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Fumble Recovery

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Melanie Smith has followed football her entire life, and is a long-time fan of the California Wildcats. When they lose the world championship in the final seconds of the game, she is devastated.

But not as devastated as Derek Fox, the Wildcats' handsome and sexy quarterback.

A chance meeting brings Melanie and Derek together, and after the disappointing loss, they turn to each other for comfort in the long and steamy night ahead...



What other people are saying...

Sometimes you want a book that has no pretense of romance. One that the characters have an attraction that is so strong that it’s all about hot, steamy, consensual sex. Fumble Recovery was just that book. Ms. Espinoza’s fast-paced quickie did not beat around the bush. Melanie seemed to be a “Go-getter”. Knowing what she wanted and not afraid to go for it. Derek was used to being in charge but giving Melanie the reins seemed to be in his best interest. The characters were very realistic because life is not always about romance but the little exciting detours along the way that are just as exciting. Be warned that reading this quickie will have you in the mood for a quickie.--Shira at Fallen Angel Reviews




Excerpt

"You're Derek Fox, right?"

"That depends," he said, brushing his brown hair out of his face.

"On what?"

"On whether or not you want to string me up by my balls."

Melanie smiled softly. "No, I'm not interested in that."

He held out his hand. "Derek Fox at your service."

"Melanie Smith."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Melanie." He lifted the beer in her direction. "Cheers."

"Cheers." She watched him drink, trying to force her racing heart to slow. He was bigger in person than on television, his shoulders broad, his hands large. He had scrapes on his face, his knuckles were bruised, and his back was sloped, like it took too much energy to hold himself up. She could see the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders-the weight of an entire team's loss, the weight of hundreds of thousands disappointed fans.

The weight of a ball falling to the soft snow.

"So you were at the game?"

"On the fifty yard line. I bought the tickets after the Wildcats won the sixth straight game."

"Really? Everybody in the world was calling that a fluke."

"Well, I knew better."

He smiled wryly. "Are you sure you don't want to string me up by my balls?" He held up his right hand, flexing his fingers in front of her face. "You know how many career fumbles I had before tonight?"

"Fourteen," she answered promptly.

"That was a rhetorical question."

"Yeah, I figured you probably already knew the answer."

"I'm surprised you did."

"Hey, you're the great Derek Fox. I've been following your career since you played college ball."

"Oh, so that's why you don't want to injure me."

"What?"

"You're used to the disappointment that is my career," he said. He sounded more matter-of-fact than bitter.

"Do you usually do this after a loss?" Melanie asked.

"What?"

She sipped from her beer. "Throw a private pity party?"

He tilted his head and nearly downed the entire pint in a single swallow. "No. Usually, I have a pity party with my teammates, but…"

"They don't want to see you?"

"I don't want to see them."

"Last call, guys. I want to get home before we're completely snowed in," Harold said.

Melanie didn't miss Derek's disappointment at the announcement. She was a little disappointed herself. She would go home, and Derek would go back to his hotel room, most likely, and they'd both pretend that it was only a game. She didn't blame him for throwing a private pity party-she was there to do the same, and she wasn't the one who lost the world championship.

"Look, if there's room at your party for one more guest, I've got some beer back at my place," Melanie said, before she could lose her nerve.