Player's Challenge

by Koko Brown

  “Remember what happened after Mrs. Hadley went back inside?”

  “I-I think we resumed our studies.”

  Edging closer, Devin shook his head. “No. We were laughing so hard we collapsed on the couch. The sun was streaming through the bay window in your mum’s living room and lit up your eyes, turning them a golden brown. I leaned over and kissed you.” He curved over her until he was only inches from kissing her. “I took your knickers off and licked you until you came all over my face.”

  Face flushed and feeling like one huge throbbing hormone, Gemma tried to tamp down a sudden surge of desire.

  “I want to—”

  “Devin Spencer!”

  Both of them looked toward the end of the aisle. Some bloke in a soiled mechanic’s jumper was waving his arms at them like a wild man. Thankful for the interruption, Gemma slid around Devin and placed the cart between them.

  “Wanker!” he yelled. “This is for knocking Crystal Palace out of the Champions League.” He wrapped one arm around the other, shooting Croydon’s star goalie a bird.

  “See what I have to put up with.” Devin glanced down at her. The corners of his mouth trembled as he struggled to keep a straight face.

  “Serves you right for not sticking to the boun—”

  “Don’t,” Devin growled. Forgetting they were in public, he lashed out, kicking a row of cans on the lower shelf.

  Sensing his frustration and feeling quite a bit herself, Gemma stepped forward to help him clean it up.

  “Don’t, unless you want to go at it right here and now.”

  Gemma gulped. The heat in his gaze was disquieting. And yet, in spite of the circumstances and the small crowd gathering at either end of the aisle, she was more than a little turned on by his primitive display.

  Still, she decided to err on the side of common sense and gainful employment. “I’ll see you at the car.”

  Chapter Six

  Devin put the car in park, and then reached in the back seat for his gym bag.

  “Remind me again why I’m doing this,” he stared out the window, his hand resting on the door handle.

  “Three words: multi-million pound contract.” She paused to take a sip of her Illy coffee. She needed to charge up for what lay ahead. “You couldn’t buy this kind of PR even if you tried. Plus, it’ll knock four hours off your community service. Now stop being a baby and get out of the car.”

  “You handle me so well.” Winking, he yanked on the door handle and then climbed out. He walked around to her side and Gemma fell into step beside him, her red-soled stilettos clicking on the hot asphalt.

  “Quite a few media outlets have been invited, so expect anyone from the BBC to Channel 1. Of course, they’re going to ask you about the transfer window. What’s your answer?”

  Devin smiled down at her and like clockwork her pulse fluttered. “Have I told you how sexy you are when you talk business?”

  Gemma rolled her eyes. “Every day. You know what they say about a person who’s overly profuse with their compliments?”

  “People tend to think they’re full of bollocks,” he muttered. “Gemma, I—”

  “Eyes on the prize.” Gemma grabbed his arm and pulled him along. During the past week, she’d become quite adept at changing the subject whenever Devin veered to close to the boundaries.

  “Now if someone asks you about the transfer window, what’s your answer?”

  “Are you actually going to wear that skirt in there?”

  Gemma glanced down at her camel-colored pencil skirt and its matching short-sleeved cardigan by Burberry. Her skirt had been tailored to fit snugly, but it didn’t cling like a second skin. She thought she looked rather smart. “What’s wrong with my skirt?”

  His eyes raked over her. “It’s too sexy. Hugs every single curve, especially your arse. All the guys will be drawn to you like bees to honey. I swear if any of them come onto you,” he gritted out, “I might as well retire now because I’ll be sitting in jail begging for porridge for the next twenty years.”

  Secretly pleased by his reaction, Gemma moved to refocus his attention. “I’m a professional, Devin. While I’m with you, as your representative, I’m officially at work. If I can live under your roof and deflect your advances, I can evade a handful of randy footballers.”

  A smile touched Devin’s lips and made him impossibly more handsome. If he only knew he had nothing to worry about, since every man faded into the background whenever he was near.

