Checkmate

by Kris Norris

“Faster Dawson, please. I need…”

  Her words disintegrated into a husky moan as he pounded into her, retreating to the edge of her swollen flesh, leaving only his flared head lodged in her entrance, before powering in again, filling her to the hilt with his thick shaft. Her teeth clamped around his shoulder, marking his skin, stilling the scream he heard building in her chest. She met each thrust, rotating and arching, angling her hips for deeper penetration. Again and again he pulsed, faster, harder, deeper with each stroke until the tingling on his spine erupted, smothering his senses.

  He lost control, driving into her like a man possessed. He held her hips, sealing himself against her, his motion a hazy blur until the world shifted and darkened, and he came inside her, feeling their flesh merge into one. His body went rigid, his muscles cording as spurt after spurt of his release spewed into her, coating her inner walls with his hot jets. Her heart was beating with his, her breath warm on his neck, when he collapsed onto his elbows, trying to bridge his weight. His body was slick with sweat, his arms shaking with fatigue as he rested his forehead on hers, trying to catch his breath.

  She whispered his name, a sound so soft and low he wasn’t even sure she’d spoken. He was drifting, dissolving into the darkness, fading like the setting sun.

  “Kendall.”

  Dawson opened his eyes, focusing on the ceiling. The room was silent, the air heavy and damp. He reached beside him, expecting to find Kendall’s naked body curled up in the sheets, but found only cold emptiness.

  He bolted upright, searching the room. His clothes were slung across the back of the chair, his gun positioned on the table beside the bed. The door was ajar, but nothing suggested she’d been to his room, or shared his bed. He cursed, flinging the blankets aside as he strode to the window, watching the dawn crease the horizon. What the hell was wrong with him? This went way beyond the harmless images he’d created the other day. While he’d had erotic dreams before, they were never so vivid, so real, he couldn’t tell where reality stopped and his fantasy began. And never involving a woman he’d sworn to protect.

  He raked his fingers through his hair. What was it about Kendall that dissolved his reason, made him want to break the rules just to ease her pain? Was it just the connection he felt to her because of his similar experience? Or was it something else? Something deeper? He’d come to realize his decision to train with her hadn’t been impulsive, or a simple act of compassion. He wanted to help her, needed to. He sighed, wondering how far he’d go to keep his promise. What if they didn’t find Garrick before the deadline? Would he race with her knowing the chances of saving Trace were remote? That the price of victory might be more than either of them was willing to pay?

  He turned and headed for the shower. He needed to cool off, still the feelings rushing through him. Ease the ache between his legs. Damn, he was still hard, and he had a bad feeling he’d stay that way until the job was over…or until he’d taken Kendall into his bed.

  * * * *

  Kendall sat on the rocks, staring out across the vineyard. They were resting on the crest of an adjacent hill, and the view across her land was breathtaking. She could see the neat rows of vines, their bright green hue vibrant in the late day sun. On the far side loomed the outline of the winery, a mass of white amidst the landscape. On any other day Trace would be in there, obsessing over every detail, ensuring the wine met his stringent specifications.

  She looked away, not able to bear the thoughts that flashed through her head. Garrick, larger than life, standing over Trace, evil glittering in his eyes. She could see the charismatic smile touching his lips, an absurd contrast to the insanity lurking beneath his skin. And in the shadows was Trace, beaten, bloody…dead.

  He’s not dead, dammit! Stop thinking like that!

  She wanted to, but every time she closed her eyes, the image was there. His face pale amidst the darkness, his blood, the color of aged wine, pooled around his body, so thick she could taste the pungent aroma on her tongue.

  She shook her head, hoping to erase the haunting picture still lingering in her thoughts. She glanced over at Dawson. He was standing off to her right, one leg bent against a large boulder, his arm bracing some of his weight. His hair was damp against his neck, and his skin glistened in the sun. He’d dressed in shorts and a muscle shirt in hopes of combating the heat, and the lack of clothing only increased his sex appeal. It was the first time she’d gotten a glimpse of the body she knew hid beneath his cotton shirts and worn jeans. His arms were well muscled, but not bulging. They looked strong, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it’d feel like to have them hold her, pin her to the bed as he made love to her.

