Checkmate

by Elyce de Reefe

  He groaned and she let out a little gasp.

  “Hold on to the counter, Millie.”

  He located and unzipped the side zipper of her skirt and let it drop down her legs. “Step out.”

  She bit her lip again, but complied.

  Marten kicked the skirt aside and felt his body go molten. She was wearing some kind of platform sandals with straps around the ankles that made her legs look fantastic in that position—like an old-fashioned pinup girl—and black lacy panties over her beautiful, generous ass. Marten sucked in his breath.

  Holy Maiden, mother of us all. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.

  He ran his hands up the back of her legs to those panties, cupping her bottom over them before slipping them inside to touch her bare skin. Silky, satiny, warm flesh. The scent of her arousal suddenly flooded his senses. He drew it in. Heaven.

  Leaning forward, he enclosed her with his body, wrapping his arms around hers and pressing his cheek against her silky one. “You’re beautiful, Millie Griffin, do you know that?”

  Wide, startled green-brown eyes met his in the mirror. She gave a tiny shake of her head. He gazed at her, taking in her soft, oval face, large beautiful eyes, her small, delicate, perfect mouth.

  “You are. And I’m going to show you.”

  He let his claws come out and shredded her panties. It was a shame to destroy such beautiful things, but something had to be torn.

  “This is going to be quick, but when I get you home, I’m going to take my time with you.”

  Millie felt a wave of heat race down her spine at the rough timbre of his words, his breath tickling the back of her neck. It was like one of her fantasies come to life— only better. She never could have imagined anything quite like this. She couldn’t even believe she was doing this. She should not be doing this. She knew that. But she also knew that she would never have a chance like this again. Nothing remotely like this had ever happened in the past thirty-one years of her existence, and given her awkwardness around people—yeah—it was not likely to happen in her future.

  And he was making it so easy. Telling her exactly what to do. There was no worrying or wondering if she was doing it right because, Lord knew, she had absolutely no experience with this type of thing.

  Oddly enough, the combination of his harsh voice and his tender, almost reverent touch was really doing it for her. Who knew? Not the mention the way he managed to be commanding without crossing over into dick territory. Did they teach that? Although the panties thing, she wasn’t so wild about. She had really liked that pair. But she could sacrifice one pair of panties—

  Millie, you are being way too cerebral for the occasion. Can you please just try to be in the moment, for once?

  She glanced at herself in the mirror and had to admit, she looked almost sexy with her boobs all pressed together in her push-up bra— that she was only wearing because she was low on laundry… Okay, enough, Millie.

  Marten leaned away from her slightly, his hands going to his belt, and she felt a little jolt of fear. Was she really doing this? Then he was back, the warm skin of his thighs pressed all along the back of her legs, the scratchy little hairs igniting tingles of awareness racing up her thighs. Shivers exploded all down her body—and, oooh… holy shit. That was amazing.

  She was definitely doing this.

  He used his knees to spread her legs apart, and then the hot head of his penis was probing at her entrance—

  Condom! she thought wildly, but he pressed down on her back with one hand, bending her over and sending a bolt of anticipation through her belly. The other hand came around to touch lightly between her legs as he slowly pressed into her, and the delicious hardness, the wonderful heat of him was so good that everything else flew right out of her head.

  He pushed into her, once, twice, and then again. Deep ripples of pleasure washed over her with every movement of his body, slow rhythmic thrusts building in intensity, swamping her in sensation, each movement building it higher and higher—impossibly fast—and suddenly she was coming. Just like that, glorious waves of pleasure washing over her. This had never happened before.

  Marten grunted, his mouth close to her ear, his breath tickling her neck as his thrusts became stronger, faster, and somehow, the sensation just continued, ebbing slightly, and then building again with the intensity of his thrusts—which had also never happened before.

  His lips found her neck, licking a trail down to the juncture of her shoulder and biting down on the muscle there, holding her in place like a lion taking his mate, as his pace got even faster. She was panting now, building to something frantic, something she thought might be unattainable. He had one hand braced against the counter and the other anchoring her to him, his fingers still stroking her. He grunted and bit down, hard. Searing pain lanced through her, racing out from her neck. She gave a strangled sort of shriek and then exploded into orgasm more intense than she’d ever experienced, the pain morphing into pleasure, racing back along her nerve endings straight to her center, and then exploding outward again. She shook with the intensity of the sensations surging through her, her body trembling, and she was vaguely aware that she was panting and moaning, too.

  Marten finally released her shoulder and roared out a guttural shout like nothing she’d ever heard. It sounded like it had been wrenched from the bottom of his soul. And then he stilled, settling down around her, still holding her to him with one arm around the belly. Her arms gave out and she collapsed toward the vanity. Marten slapped a hand down into the sink at the last minute, keeping them from crashing headfirst onto the counter, his body warm and heavy against her back.

  They swayed there like that for a moment, panting, eyes closed—at least her eyes were closed—and then slowly he pulled them back to standing, slipping out of her in the process, warm wetness trickling down her leg.

  She met his gaze in the mirror, feeling dazed. Tiny electrical shocks were still going off all over her body, pinging along the nerve endings all along her skin, making it feel tight and tingly.