  “Now, if BBC’s Philomena Holt asks you about the transfer window, what are you going to say?”

  Devin cleared his throat. “Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

  Gemma bristled. The popular sports journalist and gorgeous blonde had a twitter account dedicated to her substantial rack.

  “If I have to keep it professional, so should you. Remember accountability.”

  “You’re right.” Devin’s expression turned serious. “Miss Holt, I’m actively looking at all offers.”

  Gemma balled up her fist like a fake microphone and shoved it into his chest. “And what are your options? Who’s shown interest?”

  Still in character, Devin leaned down as if pretending to be heard in her imaginary mike. “Croydon’s my first choice, but if we can’t come to an agreement, I’ll consider other offers.”

  “What other clubs? Are the offers lucrative?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say. We’re still in arbitration.”

  Gemma held out her hand. “Boom,” they said in unison, and pounding fists.

  Now that he was back on track, Gemma pulled out the day’s agenda as she followed him through Croydon’s players’ entrance. “Let’s go over the schedule again.”

  “Yes, Mum.”

  Gemma suppressed a laugh. “There’s a meet-n-greet with the kids at nine. Then you’ll stretch as a group followed by some drills. Break for lunch. Afterward, you’ll divide into groups and work one-on-one.” Gemma turned the paper over, checking for any additions. “At least you have one thing going for you. The day is pretty short. You’ll be done by two o’clock.”

  Devin adjusted the gym bag on his shoulder. “What are you going to be doing while I’m playing puppet.”

  “I thought about sitting on the sidelines and being pretty.” At his knee jerk reaction, a black scowl that could melt snow, she laughed. “Don’t worry! I’ll be in my own personal nirvana schmoozing the press.” She held her arm out and pretended to ride the pony while smacking its rump.

  They paused outside a pair of metal stadium doors leading to the players’ locker room. Before he went inside, he turned to her.

  “You love your job don’t you?” he asked grinning, which of course made her smile as well.

  “It’s a dream come true,” she gushed, unable to hold back her enthusiasm. “Like you, I’m extremely lucky to be doing what I love.”

  He ran his index finger along his jawline and Gemma braced herself. This particular tick of Devin’s was usually followed by some off-the-cuff comment which had her hair standing on end or wetting her knickers.

  His green eyes took on a thoughtful glint. “Full of bollocks?”

  Smiling, Gemma waved her hand over her head. “Up to here.”

  “I better go in and change.” He glanced down at his watch. “Registration’s in fifteen minutes.”

  He appeared as if he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.

  Somewhat deflated, Gemma stood there long after he entered the locker room.

  ***

  “What’s up, wanker?”

  Devin smacked Butler’s back on his way to his former locker. At the end of the season, the club always stripped the locker room of player’s names, especially the free agents.

  Butler tugged his jersey over his head. “What drugs did you start taking?”

  “I have to take drugs to support the club, give back to my community?”

  “Don’t give me that kumbaya shit, mate.” Butler pushed his shaggy black hair a
way from his face and secured it with a rubber band. “Who twisted your arm?”

  “My new agent.”

  Butler’s brows shot skyward. “Sounds like I need to sign on if he can get you to straighten up and fly right.”

  “He’s a she and you better back the fuck off. She doesn’t need a bloke like you for a client.”

  “Oh ho! You’re fucking her already.”

  “No.”

  “But you want to.”

  “What makes you think that?” Devin yanked his t-shirt over his head and hung it in the locker followed by his jeans.

  Butler’s pale blue eyes widened. “You just confirmed it by not denying it.”

  “She has a no-fraternizing agreement in her employment contract,” Devin mumbled. After changing into his soccer kit, he sat down on the bench and put on his football boots.

  “So she’s open game?”

