Player's Challenge (5 page)

Devin didn’t look up when she entered the living room. His eyes remained fixed on the sixty-inch flat screen television while he clicked through channels. He sat in one of the club chairs, a bottle of ale rested at his elbow. He’d taken a shower as well because his hair was still damp and brushed back from his face. Shirtless, he lounged spread-eagled in a pair of dark blue trainers.

His tattoos were much more extensive than she previously assumed. Both arms sported sleeves, several lines of script ran along his rib cage and a heart-shaped lock, with a key dangling from it, covered his pectoral muscle.

“Feeling better?” Still not looking at her, he continued to flip through channels.

“A hundred percent better. Even though I was strong armed into staying here, I appreciate your hospitality.” Gemma sat down on the sofa and curled her legs under her. Feeling somewhat exposed, she eyed a decorative throw slung over the arm of the couch and covered her legs with it.

Devin found a channel featuring a documentary on South African lions and set the remote down. “Are you hungry? I still have a few pieces of sushi left.”

Gemma scrunched up her nose. “I’ll pass. I had dinner twice.”

Chuckling, Devin shook his head. “You are so lucky I picked you up and not Gladys.”

“The bobbies hit the jackpot when you walked in.” Gemma agreed, shivering in mock horror. Her mother was a five foot powerhouse. “Mum would’ve bum rushed my flat and taken complete control of the investigation.”

Speaking of her mother…

“How do you know my mother is out of town?”

Devin lifted his hand and ran a finger along his jawline. Gemma was beginning to think it was a nervous habit of his when he hated telling the truth and someone wasn’t going to like it.

“Your mother and I, we stay in touch.”

Gemma’s mouth fell open. What did he mean they stayed in touch? “How much in touch? Do you just talk on the phone or do you have cozy Friday night dinners together.”

“Why?” He reached up and scratched the back of his head.

“I want to know the extent of your communication, so I can estimate how long I won’t be speaking to her.”

“We talk every now and then.”

Gemma rolled her eyes. He was actually trying to beat around the bush. “When was the last time you talked?”

“A few weeks ago, I ran the idea of signing with Top Flight past her to see if you would be amenable.”

Gemma’s stomach dropped. To think her mother’s opinion depended on the firm landing one of their biggest clients. “What did she say?”

“She laughed at me for a good five minutes.”

Good ol’ Mum! “And you still became our client?”

“I sort of didn’t have a choice. No other firm would take me.”

Well, that
wasn’t
a lie. Devin had dug himself such a hole he’d been dropped by his agent. And any sports agents worth his weight in sponsor endorsements could smell a small commission check a thousand miles away.

“I think we need to set some boundaries.” Somewhere between the ride from her house and Devin’s, she’d decided to keep him on her client list. Plus, it would be rather heartless to kick someone to the curb when they’d open their home to you.

Devin placed his hands under his head. “I’m listening.”

“I’m only going to stay here until Mum and Dad get back from their cruise next week.”

“You can stay here as long as you like. The place is big enough for both of us. Plus, twenty-four hours after you walk out that door, you’ll be begging me to come back.”

Gemma chuckled. She adored her parents, but her mum could get on her last nerve, which happened 99.98% of the time. “I appreciate the hospitality.”

“And it will never be rescinded. I don’t want you to leave until you’re ready.”

Gemma rubbed her tummy. His words made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“While I’m staying here, there will be absolutely no shagging.”

Devin cut his eyes at her. “No shagging between us? What about someone else?”

The thought of him sleeping with other women made Gemma’s skin crawl, but she couldn’t tell him who he could and could not sleep with. It was no longer her place.

“No shagging between us,” she clarified.

Silence hung between them and then Devin uncurled himself from the chair and walked over to her. He leaned in, placed his hands on either side of her hips, caging her in.

Gemma gulped. It was better than panting! He smelled like heaven.

“There will be no shagging between us and no one else for that matter. It won’t be pretty if I caught you banging some other bloke under my roof.” He pushed away from her and dropped the remote in her lap. “Those are
my
boundaries.”

“Okay,” Gemma whispered but inside she was pumping her fist. For the duration of her time under his roof, there would be no other women in his bed.

“Please don’t…stop…take it!”

Gemma kicked out at her assailant, but her legs were paralyzed. Refusing to be a victim, she swung her fist.

Once.

Twice.

Not connecting, legs still immobile, Gemma tried rolling away. One moment she was weightless, free of her attacker, the next the air rushed from her lungs.

Gemma blinked down at the hardwood floor then over her shoulder at the bed. It must have been a bad dream. A painful one to boot. Groaning, she pushed herself to her feet.

“You okay?” Devin asked from the doorway. “I heard something fall in here.”

