Checkmate

by Kris Norris

  “I’m sure you’re right,” said Trace. “It’s just…”

  “Garrick was the mastermind,” said Dawson. “Even if Logan is still alive, I doubt he’d have the gumption to do anything on his own. After all, it was Garrick’s agenda.”

  I had my own motivations for helping Garrick. Would you like to know what they are... I think you’ll find my reasoning quite convincing.

  Kendall frowned, remembering Logan’s words. He’d shared Garrick’s hatred, and seemed determined to exact his own revenge.

  “Hey. You okay?” asked Dawson, stroking his fingers along the crease in her brow.

  “Sure.” She forced a smile.

  “You’ve got that look again,” he insisted.

  “What look?”

  “The same look you had the last time we were in the hospital and you were thinking about Garrick. What’s up?”

  “Nothing.” She saw the knowing gleam in his eyes. “It’s just, Logan seemed pretty bitter. I don’t think he was helping Garrick just because he was his son. He blames me for the death of our mother.” She looked away.

  “You were only six years old, Kendall. How were you responsible?” asked Mitchell.

  Kendall glanced back, hoping she could keep the tears at bay. “Logan said she’d planned it out with Garrick. That she wanted to be with them. The only reason she died was because I got out to go search for my dragon, and Trace followed.” She looked at her brother. “Dad must have locked the car doors when he jumped out to follow us, and trapped her in the car. I tripped the bomb when I reopened the front door. We were supposed to die that day, not her.”

  “Even if that’s true, it wasn’t your fault, Kendall,” said Trace, reaching over to wipe a tear from her cheek. “And Logan only knows what Garrick told him. In a way he was a victim too, just under different circumstances.”

  Dawson gave her a squeeze. “Come on, it’s over. I’ve got Garrick under lock and key, even the roof and windows are being guarded. He’ll be transferred by the end of the week, and spend the rest of his life far away from you.” He kissed her forehead. “And I’ll keep the file on Logan open, just so I can run his prints and stats through Interpol every once and a while. Nothing will get by me, I promise.”

  “I know.” She smiled at him. “Okay, so when can we go home?”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  June 4th

  Dawson pulled up to the house, once again taken by the charming appearance, only this time it seemed less cold—like it’d somehow become a home instead of just a house. He turned to Kendall. “This is awfully déjà vu.”

  “I think we’ve done this a few times.” She opened the door, stepping onto the driveway. “Are you going to insist on carrying me again?”

  She laughed as he swept her up in his arms. “Of course. This is our first time over the threshold as lovers. There’s a certain amount of ceremony involved.” He bounded up the stairs and across the porch, opening the door wide as he carried her through.

  “Hey, Mitchell,” said Trace. “This is the second time we’ve done this. How come you haven’t carried me?”

  Mitchell laughed. “If you looked like her, maybe I would.” He stepped inside. “I’ll do one last sweep of the house, just to ease my conscience.”

  “Suit yourself,” replied Trace heading for the kitchen. “Hey, Dawson, you want some coffee?”

  “Sure. I’ll just help your sister to bed, and I’ll be right down.”

  “What do you mean ‘help me to bed’?” snorted Kendall. “It’s not even noon. I don’t need a nap.”

  “Have you forgotten what the doctor said? You promised to stay in bed for a couple of days if he allowed you to come home early.” He headed for the stairs, still holding her in his arms. “And if you want Jody to come by for a visit later, you’ll do as I say.”

  “That sounds a lot like blackmail again, my love.”

  Dawson laughed, loving the playful gleam in her eyes. “That’s because it is blackmail.” He started up the stairs. “How was Jody doing when you talked to her this morning?”

  Kendall sighed, a hint of guilt washing across her expression. “She still blames herself for Logan’s involvement, though I reminded her I was the one to introduce them.”