  A bolt of jealously so strong he could barely see straight surged through Devin. He shot to his feet and got so up in Butler’s face he could smell the younger man’s toothpaste. “If you don’t want to pass your season physical then go ahead. But if you appreciate your knees, you’ll stay two cities away from her.”

  “No need to resort to violence.” Butler threw up his hands. “I’ve got my eyes on another bird.”

  “Only one?” It was Devin’s turn to be surprised. Butler juggled women better than a ball.

  “For now.” Butler smirked. “Which reminds me, I need a huge favor.”

  “If it involves my house, car or agent, the answer is no.” Thinking the case closed, Devin headed toward the exit.

  Butler caught up to him, his boots clicking on the stained concrete floors. “I need a wing man for a double date.”

  Devin shook his head. When it came to Butler, he was never surprised.

  “She’s young and she’s heard all the rumors—”

  “Which are all true.”

  Butler chuckled. “Which is why she won’t go out with me alone.”

  “I’ll pass.” Devin had enough problems of his own.

  “C’mon, another lark will get your mind off that agent of yours. Both of them are gorgeous and supermodels.”

  Devin didn’t expect anything less from Butler. The striker was a snob when it came to a woman’s looks.

  “So what do you say?” Butler asked as they emerged onto the practice field. A cheer erupted from the mob of kids standing near the halfway line. Devin smiled. Maybe this wouldn’t be half bad.

  “You in or are you going home to jack off to a picture of your agent?”

  Devin’s cheeks bloomed with heat. Butler couldn’t be closer to the truth if he were a fly on his bedroom wall. Embarrassed, he dropped to his knees and pretended to tighten his laces. “I’ll think about it,” he mumbled.

  “Don’t take too long to mull it over.” Butler clapped him on his back then back-pedaled onto the pitch. “The date’s tonight.”

  ***

  She was suffering from lockjaw, but Gemma loved every single minute of her first full day representing Devin. Even better, her new client was having fun.

  “Will Devin be available for comment?” Wills Dickerson asked beside her, cameraman in tow. As the sports anchor for TV3, and with an audience reach of three million viewers, he was at the top of their media list. He wasn’t bad looking either with his chiseled good looks and mocha skin which contrasted beautifully with his pearly white teeth.

  “Sure…but there are a couple of others ahead of you.”

  Wills edged closer, flashing his trademark smile which had women plastered to their seats during TV3’s sports segment. “If you give me the first shot at him, I’ll be sure to pepper the interview with some fluff. Put your client in a good light.”

  Gemma’s pulse raced. She loved haggling. “How much fluff?”

  “Forty percent.”

  “Seventy percent,” she countered. “After all, this event is for the children.”

  “You drive a hard bargain but you’ve got you a deal.”

  Plastering on a saccharine smile, Gemma looped her arm with his. “How about we walk over together? Get a jump on the others.”

  On the far end of the practice field, Devin worked with more than a dozen kids split into two groups lined up facing each other.

  “Happy feet, guys. Stay on your toes!” He encouraged while they tossed a football back and forth. “Shuffle, step right,” he yelled and in unison the group moved, while the ball whizzed through the air, bouncing back and forth between the two lines.

  “Always stay square to the ball.” Hands behind his back, Devin walked down the line like an army general. The only thing saving him from looking like a complete grunt was the grin on his face.

  “If a ball is coming at you what do you do?”

  “DON’T. ACT. REACT!”

  “Looks like fun,” Wills pointed out.

  “He couldn’t wait to get out there,” Gemma embellished. “You know…he’s hosting his own soccer camp in a few weeks.”

  Wills eyes widened. “No. This is the first I’ve heard of it.” He fished in an army-green messenger bag and pulled out a reporter’s notepad and pencil. “Can I get more information?”

  “Of course.”

  While Gemma supplied Wills with the details of Devin’s camp, a referee whistle blared across the field. Footballs dropped to the ground, more than one kid groaned in dismay, and Devin’s entire group crowded around him, begging for high fives.