Frowning, Gemma massaged her shoulder. It smarted like a mother. “No worries, just a tiny spill.” She gave him a reassuring smile, but froze.

Dressed to workout, Devin was a walking sexual fantasy. Hair slicked back and parted on the side, he looked more like a High Street model than a professional footballer. Legs toned from hours of practice, calves practically bulging with muscle, his body was powerful yet sleek, like a jaguar’s, and well-suited for his job since bulky muscle would hamper his ability to react at a moment’s notice.

Bloody, freakin’ contract.

He pushed away from the door jamb, and walked toward her. When he stopped in front of her, green eyes narrowed, scrutinizing, she became hyperaware of everything. She noticed the gold flecks in his eyes. The old scar above his lip. His delicious, masculine scent.

And of course, her own inadequacies came into ultra-focus. Self-conscious, Gemma wiped at her mouth. “What?” Had she drooled in her sleep?

“You’re oozing.” He pointed at her brow. “Your dressing needs to be changed.” His eyes met hers and goose bumps ran down her arms. “Want me to do it?”

In more ways than one.
“If you don’t mind.” Gemma hated rashes, broken bones, cuts, blood, stitches, sores and most definitely pus, but not in that order.

As soon as he turned around, reaching for the peroxide and bandages on the nightstand, Gemma exhaled in relief. The charge she got from him made her frighteningly alive, like a natural high.

With surprising efficiency, he removed the butterfly closures and threw them into a nearby wastepaper basket. He then placed a cotton pad underneath her eyebrow and tipped the bottle of peroxide.

Possessing a low tolerance for pain, Gemma’s hand shot out to stop him. “It’s going to sting, isn’t it?”

His eyes gravitated to the open wound. “Most definitely.”

Gemma let his wrist go. “Okay…” She squeezed her eyes shut, “I’m ready.”

The cold peroxide trickled onto her skin and quickly turned into liquid fire.

“Owowow—”

A warm pair of lips suddenly cut off her yelp of pain. Gemma’s eyes shot open, meeting his. The pain had nothing on the shock of re-discovering how soft his lips were and how much she wanted to feel his tongue entwine with hers.

All too abruptly, he pulled away.

“W-why did you kiss me?” Panting, Gemma licked her lips, savoring the taste.

“Get your mind off the pain. Did it work?” Cool as a cucumber, Devin tore into a clean bandage.

More than worked. Her head wound barely registered and her job was beginning to look more and more like an inconvenience. Bothered by her reaction, she ducked her head. “It still stings,” she lied.

“Then I should do it again.”

He leaned in again. Afraid she might want more, Gemma held up her hands. “I’m good, really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Finish what you’re doing, Devin.”

“You’re no bloody fun.” The sides of his mouth twitching, Devin applied the fresh bandage then stepped back, admiring his handiwork. “I’m heading to the gym, but I’ll be back in an hour. Be ready so we can go eat breakfast.”

Gemma’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you didn’t like eating in public places.”

“Normally, no.” Devin averted his gaze, taking particular interest in the bed’s white duvet cover.

Smelling a rat, Gemma pressed, “Last night, when you were so adamant about ordering in, that was a set up wasn’t it?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“Devin…”

He ran a finger along his jawline. “The freaks come out at night?”

“
Devin
…”

“I haven’t seen you in eight years. I didn’t want to share you with the public.”

He stalked to the door, and Gemma remained on the bed, stewing in pheromones. “I’m your agent, Devin, not your girlfriend.”

Pausing on the threshold, he turned around. “Agent…girlfriend. Either way you’re screwing.” He even had the audacity to wink before he closed the door behind him.

***

Devin flashed his gym pass. The blonde handed him two warm towels and wished him a good workout. Devin grunted. He would’ve preferred a workout of a different kind. One involving crawling in bed with Gemma and making love to her ’til her eyes crossed. Since she wasn’t quite ready for that, he’d pulled himself away and headed to the club.

After stopping to stretch, he jumped on one of the open treadmills. Three times a week, he alternated between HIITS and plyometric exercises to increase his endurance. Eschewing weights, so as not to become too bulky, he maintained muscle with full body workouts two days a week.

Today more than ever Devin needed the monotony the treadmill afforded him, and he prayed the forty-five minute drill would cool his ardor. Several times, he’d been so close to slamming Gemma onto her back and ripping her clothes off, he’d gone to bed and jerked off to an image of her in his head. Awaking with another raging hard-on, he’d dressed and gone straight to her room to check on her.

Devin ran his hand through his hair.

Shit!
He had it bad.