  She shuddered, turning her gaze away. What the hell was she thinking? He was here to find Trace, not to occupy her bed. And she doubted he’d want to anyway. Lord knows she wasn’t known for being an object men lusted after, though she wasn’t certain why. She considered herself attractive, and could hold her own in just about any circumstance.

  I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact you’re cold, and never let anyone get close to you.

  She growled, hating that taunting voice that always had an answer…the right answer. But she didn’t want to act that way toward Dawson. Everything about him warmed her, made her want to draw him closer. She looked back over at him. He was staring down at the vineyard, his chest moving in a steady rhythm. He was chewing on the last of a fruit bar, his neck cording with the simple motion. She watched as he tucked the paper inside a small pocket. He hadn’t turn to look at her, even though she knew he felt her gaze on him.

  She frowned. His behavior was different today. He seemed on edge, as if her presence made him self-conscious of something. It was almost as if he’d tried to get closer to her, yet distance himself at the same time. She’d thought it was because he’d heard her screaming this morning.

  She’d spent most of the night waiting for sleep to claim her only to awaken an hour later plagued by nightmares of Garrick. She’d expected Dawson to barge through the door, gun drawn, clothes askew. But the door had remained closed, leaving her to face her demons alone. She’d glanced out the window. Dawn was just breaking the darkness, a desolate grey rising over the hills. It’d made her feel empty, alone. She’d cried then, and it’d taken her awhile to get back to sleep.

  “Hey, Kendall.”

  Dawson’s voice startled her, bringing her out of her thoughts. “What?”

  “You okay?”

  She forced a smile. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know, but you were staring at me with this bizarre expression on your face. I thought maybe something was wrong.”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking.”

  “About what?” he asked.

  You.

  “A few things.” She stared into his dark eyes. “You seem different today. I don’t suppose you’re hiding something from me?” Dawson flashed her a boyish smile, making her heart race and her breath catch. “Perhaps something about Trace?”

  “I haven’t found out anything new about Trace.” Dawson looked away, setting his jaw as he clenched his fists at his side. He’d spent every waking moment, other than the hours Kendall dragged him across the countryside, scrutinizing the files, and running an endless supply of names through the Bureau’s database. But to date, he’d come up empty. “Garrick’s good…too good.”

  He looked back at her over his shoulder, hoping she’d believed Garrick was the only concern on his mind. He couldn’t tell her the real reason he felt uncomfortable. After his dream, it’d been impossible to look at her without remembering the way the robe had clung to her breasts, accentuated the curve of her hips. Or how she’d tasted like sweet, summer peaches, and felt like warm honey as he’d plunged deep within her. And if that wasn’t bad enough, there’d been the incident this morning.

  He’d been drying the cold water beading his skin when he’d heard her scream. He’d thrown on his pants and charged her door, sure Garrick had
somehow breached his security, only to stop as he’d grasped the handle. He could hear her crying. The sound had been soft and distant, like rain on the window, and he knew she’d been dreaming.

  He’d waited until the room was quiet, before he’d slivered the door open. She’d been curled up on the bed, her knees pulled tight to her chest. The small, green dragon had been clutched in her hands, poised in front of her head as if it possessed some magical force, protecting her from what hid in the shadows. It’d taken all his strength to close the door…fight the urge to hold her in his arms, slay the demons she carried inside her. He wanted to love the fear away. Give her something other than Garrick to focus on. But he couldn’t. Not without crossing the line. It was a constant battle to keep his feelings in check, and seeing her like that had only heightened his need to be with her.

  “It’s okay, Dawson, it’s not your fault. A number of agencies have been hunting the bastard for thirty years. If he wasn’t a genius at hiding everything, he’d have already been stopped.”

