Player's Challenge

Footballer Devin Spencer is a bad boy in need of handling. Notorious for his off-field exploits, he’s pushed one too many buttons, and even his agent has washed his hands of him. If he doesn’t straighten up his act, the Champions League goalie could face his last days on the pitch.

Gemma Clarke is at the top of her game. She’s a sports agent with a bright future. The only dark spot? The recent addition of her former lover, Devin Spencer, to her client roster.

A decade ago their passionate love affair abruptly ended when Croydon F.C.’s development team came calling. Now Devin’s back, the chemistry between them is hotter than ever, and he’s out to prove they belong together by any means necessary.

Player’s Challenge

Koko Brown

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Second Edition Copyright © September 2015 by Koko Brown

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from the author.

Published in the United States of America

Cover Artist: Daryl King

Other Works by this Author

Charmed

The Merry Widow

Carnal Moves

Forever, I Do (All Cooked up, #1)

Cooking with Sin (All Cooked up, #2)

Kisses and Curses

Nerds Are Freaks Too

Player’s Ultimatum (Hands Off, #1)

Player’s Challenge (Hands Off, #2)

Jezebel

Taken

The Viking Wants Forever

This book is dedicated to the readers who loved
Player’s Ultimatum
and demanded I write a series featuring hot guys on the football pitch.

Birmingham, United Kingdom

Eight years ago

Gemma shuffled from one foot to the other. Nervous butterflies abuzz in her belly, she eyed the coat closet.

“I FOUND THEM!” her mother shouted. A moment later she appeared at the top of the stairs. Smiling broadly, she shook her pill case. “Thank goodness, I found these bloody things. Cost me a fortune, the least I can do is take them.”

Gemma was thankful as well. Her mother and a weekend of bingo without her high blood pressure pills were a deadly mix. After blacking out during a bad run, and waking up in a hospital, Gladys Clarke had been scared into being the perfect patient. And if her mother had discovered she’d forgotten her pills while in Brighton, it would’ve ruined all her plans.

Gemma held out her mother’s house keys. The sooner she hit the road, the better.

“Are you sure you’re fine staying here by yourself?”

Heart racing, Gemma rushed to reassure her, “I’m seventeen, definitely old enough to stay home alone for a couple of days.”

“Seventeen or thirty-five, you’ll always be my baby.” Her mother tweaked her cheeks as she palmed her keys. “If you need anything, call—”

“Grandma and Grandpa.” Gemma’s other emergency contacts, her mother’s two sisters, were waiting in the car.

“I wish your father wasn’t stationed on some godforsaken ship.” A frown creased Gladys’ smooth brow and then it was gone. “Did you eat dinner yet?”

Reminded of the two dirty plates sitting in the kitchen sink, Gemma felt the proverbial noose tightening around her neck. “A-a-bout thirty minutes ago,” she stammered.

Oblivious to Gemma’s impending panic attack, her mother crossed the foyer and opened the front door. On the threshold, she hesitated.

Gemma resisted the sudden urge to push her onto the stoop. A second later, she wished she had.

“Hmm,” her mother angled the pill box toward the waning sunlight. “I knew it. I didn’t take today’s pill. I better—”

Before her mother could finish, Gemma pivoted on her heel. “I’ll go get you a cup of water. Stay right here.”

Hands shaking, Gemma grabbed a paper cup from the plastic dispenser next to the sink.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were rushing me.”

Guilt ridden, Gemma squeezed the small cup, crushing it and sending water everywhere.

“Yeah right, Mum.” Pretending to laugh off her mother’s suspicions, Gemma reached for another cup.

“No wild parties while I’m gone.”

Gemma snorted. Far from popular, she doubted her classmates would be keen to hang at her place even in her parent’s absence.

“No wild parties.” Smiling, Gemma handed her mother her water. “I promise.”

“And no, Devin.” Her mother tossed back her medicine and then chased it with water.

Unable to make that
promise, Gemma walked out of the kitchen. Her mother caught up with her in the hallway.

“No Devin,” she reiterated, dogging Gemma’s steps.

With a loud groan, Gemma wrapped her hand around the balustrade, twirled herself about and sat down on the bottom step. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m only Devin’s tutor?”

“Then why is he here all de time?” Whenever she became agitated, her mother’s Jamaican accent made an appearance.

“Um…maybe because he’s a dumb jock.”

Cinnamon-colored dreadlocks swinging around her shoulders, her mother plopped her hands on her rounded hips. “Don’t get cheeky with me, young lady.”

“I’m not,” Gemma pouted. “I’m just tired of you not trusting me.”

“I do trust you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“So not gonna happen. I can’t get hurt, when there’s nothing between us.”

For several heart pounding moments, her mother contemplated her words and then she said, “Come here and give me a hug.” Gemma fell into her mother’s embrace. “Have a good weekend.”

Gemma nodded. “You too, and don’t beat them too badly.”

“Not possible.” Grinning broadly, her mother turned about. “Your mum has her eye on a pair of diamond earrings.”

As soon as the door shut behind her mother, Gemma rushed to lock it. She’d barely secured the deadbolt lock when the coat closet burst open.

“So, I’m a dumb jock?”

Belly beset by another flurry of butterflies, Gemma leaned against the door frame.