  “Logan knew how to manipulate people. He would’ve gotten all the information he needed even if he and Jody hadn’t been lovers. Though I’m sure the situation made it easier for him to keep tabs on you and Trace.” He crested the stairs and headed for her door. “But it wasn’t her fault, anymore than it was yours.”

  Kendall smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Maybe not. But it’s going to take something extra special to shake Jody out of her depression.” Kendall giggled. “And I know just the man for the job.”

  “Man?”

  “Logan was kind enough to tell me that Jody had been trying to get Trace’s attention before Logan got involved with her. Since Trace is sidelined for a few months I thought maybe Jody could help keep him in shape, if you know what I mean.”

  Dawson laughed, stopping at the door. “Remind me never to get on your bad side, darling. I have a feeling you’d be a dangerous enemy.”

  Kendall slapped him on the shoulder as he whisked her inside. “What’s all this?” he asked, gazing around the room. Everything had changed. In place of the plain, double bed was an oversized king, brimming with pillows and soft, fluffy blankets. There were matching dressers across one wall, and a new leather love seat beside the bathroom door. He walked in, drawn to the picture hanging opposite the bed. “Is that the picture I took of us that first night?”

  “I had Mitchell enlarge it for me. I think it turned out quite nice.” She smiled. “I thought it was kind of nostalgic. After all, you did ask me to smile like I was in love with you.” She traced her finger across his face. “At the time, I didn’t know what you meant. But I don’t think I’d have any trouble smiling like that now…not for you.”

  “I knew I was in trouble the moment you draped your body across mine. It was as if you belonged with me from the start. I can’t tell you how happy I was when you told me Conner was out of the picture, though I doubt I would’ve minded stealing you away from him.” He smiled at her. “But why the change?”

  “This place was never a home to us until Garrick threatened to take it away. Besides, I was hoping the change in scenery might make you want to spend more time here.”

  “Have you seen my place?” he asked.

  “That’s not what I mean. I want you to feel like it’s yours, not just mine.” She held his stare as he placed her on the bed. “I want you in my life, Dawson, not just in my bed.”

  “I got that feeling when you told me you loved me.” He touched her on the face. The swelling had lessened, but her right side was still shaded in purple. “And I hope you got the same impression when I told you, I loved you too.” He moved closer. “The new Director is insisting Mitchell and I take a week or two off. Perhaps I could spend it here, making sure you stay in our bed.”

  Kendall wrapped her arms around his neck, a wide grin on her face. “As long as you stay in our bed with me, I think that’s a great idea. After all, you do have a promise to keep.”

  “I thought I fulfilled that promise already. As I recall, we made love twice that night.”

  “The second time doesn’t count, since I virtually pleasured myself.”

  Dawson groaned, feeling his cock peak with interest. “And an excellent job you did of it.” He rolled her back on the bed. “I don’t suppose you plan on repeating it for me…right now?”

  “You could persuade me, once you’ve kept your promise.”

  “That almost sounds like blackmail, darling.”

  A mischievous sparkle lit up her eyes. “Call it what you will. That’s my condition.”

  He laughed and gazed around the room. “You know, we’ve tried this three times, and yet, we still haven’t managed to make love here.”

  Kendall laughed, pulling his cell phone out
of his pocket. She turned it off and flung it across the room. “Problem one taken care of. Now all we have to do is ignore Mitchell, and we should be okay.”

  “He does have a knack for interrupting.” Dawson removed her shirt and trailed his fingers down her body. “Are you sure you’re up to this? It hasn’t been that long.” He kissed the cut Garrick had sliced across her collarbone. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I might not be up for a race, but I think I can handle this. Though the other night was a bit overwhelming.”

  “That was just a taste of what’s to come, my love,” he whispered.

  She touched her finger to his lips, moaning as he drew it inside his mouth. “And I know you’d never hurt me, Dawson.”

  “Never.” He grabbed the cuffs of her pants and pulled them down, taking her panties with them, smiling at the sight of her naked. “But if you’re worried, I could take it easy on you.”