  He smiled at her. A warm, tender smile that softened his whole handsome bad-boy face and made her belly feel squishy.

  “You bit me!” It came out more like a squeak than actual words, but the disbelief in her voice said it all. At least she hoped so. Who does that?

  “Mmmm,” was his response. Both arms tightened around her, pulling her back against him. “Had to.” He nuzzled his cheek against her hair, kissing her temple.

  “What?” He had to? What in the world? He didn’t look in any way chagrined about it. In fact, as far as she could tell, he looked completely satisfied. Of course he’s satisfied. He just had completely raunchy, insanely hot, unprotected bathroom sex. What more could a bad boy want? She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. Why had she thought this was a good idea?

  “We didn’t use a condom.” Her voice was breathy and tentative, but at least it sounded more like words.

  “No,” he agreed.

  Just that. No, oops. No, I’m sorry.

  She waited for more, but he just continued to nuzzle her cheek and hold her to him like nothing was wrong. It felt unbelievably good, especially since her knees seemed a little weak. Maybe if she really was the kind of girl men wanted to have crazy bathroom sex with, she wouldn’t care about that. But she wasn’t. And she did.

  In the mirror, she could see that his eyes were still closed. He had a peaceful, almost beatific expression on his face. He seemed to be inhaling her hair, almost as if he were smelling a flower. Her sweater had fallen off, freeing her arms, and she stood there in front of him in only her bra. Her cheeks were pink and glowing, her hair disheveled, and the dark triangle of her pubic hair was just visible in the mirror above the vanity. With him standing behind her, still almost completely dressed, his broad frame made her look curvy and feminine. And she had to admit she did look kind of sexy. Maybe. Is this what men like? What he likes?

  Could it be? She’d always thought a guy like Marten wou
ld want someone, well, with a lot more style. A lot more natural sex appeal. But he looked… pretty contented. Let’s not get carried away here, Millie. Sexy bad boys like Marten don’t get involved with mousy girls like you. Shy, awkward girls who could barely string two sentences together without stammering.

  She closed her eyes and gave her head a little shake. Concentrate here, Millie. You just had totally hot, unprotected sex with a complete stranger. She tried to pull out of his hold, but he didn’t release her. His eyes popped open and met hers in the mirror.

  “I could be pregnant.” The words just blurted out of her. She felt her stomach tighten with nerves, waiting for his reaction.

  He inhaled, looking completely unperturbed. Of course he’s not pregnant.

  “I don’t think so. Not yet.”

  “Not yet?”

  He didn’t even wince at her shriek. He just smiled— she would almost say, fondly.

  “Come on. Let’s get you home.” His hands came up to cup her breasts. “I want to take my time with you.” He squeezed gently, and she felt an answering tug deep in her belly. “Give these the attention they deserve. And I want to taste you.”

  His intense gaze met hers in the mirror, smoldering with passion. Her stomach did a little dip. Apparently this was not going to be just a quickie in the bathroom. Millie swallowed, wondering just what she’d signed up for.

  “If I’m pregnant, I expect you to pay child support.” It didn’t come out nearly as firmly as she was going for. In fact, it was almost a whisper.

  But he just shrugged one shoulder. Shrugged!

  “Whatever you want.”

  This man could not be for real. This wasn’t the way men reacted to this type of thing. Right? Not that she really thought she was pregnant; she’d just finished her period, but still…

  He handed her shirt to her and helped her slip it over her head. Then he retrieved her skirt and steadied her while she slipped it on with shaky hands. Then he picked up her shredded panties and put them in his pocket. She had to push him out the door so that she could clean up in one of the stalls before they went out into the street. Thank God it was Friday night and the whole building was practically deserted, because they had not been quiet. At all.

  She washed her hands and slipped on her sweater, going back toward reception. As she collected her things, she picked up the chocolates, but he pulled them out of her hand.

  “Leave them.”

  “But… you gave them to me.”

  He gave her an unreadable look. “They’ve served their purpose.”

  He flipped them toward the trash can. She watched the box sail through the air before landing flat across the end of the rectangular trash can without falling in. She opened her mouth, but he grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the office. Just before they reached the door, he stopped, looking down at her. Dropping her hand, and his briefcase, he took the neck of her shirt in both hands and ripped it.

  “Better.” He nodded to himself.

  She stood there for a moment, mouth opening and closing. “What?”

  “Tradition,” he said shortly, and pulled her out the door.

  Chapter 14

  An Isolated Pawn is a pawn that doesn’t have a pawn of the same color in the column next to it. Any piece placed directly in front of the pawn can not only block its progress, but cannot be driven away by other pawns. However, in the middle game, Isolated Pawns can lead to more freedom of movement. Games that start with an Isolated Queen’s Pawn lead to very distinctive middle game strategies.

  — From the Journals of Aster Ardennes

  Jesse stared at the sign on the door to the office suite and rubbed his jaw. He pulled out his phone, seeking instruction. He’d learned his lesson. He glanced sideways to Boaz, who seemed unusually alert.

  Lucas answered on the first ring.