“The dumbest,” she whispered. Whenever Devin was around, she always found it hard to talk and breathe at the same time. Five months and six days shy of eighteen, Devin’s body rivaled most men. Athletically built from hours spent on the practice pitch, he filled out his emerald green jumper and matching trainers to perfection.

“Don’t get cheeky with me, missy,” he mimicked in her mother’s lilting Jamaican accent.

“You like it.”

Smiling, he stalked toward her. Gemma’s heart clenched. Standing an inch or two under six-feet, Devin towered over her. Sun spilled through the double door’s top window and turned his shoulder-length, blond hair golden. Shaggy and needing a trim, the locks fell in a chaotic wave across his forehead. Taking pity on him, she reached up and swept them out of the way.

At her touch, he chomped down on his bottom lip. “What were we doing before your mother came home?” He planted his hands next to her shoulders, boxing her in.

Gemma gulped. “We were—”

He cut her off, opting to show her instead. He leaned down and crushed his mouth against hers. Gemma almost giggled. His kisses were always so demanding as if he feared if he let up the least bit she would push him away.
When
Pigs fly!
He and his ardent kisses preyed on her thoughts 24/7.

He must have chewed on a mint while hiding in the closet. His tongue tasted cool and sweet like spearmint. “I love you, Devin,” she murmured as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He pulled back slightly and stared down at her as if she’d just said she lived for Leeds United. His favorite football team’s biggest rival.

Darn and double darn.
Why’d she have to take this, whatever they had, to a whole other level?

“I love you too,” he whispered. “I think I’ve loved you the minute you opened your mouth.”

“When I called Peter Newton a twat for stealing my bag of gummies?”

Devin chuckled. “Beyond classic.” He leaned in again and kissed her, sending a shiver shooting down her spine. “I knew then I wanted to always be in your space.”

A compulsive kisser, he captured her lips again. And before too long his tongue skipped right on in to play with hers. More like tackle, since he left her little room to breathe. His hands, just as persistent, were everywhere at once. He even used his body to seduce her, pressing up against her, crowding her until that part of him raised alarm bells.

“Time out.” She threw her hands up to form a T.

To Gemma’s relief he stepped back, giving her enough room to edge around him. Needing to put some space between them, she went and sat down on the stairs. The respite was brief. He claimed the empty space beside her. Unable to keep his hands to himself, he wrapped one around hers.

“Want to always be in my space?”

“Always.” He smirked, forming dimples in both cheeks. Gemma had the sudden impulse to kiss one of them. She didn’t fight it.

“Why do you have to be so bloody cute?” Leaning over, she pecked his cheek. Gemma would’ve settled for just one, but when he groaned in pleasure, she didn’t stop. As if she’d done this all the time, and wasn’t a certified virgin, she trailed butterfly kisses along his jawline until her lips abutted his.

He moaned even louder, spurring Gemma to remain in the driver seat. She snaked her hand around his neck, drawing him closer. “I love how you taste,” she said, then used the tip of her tongue to trace the shape of his lips.

Suddenly, Devin twisted around to lie on top. Mindful of his weight, he kept the bulk of it on his hands and knees. His tongue slipped past the insubstantial barrier of her slightly parted lips, invading her mouth, filling her, drawing from her, overwhelming her senses. And then there was his hand, creeping beneath her pleated denim skirt, the one she’d worn especially for him. His calloused touch along her inner thigh shot a bolt of heat right to her untouched center.

Gemma shivered. Nothing existed in this world except this boy, this soccer phenomenon every football club in the country was salivating over. His breathing, his fingers, and the mindless pleasure they induced were now the focus of her universe.

Gemma’s heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t believe her feelings weren’t one sided. He loved her. Her. Gemma “The Toad” Clarke.

She was lost. There was no last ditch at reason. All chances for precaution had been thrown out with yesterday’s rubbish. Three simple words had crushed all her defenses. Her mind incapable of functioning, and her body an entity of its own, contracting and straining to get closer to him. And all the while his hand inched upward until at last, to her shock, his fingers touched the most intimate of places. Instinctively, her legs clamped tightly together.

“I love you, Gemma.”

“I love you too, but—”

He cut her off with another kiss. This one more heart felt than the last. His lips held a note of finality, inevitability, causing an odd desperation, an ache. Bordering on pain, it curled deep in her belly. And she was too inexperienced, too powerless to this sudden yearning she didn’t know how to satisfy, but his every move exaggerated.

To her relief he took his time drawing her out. He adored her with his touch, and other nonsensical words until her legs loosened and began to part. He lifted his head, his gaze bored into hers. The heat in his eyes triggered a dampness between her thighs and her heart hammered in her chest.

“Where’s your room?” He was breathing heavily, his broad shoulders rising and falling as if he’d sprinted to London and back.

Legs shaking, Gemma pushed him off her. “Why? We’ve never hung out there before.”

“Or we can just hang out down here.” He flung his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close. “I’m happy either way.”

Deep down, Gemma didn’t want that. And she could sense he didn’t either as he traced a circle on her thigh. Like her, his body vibrated with longing. But he cared about her enough to wait until she was ready. And with this came a sudden rush of awareness of what she was doing, and how she’d hoped this would finally happen between them.

Mind made up, Gemma stood. “There’s something I want to show you.”

His voice had an odd roughness to it as he asked, searching her face. “Are you sure?”

Without waiting on him, and before she lost her nerve, Gemma climbed the stairs. She breeched the landing with his hand in hers.