  Dawson sighed. She was giving him a way out, an excuse to save his male ego. But it wasn’t enough. He needed to stop the man before he hurt Kendall any more than he already had. He needed to save her. “I won’t let him hurt you, Kendall…or Trace. We’ll get your brother back.”

  Kendall smiled at his simple vow. Not a forced one, but a true smile that lit up her entire face. “Come on. I’ve kept you out here long enough. I’ll take you home.”

  She rose and walked over to his side, touching his hand. Her fingers were warm and comforting, and made him long to feel them grazed against his skin, stroking over his cock until he cried out her name. He’d done all the touching in his dream, and he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what it’d feel like to have her taste him. To watch her lips stretch around his flared head, sliding down his length until the tip pulsed against the back of her throat. To see her eyes darken with pleasure as she sucked him to completion, his sperm coating her tongue in a series of spurts. It was almost too much to hope for.

  Dawson tightened his grip, pulling her back as she turned to leave. “I won’t let you down.”

  Kendall straightened her shoulders and firmed her stance, staring him in the eyes. “I haven’t known you for very long. But if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that you don’t let people down.” She skimmed her fingers across his face, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “Now come on, before one of us passes out from lack of food. I’m famished.”

  Dawson smiled and followed her down the rocky path, watching her body move with grace and elegance. She’d moved that way in his dream, and he wondered how he’d make it through another restless night.

  Chapter Eight

  “You know, if we keep going at this pace, you’ll kill me before the two weeks are up.” Dawson leaned against the porch, catching his breath.

  “I doubt you’re that easy to get rid of, but the thought is tempting.” Kendall flashed him a cunning smile.

  He laughed. “I’m sure that’s been your plan all along,” he countered. His phone rang. “Dawson.” He paused as a voice spoke on the other end. “No, that’s fine. Send them around back.” He grinned at her. “Seems your partners in crime are here. They were worried I had you hog tied in the shed, and tried to break through security.”

  “I hardly think Jody and Logan are capable of outsmarting you, though it’s comforting to know they at least thought to try.”

  Dawson smiled as Jody and Logan appeared around the far corner of the house. They waved when they caught sight of Kendall and ran across the grass.

  “It’s about time you two showed up,” Kendall scolded, bracing herself as Jody wrapped her arms around her, knocking her back.

  “We didn’t want to come over until you’d had some time to deal with the situation,” said Jody, still hugging Kendall. “Besides, we weren’t even sure the Feds would let us through the gate.”

  “Security’s pretty tight,” added Logan.

  “So how have you two been?” asked Kendall.

  “Worried!” said Jody, releasing her death grip. “You should’ve called us. Just to say you were okay.”

  “Sorry. I guess I’ve had a lot on my mind.” She stepped over to Dawson’s side. “You guys remember Dawson, right?”

  “The agent from the parking lot.” Logan held out his hand. “I suppose you’re the one in charge of the investigation?”

  “I’m trying to find some answers.” Dawson turned to Kendall. “Am I released from your torture for the day?”

  Kendall nodded. “I think you’ve endured enough punishment for now. But we’ll pick it up first thing in the morning.”

  “I can hardly wait.” Dawson turned to go when Logan stopped him.

  “What’s going on? That’s Trace’s bike. Have you found him?”

  “No. I’ve been borrowing it to keep up with Xena, Warrior Princess. Seems she’s determined to continue her training, danger or not.”

  “Sounds like her,” teased Jody. “So, has Conner been around?”

  Kendall tensed. The last thing she needed was Jody worrying about her love life as well as her sanity. “No, he hasn’t been by.” Her tone was casual, too casual, and she could tell by Jody’s glare her friend had no intentions of leaving the issue alone.

  “Come on, Kendall. I realize you guys want to keep your relationship low key, but now’s not the time to worry about that. Hell, you’re engaged to the man and I’ve only met him twice!” Jody drew herself up and planted her hands on her hips. “Screw his damn protocol. You need someone to lean on right now. Doesn’t he understand that?”

