To be fair, he’d picked up the game incredibly quickly. I’d been surprised by the way his brain worked. It was understandable he’d made a simple mistake.
“Right, but if I offer him my home rook instead of my resource rook, when my home is located on vast mineral wealth, can’t I then offer my resource rook to another player and make use of both in the same way?”
I stared at him before blinking at the board and realizing what he’d set up. “Fuck.”
His chest puffed up. “The student becomes the teacher. You may blow me now.”
I held his chin and turned his face away from me before blowing a hot stream of air behind his ear and down his neck until his skin broke out in goose bumps and his shoulders contracted. “Jesus fuck, Jeffrey,” he breathed. “Why is that hotter than a real blow job?”
“You’re not getting out of this game by distracting my dick,” I warned, pulling away. “Make your second move.”
He stretched his neck, tilting his head from side to side and groaning again. “You’re purposefully distracting me. That’s a dirty tactic.”
“Yes, well, I may have forgotten to mention that according to family lore, my great-great-great-great-grandfather was a privateer. It’s in my blood.”
Jett reached for his influencing bishop and played it to the blue board, next to red’s rook. Solid move.
“Why does it not surprise me that you’re from a family of pirates?” he muttered, reaching for his glass of wine.
“Privateers,” I corrected. “We pillaged for the crown and had the law on our side. It’s different.”
“Barely!” he spluttered with a laugh.
I took a minute to focus and move two countermoves. Then Jett moved for the red player, and I moved for the blue. We continued playing until he made another unexpected countermove.
“Audentes fortuna iuvat,” I muttered.Fortune favors the bold.
He snickered. “Fata viam invenient.”The fates will find a way.
I stared at him. “You speak Latin.”
He blinked and flushed pink in the cheeks. “What? No. Jesus. I saw it in a movie once about the Trojan War. In history class? I can’t remember.”
“You sounded more sure than that,” I said.
“I’m good at languages,” Jett admitted. Which explained the blush. “I learned High Valyrian fromGame of Throneson Duolingo.”
“No,” I said, laughing.
He bounced his eyebrows, but his words were formal and solemn. “Skoros iksos hen lenton.”
“And that means?”
“It’s like, totes true,” he said, using a cheeky, playful accent.
We took a few more turns before Jett suddenly boxed me in. “Ha! Now you’re going to have to sacrifice your home rook if you want to save your king. Suck it, Paxis Daddy.”
I sacrificed my home rook but then quickly took it back on the next move. “My company’s called Maris Holdings, Jethro. Not Maris Take and Give Back. Once something’s mine, I keep it. It’s pretty much my family motto.”
He didn’t look very bothered by the loss. His eyes were bright from the wine and lips cherry red. “Pirates gonna pirate, Iguess.” He tapped his chin. “Inrealchess, you can’t just do that, you know. Inrealchess, these moves have dire consequences.”
If only he knew how dire real Paxis moves were in the game I usually played.
“You want to challenge me to a game of real chess, Jethro?” I teased. “Because I’ll kick your ass in that, too.”
The heat of competition flared in his eyes. He knocked all the pieces and boards away except the black set closest to us. He quickly set it up for a game of straightforward chess.
And then he wiped the board with me again. “Rematch,” I said in disbelief.