  “We traced him back to an office building. One office suite in particular, S.T.P. Incorporated. But he’s not here anymore. And… he didn’t leave alone. Lucas, based on scent alone, I’d say…” He paused, trying to figure out the logistics of something like that, and then just gave up and said it. “He went into that office un-mated. But he came out with a mate.”

  “What? Not Aster, Dean said—”

  “No,” Jesse cut him off. “Not Aster. A human. A really… fertile human.”

  The smell of her— it was outrageous. Like ambrosia of the mind. Jesse’s senses were reeling. And he could see Boaz was affected too. Only, Boaz seemed more interested in a different scent.

  “There’s more. There’s a second female. Also human, and she smells… Well, it’s hard to describe. But it’s powerful. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I can only guess these women have been exposed to that serum Aster and I found. And it’s working.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Follow them. From a distance. Don’t engage. Don’t let them know you’re there. I want to know what Marten’s up to.”

  “Well, um, that’s the thing. The two scents don’t go in the same direction. In fact, one of the women left hours before Marten and…” Jesse paused, but there was really nothing else to call her. “… his new mate.”

  On the other end of the line, he heard Lucas blow out a loud breath. “So Marten is using this serum on humans, as a way to force the bond?”

  “It would seem so, although…” Jesse scratched the back of his neck, thinking of the scents they’d come across down by the water. “Until just about an hour ago, I would say he’d been absolutely intent on mating Aster.” He winced. Shit. He probably should have phrased that better. “But with him mated, that’s not an issue anymore.”

  And from the whiff he’d picked up of Dean’s trail following Aster, that probably wasn’t an issue for her anymore either.

  “Split up and follow them both,” came Lucas’s response. “Report back as soon as you find anything.”

  Suppressing another wince, Jesse nodded even though Lucas couldn’t see him. “Will do. Any other instructions?”

  There was a short pause and Jesse imagined him repeating “Don’t fuck up.” But what he said was, “Thanks for checking in, Jesse.” And then Lucas cut the connection.

  Well, shit. Today was turning out to be a fabulous day.

  In the back of his mind, even after his confrontation with Lucas, he still had the idea that things might turn out differently. That, just maybe, things would work out— for once. But that had started to dwindle when he’d received Lucas’s text. And then it had crashed and burned the moment they arrived at the location of Marten’s last-known whereabouts.

  Yeah, that had been a bad moment.

  Right up until then, he’d still had hope. But he’d been kidding himself. Looking around at the disturbed ground, taking in the scents of the chase, combined with Dean’s neat pile of clothes—

  Yeah. It had become very obvious that any chance Jesse might have had, no longer existed.

  He drew in a breath. And now this.

  Boaz leaned against the hallway wall just opposite the office door. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes burned.

  “Lucas wants us to split up and follow both trails.”

  “I’ll take the female.”

  Jesse scratched his chin. He was way overdue for a shave. “Yeah, that’s the thing, Boaz. I’m not sure that’s a good idea. There’s something off about her scent. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but…”

  Boaz uncrossed his arms and pushed off the wall. “She smells fine to me.”

  Jesse forced himself to hold his ground. Boaz was big. “Yeah, well, that right there’s the problem. I’m not sure you’re the right one to go after her.”

  Boaz glared down at him in silence for a long moment. “Flip a coin.”

  Jesse shrugged. “Fine.”

  But when Boaz picked heads, and tails came up on the quarter, Jesse wasn’t so sure he’d won. The last thing he wanted right now was another head-on collision with a honey trap.

  ** *<
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  Dean loped along the mossy bank of the tributary, following the scent of orange blossoms and honey laced with just a hint of clove. Aster always did have the most amazing scent, and right now she smelled better than ever. She was tired, but Dean was determined they would have a good run. It was already six days past the new moon, and a good mating run could make all the difference in developing a strong bond. And a strong bond was essential. He’d been waiting to claim his mate for a long time. He needed to make sure Aster knew she was his.

  A feeling of satisfaction settled over him. This was not the way he would have chosen for things to unfold, but he couldn’t argue with the results. He’d always known he and Aster belonged together, and now she would finally have to see that too.

  Birds scuttled in the ferns and undergrowth alongside the path and flitted through the trees above. Tree frogs trilled and croaked their boisterous serenade, and the golden light of late evening slanted through gaps in the trees. Up ahead, he could just make out Aster’s lithe form slipping through the underbrush along the riverbank.

  He’d have to make his move soon, before this tributary emptied into the river. He wanted more privacy than that. It was amazing how removed from civilization they were here. The surrounding suburbs were completely hidden behind an impenetrable barrier of riparian growth. The sounds and smells of the city seemed faint and far away.

  Which was good, because the soothing sounds of nature were helping to cool his temper. The furious, cold anger he’d experienced seeing Marten literally lying on top of Aster. He’d offered to come down. Offered to help her. But no. She had to do everything by herself. And it had nearly cost her everything. And him too.

  Up ahead, he heard a soft grunt of pain. He increased his speed and rounded a bend in the water to find Aster facing him, rubbing her knee. It looked like she had just recovered from tripping over a tree root.

  “Okay, enough, Dean. I’m done playing this little game of yours.”