Tempting The Player

TEMPTING THE PLAYER Linda Verji Copyright © 2014 - 2022 by Linda Verji www.lindaverji.com All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent from the author, excepting brief quotes in reviews. This is an original work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events, businesses or locales is entirely coincidental. Edited by Pamela Fe Cover Design by Go On Write {An African American Romantic Suspense Novel} Rated 18+ for Explicit Sex, Strong Language & Violence Contents About This Book Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Epilogue What’s Next? About This Book Eight years ago, Chelsea ‘Chess’ Winters booted her first love, Tazeem Khan, out of her life. He wasn’t ready to be her man, or to handle the responsibilities that came with that role. But now Tazeem is back! He has become everything she needed from him back then. He’s mature, responsible, and attentive. But he’s still just as charming as when she first met him. Despite their complicated past, the sexual tension between them is as wild as ever. He wants her. She wants him. But there’s just one little problem… He doesn’t know that they have a son. ‘You can only give your heart away once. After that, everything else will chase your first love.’ ~ Tarryn Fisher ~ Prologue “O H MY GOD! OH… OH… Oh… Jesus! Holy he- Jesus… oh… oh…,” Chelsea ‘Chess’ Winters chanted in between pained whimpers and gasping breaths. “Whoever is up there… listen. Listen here. I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry.” For the last two hours or so, she’d been chanting variations of the same words as she paced the hospital’s lengthy hallway over and over again. “Are you listening, God? I’m freaking sorry,” she chanted on. ‘It’s my fault. I should-” A sudden stabbing pain forced her to stop talking, stop walking, and open her mouth in a silent scream. When the pain receded to a bearable ache, she took in a deep, shaky breath then resumed walking and singing. “It’s my fault. I should’ve read the Bible more. I should’ve let those Jehovah’s Witnesses into my apartment last week,” Chess sang. “I should’ve kept my legs closed. I shouldn’t have cheated in last year’s exam. I’m sorry, okay. So you can stop now. I don’t need th… Oh my God… ah… ah… ah…!” Another bout of pain forced her to pause again. Everything in her body ached; her back, her stomach, her thighs, her teeth, her head... even her knuckles. Tendrils of her curly hair clung to her sweaty forehead and the sides of her face. The green hospital gown she was wearing stuck to her sweaty body like a bad odor. She wanted to sit. She wanted to stand. She wanted to walk. She wanted to crawl. She wanted to lie down on the cold, dirty floor, and just give up. “I swear I will never have sex again,” she chanted on. “I’ll be a nun. As soon as I’m out of here, I’m taking a vow of celibacy and- oooooooh!” Her chants turned into wails that reverberated through the maternity wing of St. Francis Hospital. She supported herself on the wall nearby as ripple after ripple of excruciating pain pulsed through her body. The nurses passing by barely glanced at her. They were so used to this kind of drama that they weren’t rattled by the crazy woman haunting their hallways. As soon as the pain retreated again, Chess began singing, “When the going gets tough, the tough get going. When the going gets tough… oooh… the tough get going…” The singing would’ve been tolerable if Chess had a singing voice. But she didn’t. Squawking geese had more musical talent than she did. Add in the pained shrilling in between words, and she sounded like a cat getting strangled. It was no wonder that everyone who passed by her winced and gave her an annoyed look. But Chess didn’t give a damn. As far as she was concerned, they could put down their complaints on paper then shove that paper up their ass. They weren’t the ones whose insides were being torn apart by a miniature human. “Chess,” a voice called behind her. “Are you okay?” Chess turned to see her seventeen-year-old sister, Senia, walking towards her. Instantly, her pain was overshadowed by guilt. Senia was still in high school, and her exams were coming up. She shouldn’t have had to be here. This was stupid Tazeem’s job. “Yeah, I’m okay,” Chess lied. A second later, pain shuttled in as if to punish her for the lie, and she whimpered. Senia immediately rushed to her. She tried to grab hold of Chess’s arm, but Chess shook off her hand. “Please don’t touch me,” Chess gasped. She had one hand on the top of her head, and the other hand beneath her protruding belly. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” Bloody hell! It felt like this baby was about to drop out of her at any moment and splatter on the floor along with all her internal organs. Once the wave passed, Chess turned back to Senia. “Have you called him?” Senia made a face. “Yes, but he’s not answering the phone.” “Give me that.” Chess held her hand out for the phone. Once her sister handed the gadget over, she dialed Tazeem’s number. It rang for a while then she was sent to voicemail. You jerk! Chess kissed her teeth. Pick up your phone. It rang for some time then again, she ended up in his