Read Online Blindsided by Emma Hart - Free Book Online

media would make sure the world and its asshole knew about it.”
    “Just checkin’.”
    “Why? You wanna fill the empty slot?” I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.
    He laughs and flips my hand over on the table. He grabs my arm, and his thumb traces little circles on the inside of my wrist. Shivers snake down my spine at the gentle yet erotic touch.
    “Possibly,” he murmurs. “Are you taking applications?”
    “Absolutely, but there is a condition. Assholes need not apply, so looks like you’re out of the running.” I snatch my wrist away from him. “Excuse me.”
    I get up, grab my purse, and walk through the room. I say a few hellos to people I know, but I don’t stop to talk. Hell no.
    I shove the restroom door open and lock myself in a stall. Fuck it all—I’m leaving. Every time he speaks to me, he draws me into his game, playing me until I fall into his setup and he wins the round.
    Someone get a bell to warn me of this shit.
    The heels of my hands dig into my eyes, and I unlock the stall door. Then I head straight for the doors and hand my ticket to the valet. He nods and goes to collect my car.
    “What are you doing?”
    I look at Ryann. “I’m going home before I end up in an orange jumpsuit for the rest of my life. Thank you,” I add to the valet, taking my keys.
    “And when he asks me where you are?”
    “Tell him I’m sick. Add ‘of him’ if you want to.” I shrug and get in the car. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
    “All right. Hey…you’re okay, right?”
    “I will be when I get home.” I smile and put my foot down.
    I blow out a long breath as I drive away from the hotel. Jesus, I’m not this girl. I’m not the girl who fucking runs just because it’s too much. I’m the girl who stays and battles through to the end because taking shit isn’t something I was raised to do.
    The problem is that it doesn’t bother Corey. I can see it in his eyes. He thrives on getting me angry. It’s funny to him, and he’s slowly finding every one of my buttons.
    He knows I’m not his type. He knows I’m not the girl who will roll over onto her back and beg for him. He knows—one hundred percent—I won’t sit back and let him do whatever he wants without any consequences.
    That’s why he wants me. He said it himself. He wants the challenge. He wants to push me to my breaking point. Then he wants to bury himself inside me and tip me over the edge.
    A part of me wishes I were his type, that I were the kind of girl who could stomach one-night stands. I’m not against them, but they’re not who I am.
    I enjoy sex as much as the next person. I enjoy slow, deep lovemaking, and I enjoy hard and fast fucks. But I respect it, too. I respect the connection that comes from being so intimate with someone, and I won’t ever lose that. I won’t let it go. Sex is for relationships, for trust and strong feelings, not hurried looks and drunken liaisons.
    Which is why he won’t get what he wants.
    I lean out of the car and push the code in for the gates. They open, and I drive through, desperately wishing my mind could get the hell off him and onto the fifty possible outfits waiting for me on my desk.
    I wish I could focus on scarves and neckties, on socks and gloves.
    I park the car in front of the garage and shove my keys inside my purse.
    “Leah.”
    I turn at the sound of his voice. “What are you doing here?”
    “What are you doing here ? ” Corey responds, slamming his car door.
    “I live here.” My jaw clenches.
    He walks toward me, his steps strong, his gaze unwavering. I swallow as he gets closer because, although it’s dark, I can see his expression. The light from the house gives me a full view of his tight jaw, his pursed lips, his strong cheekbones. The annoyance in his gaze glints bright green, and I wonder how he’s the one who is annoyed when I’m the one he pisses off.
    I stand steady, but he doesn’t stop when he reaches me. Instead, he grabs me and pushes me against the