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The more the merrier
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.
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?”
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.”
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?”
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.