For the love of—" exasperated huff. "Wake up!"

Devon McAteer was quite obviously and quite obliviously a heavy sleeper. At that very moment, he lie spread out in the middle of his bed on his stomach with one great arm curved around a fluffy white
pillow pressed over his head. His back was broad, tapered, muscular, and accented with a fine indent that traveled intriguingly down into the wrinkled white sheets that tangled around his hips and thick
legs. The man was barely covered. His dark brown skin glowed like hot fudge drizzled over perfectly formed muscle and bone. One could only get a body like that from relentless effort, almost insane
dedication. It was the body of a star athlete and the contrast of it against the pale sheets was nothing short of beautiful.

"Come on, man! Wake up!"

Devon McAteer snored as loud as an old dump truck and was, metaphorically speaking, dead-to-the-world. He was also—apparently—impervious to spoken commands. His watcher leaned over in one choppy movement to jerk the pillow from his grasp. "Get up!" She commanded again, irritation raising her voice a pitch. She refused to fail at this for the third time that morning.

The snoring stopped. Devon raised one hand high in the air as if asking a question. It hung there still and intriguing for a long moment. The woman looked on curiously. The arm dropped again then to
grab another pillow to hold over his head. The snoring started almost absurdly soon after, like it had never stopped.

She stared at him. Her brain and some other part of her body warred over whether she should figure out how to get him conscious or take advantage of the opportunity to look at him up close and personal
while he slept. Many women around the world, she knew, would kill for the opportunity to be in a bedroom like this with one of the most talented and famous football players of the time.. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew it well. Hell, all of the country knew this face. He wasn't the most handsome man she'd ever seen. His features struck one a common, plain, at first. Save for a nose that
had been broken more than once. Still something about him invited friendliness and trust and… desire. Wholly attractive though she couldn't quite pinpoint why. Then there was that body. Another long
look and she had to stifle her sigh.

This situation called for drastic measures. She wrung her hands in anticipation because she knew what she would have to do. The very thought filled her with this deep tingle in the pit of her stomach.
Reaching over, she put her hands on a warm and meaty shoulder. Soft and hard at the same time, the feel of him beneath her palms was so sinfully nice that she felt guilty. Get over it, girl, and do your
job! She shook him as hard as she could.

Devon jumped up with a start, his eyes wild and disoriented. "Huh?" He brushed at his face with his hands then snapped his attention to the intruder. "Who the Hell are you?" he demanded, though he seemed to be struggling to gain mental footing. Not a morning person. He was probably trying to clear the cobwebs out of his brain.

"It's eleven-thirty in the morning, practice started hours ago."

"I'm sorry, who are you again? And, what the hell are you doing in my house?" Devon raised his head to look her in the eye.

Then he squinted at her—quite rudely—and let out a long, offensive, "Aww hell naw!"

Just great. Looks like my reputation precedes me.

"Glad you're awake enough to recognize me. Obviously, I'm Jada Green. I'm here because Dane Andrews sent me to see about you." At the name Dane Andrews, she watched Devon's eyes narrow into sharp focus as he scowled. He whipped the sheets off his body and stood in front of her with his fists on his hips. Jada felt her eyes go round, but quickly schooled her features. She was not going to show a
reaction to his admittedly glorious, naked body. Perfectly formed was an understatement.

"You tell Dane that I don't need a damn babysitter!" Devon roared.

"I'd really rather not be called that," she stated plainly. Mentally, she was still patting herself on the back for keeping her cool though she silently urged herself, don't look!

"Listen, Sugar—"

"I'm not your sugar." She gritted out. "Jada Green." She repeated and stuck her hand out to him.

Devon ignored it. "Again, Miss Green, why are you inside my house?"

"Dane gave me a key and the alarm code. He was worried when you didn't show up to practice this morning. He sent me to check on you. I'm inside your house because you weren't answering any of your
phones, you weren't answering the door, and you cars are still in the garage. I needed to make sure you were OK—"

"This shit is priceless," Devon swore. "Look, Miss Green. I'll forgive you for overreacting even though I've shown no predisposition toward harming myself directly or indirectly—"

"You didn't show a predisposition—what nice word choice—toward violence until two days ago either," Jada interjected.

Devon raised his voice to talk over her, "Listen, I may have lost my temper Monday night, but it's the only time I've done it and I—Why am I explaining myself to you? Get out, Miss Green."

With a sigh, she leaned over and picked up the discarded sheet from the floor and casually handed it to him.

Devon looked at the sheet understanding immediately that she wanted him to cover his nakedness. He ignored it.

Miss Green shrugged and dropped the sheet. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going anywhere. Dane assigned me to you for the entire time you're on probation."

"I'm suspended for one game, Miss Green. I have already paid out my ass in fines. What probation are you talking about?"

"Come on, Devon. You know your contract is up for review. You're on extension right now for the rest of this season. For our purposes, let's consider that extension period probationary while we ponder the
possibility of free agency or a trade." She answered calmly.

Devon took an almost menacing step forward. His body moved with slow, sinuous power like a tiger on the prowl. Jada would probably have been fascinated if she hadn't been so wary. She took a step back.

"All that was settled between me and Dane. I didn't sign a new contract at the beginning of the season for reasons that are completely none of your business. But, he knows there's no possibility of me going free agent or being traded."

"Dane didn't indicate that there had been a signed agreement of any sort."

"What the f—"

"Listen, Devon, I don't want to butt heads with you."

"You got to be out your rabbit ass mind! If you don't want to butt heads with me, then you shouldn't be in my house uninvited, in my bedroom for damn sure uninvited, or waking me up from some much
needed rest."

Jada did have a conscience. For the first time, she averted her gaze. Then she spoke again, "I told you why I'm here. You're suspended for a game, yes. You've paid your fines, yes. But, right
now everyone sees you as a loose cannon—"

"Not—"

"Including Dane. You're going to have to face it, Devon. You're stuck with me for the rest of the season. And, right now, you need to get ready for practice. I don't care how late we get there," Jada said
firmly.

"I don't think so," Devon returned with a soft mesmerizing tone to his voice that seemed to crawl all over her skin.

Hell, it seemed to crawl right inside her. A hot waved weakened her knees. A hum sang softly in her ears. She licked her lips not sure what had happened.

She shook her head. Her eyes narrowed with determination. She tried to sound tough but wasn't sure she managed it when she found herself staring at his body once more and feeling her own limbs start to melt again. Jade turned on her heel and walked out of his bedroom. "Put some clothes on," she tossed out.

*****

The fact that Jada Green had the fattest booty he'd seen in a long time was not lost on him. She was wearing a tight white t-shirt that rode up on her slim waist, tight jeans, and black stiletto boots with
silver heels. Her hips were wide and her butt sat high and firm and luscious. Her thighs were thick and her chest wasn't half bad. Her hair was very, very short enhancing the silhouette of a body that
wasn't to be believed. Damn, she was the right kind of thick! Devon thought of her bent over in front of him, curves like a cello waiting for him to… he tried to shake it off, best think about something else
or he was going to need a cold shower… nahh… it was too late to turn back in that department. Maybe he should think of her warm chocolate eyes or her skin of the deepest darkest sienna. Hell, that wasn't
going to do it either.

He just needed to put some clothes on, walk out there, and tell her just what she and Dane could do with their probationary period.

Well, he'd at least do half that. He glanced at his naked reflection in the mirror over his dresser. Yep, that was a very wicked grin.

Devon walked into his living room with a cocky swagger. Literally.