I take a long drag from my cigar, letting her question simmer between us like whiskey over ice. The ember glows bright orange in the dim room as I inhale, casting momentary shadows acrossthe mahogany chess table. The rich tobacco smoke curls around us, a possessive fog that gives me time to appreciate how she looks wrapped in my blanket, wearing my shirt.
The thin white cotton might as well be transparent; her nipples straining against the fabric as if they’re begging for my touch, the full weight of her breasts visible in excruciating detail. Every breath she takes is torture—the rise and fall drawing my eyes like a predator tracking prey.
Does she have any fucking idea what she’s doing to me? My blood is rushing south so fast it’s getting hard to think straight.
Her red hair hangs loose down her back and around her shoulders. It catches the firelight, transforming into liquid copper that I suddenly want to wrap around my fist while I kiss that uncertain expression off her face.
Fuck, she’s a vision—all soft curves and wide, innocent eyes that somehow still manage to challenge me.
“If I win,” I finally answer, blowing a smoke ring toward the ceiling, “I get to ask you three questions. And you answer with complete honesty.”
Her eyebrows knit together, confusion clear on her face. “That’s all?”
“That’s all,” I confirm, taking another sip of whiskey. The burn matches the heat coiling in my gut.
Alina’s eyes drop to the chess set between us. Her fingers reach out hesitantly, hovering over a pawn as if she might touch it, then withdraw.
“I have one condition,” she counters, surprising me with her boldness. “No questions about Sabrina or my family. That’s off-limits.”
Interesting. Is she protecting the sister who abandoned her without a second thought? If so, I almost admire the loyalty, despite knowing it’s misplaced. Or maybe there’s another reason.
“Fine,” I agree, extending my hand to seal the deal. “Three questions, none about your sister.”
“Or my family at all,” she corrects.
I can’t help smirking at that. “Good girl,” I murmur. “Always make sure you set the expectations straight before entering into a deal.” If she notices that I never agreed to her correction, she doesn’t let on.
“Especially when it’s with the devil,” she mumbles as she slides her hand into mine, small and soft against my palm.
I engulf her fingers completely, feeling the slight tremor she tries to hide. The contact sends a jolt of heat through me. “Especially then.” I hold on a second too long before releasing her.
Placing the cigar in the ashtray, I pour more whiskey for us both and slide the glass back to her. “To our first game,” I toast, raising my glass.
She mimics me, then takes a sip. The alcohol hits her immediately; she coughs, her eyes watering as she tries to maintain composure. The blush that spreads across her cheeks and down her neck makes me wonder how far it extends beneath my shirt.
“Are you ready to learn?” I ask, my voice gravelly.
“Yes.”
“Each piece moves differently.” I point to the pawns. “The pawn moves forward one square, except on its first move when it can advance two squares. It captures diagonally, one square at a time.”
I demonstrate with one of the black pawns, moving it across the board before returning it to its starting position. She watches intently, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“The rook moves horizontally and vertically, as many squares as it wants. The bishop moves diagonally.” I continue explaining each piece, showing her the possible movements. “The queen isthe most powerful piece, combining the movements of both the rook and bishop.”
“What about the king?” Alina asks, her eyes following the movement of my hands.
“Vulnerable,” I reply. “He can only move one square at a time. The entire game revolves around protecting him.”
Her lips part slightly as she processes this. I’m struck by their fullness, the lower one plumper than the top. What would they taste like? Feel like against mine? I shake the thought away.
“And the knight?” She reaches out to touch the horse-shaped piece.
“The knight moves in an L-shape—two squares horizontally then one vertically, or two vertically then one horizontally. It’s the only piece that can jump over others.”
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I track the movement, imagining how that tongue would feel against mine, against my skin, wrapped around my…
“Okay,” she breathes. “Let the game begin.”