“What’s new,” he muttered under his breath. He’d been in love with Gemma for so long, he couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t. His love for her was one of the reasons he’d left Birmingham without saying goodbye. If he’d stayed, he would’ve ruined both their lives. Of course, after a couple months he knew he’d made the biggest mistake of his life. With his tail between his legs, he’d tried to reconnect. Each time led to a dead end with him sitting on the phone talking with Gemma’s mother, Gladys. He’d been content with the second hand contact for years, maintaining some kind of connection had been better than nothing.

Until a year ago.

Devin increased the level on the machine to nine, jacking his pulse up to eighty percent. Heart racing, he was reminded of last winter when he’d noticed her on the sidelines of a match against cross-town rivals Kent F.C.

Seeing Gemma again after all those years apart had knocked the wind out of him. She’d looked adorable in her skinny jeans, club jersey and sexy thigh-high boots. Her effect on him was so profound, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. In turn, he’d given up two goals. Not enjoying the death threats shouted at him, he’d snapped out of it by the third quarter and defended Croydon’s goal so they could go on to win 3-2.

After asking around, he’d learned she’d been there to support Top Flight’s newest client, Royce Benedict, Kent’s bullish mid-fielder. Armed with this information, he’d hatched a plan.

Devin still couldn’t believe it’d worked. Almost too well with her becoming his roommate practically overnight. Of course, that part hadn’t been part of his design. Needing to hit something, Devin punched the level button twice, increasing the speed of the conveyor belt. He hit his stride and ran full out. If he ever crossed paths with the wanker who’d attacked Gemma, he’d knock every tooth out of his head.

Still, no matter how horrendous the circumstances, it’d worked in his favor. Gemma was under his roof. And he’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t going to capitalize on the situation. She was just too hard to resist with her cock-raising curves.

Of course, the no-fraternizing clause in her contract was a huge stumbling block, but not an obstacle. They were both adults. They could keep a secret, right?

***

After taking a shower, Gemma pulled on a pair of white jeans and a pink tank top. She was flat ironing her hair when her cell phone pinged. Without even looking at the screen, Gemma knew who it was. And all morning, she’d struggled with how much of last night’s events she would divulge Yvonne Floyd-Saito was a smart business woman, but she wasn’t a machine. She remembered her birthday, always asked about her welfare and her family’s. She’d even invited Gemma to her family gatherings including her daughter’s second birthday party.

Still, Gemma decided to keep the conversation strictly centered on business. She didn’t want the conversation to drift to personal things, risk slipping up and putting her career on ice.

“Calling to see if I survived the big, bad wolf?”

“Guilty as charged.” Yvonne chuckled. “So, is the wolf ready to be tamed?”

“Lock, stock and barrel.”

In the pregnant pause, Gemma heard the blood pounding in her ears.

“Hmmm…I don’t like that.”

Gemma smiled. He’d had the very same reaction. “He’s assured me he’s ready to straighten up his act.”

“We’ll see sooner, rather than later. I already have an assignment for you. Croydon is hosting a youth soccer camp this weekend. According to the club, Devin’s on the fence about participating. Make sure he signs on. Once you get confirmation, announce it on his social networks.”

Gemma made a few mental notes and then moved to end the conversation. “I’ll text you as soon as I get confirmation.”

Her boss wasn’t ready to hang up.

“So?”

“So what?” On edge and unable to sit still, Gemma walked from the guest bedroom into the living room.

“What do you think of him? Besides the bad boy attitude, what do you think of Devin?”

“He’s nice enough.”

“Nice…
nice
…that’s all you have to say?”

Gemma’s heart raced. There was no way Yvonne could’ve known about their past or her temporarily moving in with him. Needing to deflect attention from herself, Gemma turned the tables. “Why are you checking out the merchandise? Aren’t you happily married to one of the sexiest men in football?”

“
The
sexiest,” Yvonne countered, “Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t have a pulse. I swear the guy is a triple threat: gorgeous, charming and panty-dropping sexy. If I wasn’t married to a great guy and the mother of two, I would so hit that.”

Gemma clutched her cell. For some odd reason, she wanted to snatch her boss bald headed. Of course, it was only a passing fancy because she was
so
not jealous.

“What about your ‘no-fraternizing’ clause? Would you really sleep with a client?”

“Honey,” she said, her southern accent dripping with sugar. “I started my firm sleeping with my first client.” Yvonne snorted. “But in all seriousness, sleeping with our clients is in poor form. If I stripped away the clause, the firm would be a revolving door of employees and clients.”

In all honesty, Gemma was secretly happy with the obstacle created by the clause. Last night, it kept her from making the biggest mistake of her life. If the threat of losing her job hadn’t been looming over her head, she would’ve tumbled into Devin’s bed. And where would that have left her? Picking up the pieces of her heart again.