  “He might, if I’d told him about Trace.”

  “You haven’t told him,” scolded Jody. “Why not?”

  “Because I broke it off over a month ago.” Kendall crossed her arms in front of her chest. There was no sense hiding the truth any longer, not when she knew Jody would keep hounding her until she was satisfied with an answer. “He’s the last person I need to see right now.”

  “You broke it off, but why? I thought you loved him?”

  Kendall could feel Dawson’s gaze on her, waiting to gage her response. “I broke it off because I found him in bed with his physiotherapist. Seems riding him like a stallion was her way of guiding him through some special exercises.” She paused, lowering her gaze. “Besides, it wouldn’t have worked out. It was never about love.”

  “You should’ve told us,” said Logan. “We’re supposed to be your friends, remember? How can we help you get through this kind of stuff if you never confide in us? It’s like you don’t trust us.”

  “It had nothing to do with my trust in you, Logan. It wasn’t exactly flattering to find him with someone else, let alone admit it to you.” She sighed. “And I doubt it was the first time.”

  Jody put her arm around her. “Hey, it’s his loss. Besides, you deserve way better than him. He just didn’t understand your unique personality.”

  “Is that your way of saying I’m difficult?” she asked as Jody smiled at her. “Look, Conner is the least of my worries, but this is why I didn’t tell you. You would’ve spent all your time coddling me instead of focusing on the race, and you know how Trace is about…” She stopped, tears building behind her dark lashes.

  Dawson moved in behind her, taking her hand in his. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” she lied, squeezing his fingers.

  “Logan? Would you please go in and get us some drinks?” asked Jody.

  “Sure.” Logan smiled and brushed his thumb across Kendall’s cheek before heading for the house.

  “That’s not necessary, Jody. I’m fine.”

  “Of course you are. I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

  Dawson chuckled. “See, Kendall. I’m not the only one who knows how to read between the lines.” His phone rang. “Dawson… Hey Charlie, just hang on a second.” He turned to Jody and Kendall. “Excuse me ladies, I need to take this.” He walked away.

  “Damn,
” said Jody, “he’s gorgeous!”

  “You think?” said Kendall, trying to feign disinterest as she watched him walk over to the tree where he’d taken their picture that first night. He’d fallen in the river twice today, and the clothes he’d borrowed from Trace were still damp, clinging to every inch of his strong, lean body.

  Jody looked at her. “You’re kidding, right? Or haven’t you bothered to look at him? The way his dark hair teases his eyes, and shoulders to spare! He’s like a guy on the cover of one of those romance novels.”

  Kendall smiled at her. “He’s attractive.”

  “Attractive? Kendall you’re…” She stopped, a sly smile curving her lips. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

  Kendall glanced at her, more than aware of the knowing tone in her voice. “What are you saying, Jody?”

  “Nothing. Just because you look like you could eat Dawson in one bite doesn’t suggest you’re interested, or anything. Besides, you need someone strong…determined. You know, someone who can match your mood swings, but still sweep you off your feet.” Jody smiled at her. “I’m sure he doesn’t fit the bill.”

  “He’s here because it’s his job.”

  “Of course.” Jody grabbed her arm. “Let’s go inside. Logan should have the drinks ready by now.”

  “Logan wouldn’t be too pleased to hear you talking about Dawson like that.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing Logan didn’t hear me then.”

  * * * *

  “Where is she?” asked Dawson.

  Jody stilled before stepping out of Logan’s embrace. “She just went upstairs to take a shower.” She glanced at Logan. “Everything okay, Agent Dawson?”

  “Picture perfect,” he rasped. “It was nice of you to visit, but I need to discuss something with Kendall. I think it’d be best if you both left.”

  “I’m not sure that’s in Kendall’s best interest,” said Logan. “You look agitated.”

  “Thanks for stopping by. I’m sure Kendall appreciated the support.” He walked past them. “I’ve informed the gate officer to expect you. He’s not a patient man, if you know what I mean.” He headed for the stairs.