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...
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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.)
ADD TO GOODREADS
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.
Excerpt #2 
About the Author
