty.”
She slams the dishwasher shut and turns. “Seriously? Is me
telling you to cut the crap an open invitation to ogle me?”
“No, but you wearing a dress that short and bendin’ over
is.”
Her lips thin. “And you wonder why I won’t go out with you.”
“Maybe I’m not bothered.”
“Yeah?” She rests her hands flat on the table opposite me
and leans over. “So why’ve you been looking at me all evening like I’m a math
puzzle you can’t figure out?”
“Because you confuse the fuck out of me.” I hold her gaze.
“One night you don’t want me. The next, you’re in my arms, fucking whimpering
into my mouth. Then not even twenty-four hours later, you’re tellin’ me where
to go. That’s why I keep looking at you.” My eyes drop to her tits. “That and you’re
hot as hell.”
She stares at me until I bring my eyes back up to hers.
“Wow. And that right there is why I just told you ‘no’ when you asked me out.”
She pushes off the table and stalks away from me.
“What the hell are you so mad for?” I get up and follow her
out to the back yard. “You’re the one sending me more messages than I can keep
up with!”
“Then this is the last one!” she yells, turning to face me.
“No. That’s the message, Corey, all right? I can’t go out with you. I cannot be
seen in public with you. I do not need the media craziness that will come with
being associated with you.”
“You’re Grace Veronica’s daughter. They photograph you
getting a coffee, for fuck’s sake!”
“And that’s why I don’t need more attention!” She runs her
fingers through her blonde hair. “I just don’t, okay?”
“Why? It makes no sense.”
“It does to me.” Her eyes soften and she wraps her arms
around her waist. “It’s dangerous for me, okay? I can’t explain why, so you
have to accept that as it is. You have to take my no for a no and just leave it
alone.”
“See, that’s where the problem is. I can’t,” I say, moving
closer to her. She doesn’t move. “I wanted you the moment I saw you in the bar.
I wanted to fuck you, Leah. I still do. I’d love nothin’ more than to have your
body beneath mine right fuckin’ now. But you turned me down with that sassy
mouth of yours, and now I’m intrigued by you.”
“Intrigued by me? There’s nothing to be intrigued by. I’m
pretty boring.”
“You’re wrong,” I mutter, dipping my face close to hers
without touching her. “I want to get under your skin, darlin’. I want to
consume you. Even if it’s only for a night. I want to finish what I set out to
start when I walked up to you in that bar.”
“You can’t.” She swallows.
“I can and I will,” I echo her words from earlier. “I won’t
leave you alone, Leah. I will pursue you until I get what I want. Until I get
you.”
“You won’t. Get me.”
I cup her jaw and brush my nose along it. “I want you, Leah.
And I always get what I want.”
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.
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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