  As soon as he was disengaged from fourteen adoring fans, Gemma waved Devin over. Skin sun kissed by several hours outdoors, he looked like a Greek god with a lopsided grin lifting the corners of his mouth. Unfortunately, when his gaze drifted to Wills and his cameraman, his smile faded.

  Gemma crossed her fingers when the two shook hands. This was the first big test since he’d he’d promised to turn over a new leaf. She just needed to stand back and trust he’d follow the script they’d rehearsed. And most importantly, he needed to think before he opened his mouth.

  Five minutes into the interview, she had nothing to worry about. Devin was charming and affable, and in full control of the dialogue. Animated, he talked passionately about the kids which segued into his soccer camp for disadvantaged youth. He even handled questions regarding the past season with aplomb.

  Everything was going smoothly, almost too well.

  “Now the season is over and you’re a free agent, do you know where you’ll end up after the transfer window closes?”

  Looking stumped by the question, Devin placed his hands on his hips. Gemma clamped down on her bottom lip. He was playing Wills like a cat with a mouse. “Croydon’s my first choice, but if we can’t come to an agreement I’m interested in looking at other clubs.”

  “Boom,” Gemma whispered.

  “Do you think other clubs will come looking, considering your penchant for drama?”

  “A few embellished tall tales and I’m a beacon for drama,” Devin snorted. “My numbers on the pitch are well documented. Hopefully, the league will overlook my past transgressions and take into account the eighteen clean sheets I recorded this season.”

  “So you should only be judged for your play on the pitch?”

  “Exactly. Professional athletes are just that. We play sports and our athletic abilities should be the only thing we’re measured by.”

  “But you can’t deny your heightened profile puts you in a precarious position as role model.”

  Devin opened his mouth, but paused. His eyes cut to her, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “It’s now become glaringly apparent especially after working with these kids today. In the future, I plan to be more cognizant of my actions.”

  Not wanting to push things, Gemma stepped in. “I hate to cut things short, Wills, we need to give the other news outlets an opportunity.”

  “You’re good,” Wills said shaking his head. He shook Devin’s hand, thanked him for his time then hustled off, cameraman in tow.

  “How did I do?” />
  “Perfect,” Gemma crowed as she led him to the wolves. “Now all you have to do is repeat that performance five more times.”

  ***

  “Gemma!”

  Gemma looked up from the papers spread out around her. “What!” she yelled back.

  “Do you have a moment? I need some help.”

  “Not really,” she murmured, pushing her glasses back up her nose. Today was turning out to be a very long day with the soccer camp earlier and Yvonne’s sudden request for an in-depth analysis of his old contract. The sun had set and she’d only tackled the first page.

  Still, Gemma pushed away from the dining room table. She desperately needed a break and now was a good time since she’d planned on pulling an all-nighter.

  Mentally checking off all the things she needed to accomplish before the night was through, she trekked down the hallway. “Where are you?” she asked, entering his master bedroom.

  “In the closet.”

  Gemma followed the sound of his voice.

  O.M.G!

  Back to her, Devin stood in middle of the closet wearing the smallest pair of briefs she’d ever seen. Tight and white, they barely covered his arse, leaving an inch of his butt crack exposed.

  “Whoa. What is all that?” Pulse racing, she waved her hands in his general direction.

  Devin turned around and his cotton briefs gave way to mesh, leaving nothing to the imagination. Nesting on a bed of blond pubic hair, his penis was tucked to the side. Even soft, the tip reached his hip bone. Gemma gulped. He’d grown considerably over the years.

  “It’s not like you haven’t seen my body before,” he teased. His smirk came off like an erotic invitation and her sex clenched.

  Yeah, but back then it didn’t look as good as this! He didn’t have the six-pack abs, those broad shoulders, and an extra three stones of muscle.

  Monstrous, his closet could easily accommodate her bedroom. With him in it, half dressed, it quickly shrunk to a tiny cubby. The sooner she got out of there the better.