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.
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“Mitch.” I spit his name like the poison he is. “Seems he
has a message for me.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Macey mutters, walking into the kitchen.
She reaches for the tequila bottle, but I dart forward and
spin her so her back is against the counter. No way is she drowning her shit in
a tequila bottle this time. No fucking running.
“Leah says otherwise, so, M, why don’t you tell me about his
message for me?”
“I said it doesn’t matter!” Macey’s eyes flash with an anger
and vulnerability stronger than I’ve ever noticed before.
“It does to me!” I yell, leaning into her. My eyes search
her face. “It fucking matters to me, babe, so spit it the hell out.”
“I said. It. Doesn’t. Matter.”
“I say you’re full of shit.” My mouth moves to her ear. “You
gonna tell me or do I hafta fuck it out of you, huh? I’m not averse to either,
but his name could really kill the mood when my cock is inside you.”
Macey shoves at me and I release her. She storms away from
me, toward her room, then stops. “You wanna know? You really want to know what
that asshole has to say to you?”
“Believe me, babe. I’d love him to say this bullshit to me.
Seems he’s a pussy who has to use his ex-girl to tell me though. So let’s
paraphrase. I’d love to know what that asshole has to get you to say to me,
okay? Enlighten me, baby. Go ahead.”
“‘Tell your fuck buddy he’s playing to win a whole lot more
than the Super Bowl this season,’” she whispers. “Or something along those
lines. Close enough, I guess.”
Every nerve in my body goes on high alert. Electric jolt
after jolt booms through me, my adrenaline peaking with his threat. The threat
he can’t even fucking say to my face. More than that, every protective instinct
in my body roars to life louder than an MC club starting their bikes. I feel
those words crawling over my fucking skin, almost paralyzing in their
determination but laughable in their weakness.
“Baby.” I move toward Macey, determined, certain, strong.
She breathes heavily, her eyes screwed shut, her fists clenched
at her sides.
“Look at me.”
She shakes her head.
I grab her jaw and force her head up. “Look. At. Me.”
Her eyes open, and in them, I see a roaring sea of fear and
uncertainty tinted with resignation to the words she expects. The words she
won’t hear.
“What?” Her whispered word is barely audible.
“If you don’t know the rules, you don’t play the game,” I
rasp. “Now, Mitch? He thinks he knows the rules. He thinks he can come back
into your life and dictate shit his way. I think he’s sorely fucking mistaken,
because he has no idea who he’s messing with.” My fingers creep around to the
back of her neck, and her back flattens against the wall. “I play a game every
day of my life, baby. I know more rules than you can ever believe exist. He
thinks he can meet you for a half-assed drink and threaten me? He’s a joke. I
laugh. Really, I do.”
“What?” she breathes again.
“If your fucking ex thinks he can walk back into your life,
into my life, and threaten me with taking something that is inconceivably,
irrevocably, indisputably fucking mine, he has the shock of his
life coming to him.” My words are growled into her ear. “Let him play, baby. He
has no idea what he’s just done.”
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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