  “Oh no you don’t,” she countered, removing his clothes a piece at a time. “No walls, no holding back, no shame. You said you’d give me all of you, remember?”

  “I believe I already have, but I’d be happy to show you again.” He kissed her, long and deep, feeling the desire in her touch. “As many times as you need.”

  “I’ll try to be reasonable.”

  “No you won’t,” he teased, holding her close. “But that’s one of the things I love most about you.” He inched his fingers up her inner thigh, sliding them between her velvety lips. God, she was so wet he couldn’t halt the involuntary action that drew his hand to his mouth, sucking her arousal from his fingers with a low rumble. He met her heated gaze. Her eyes were heavy lidded, her lips parted in anticipation. He moved his hand back to her moist slit. “Now let me show you what else I love about you.”

  He slid his fingers down her crease again, plunging them inside her tight channel. He felt her hands go to his shoulders, her nails bite into his skin. She arched closer to him, spreading her legs as he bent down to lap at her silken lips, circling her swollen clit before driving his tongue into her vagina. She clenched on his tongue, as if wanting to hold it captive within her, spearing her fingers through his hair, urging him to continue, to give her more.

  He moved back to her nub, covering the tightly knotted nerves with a quick flick of his tongue. She tightened her grip in his hair, arching harder against his mouth. He could feel her walls starting to quiver, an indication she was already heading toward a climax. He smiled, loving how he could take her to the brink so fast.

  “Oh no, Kendall. Not yet.” He pulled back, circling his finger around her clit, watching it pulse with each gentle pass. God, he loved when she did that. “Fight it a bit longer, my love. I don’t want you to come until I’ve eaten every drop of honey from your body. You’re so sweet, Kendall. So wonderfully sweet.”

  He dipped his tongue through her slit again, suckling her clit into his mouth, milking it with his lips as he sank his fingers inside her, turning them to rub the rough patch of skin just under her pubic bone.

  Kendall cried out, the added stimulation sending her careening skyward. She was begging him now, pleading him to make her come, desperate for the release he’d built to immeasurable proportions. He hummed against her flesh, the vibration edging her closer. He wanted to take her over the edge, hear her cry as her body exploded around him, but he also wanted to draw it out. To feel his fingers lodged inside her, drink her juices as they spilled from her body. God help him, but he knew he’d never get enough of her. Never love her enough to quench the want in his heart he felt for her. And he couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

  “Dawson, please. Stop teasing me. You know what I need.”

  “I’m not teasing you, Kendall, I’m pacing myself.”

  Kendall laughed. “You’re a very wicked man, Dawson Cade.” She groaned in defeat. “Very well, I surrender. Now make me come, and let me die in your arms again.”

  Dawson relented, thrusting his fingers hard and fast, stroking her clit with his tongue, sucking the cream as it flowed into his mouth. He felt her strain, her breath lodged in her throat, a scream erupting from her chest as her womb clenched, pulsing around his fingers, arching her torso off the bed until she was cradling his head against her chest. She was chanting his name, her head thrown back as wave after wave of pleasure tore through her, weakening her body until she collapsed back on the bed. Her hands fell from his hair, her thighs relaxed, her breathing slowed. He moved over her, dropping a wet kiss across her lips.

  “What did I ever do to deserve you?” she asked.

  “That’s easy. You lowered the walls, and let me in.”

  He smiled as a tear trickled down her cheek, but the love in her eyes told him she no longer cared if it made her feel weak. He’d be there to pick up the slack. Be strong for her when she couldn’t. She nuzzled into his hand as he wiped the moisture away.

  “Lay back, my love,” she said. “And let me show you the extent of my gratitude.”

  “Ah, ah, ah,” he laughed, thwarting her attempt to straddle him, as he pushed her back against the mattress, positioning himself between her legs. “Nothing more strenuous than a walk, remember?” He nudged his flared head into her still quivering channel, pausing just long enough to kiss her again before filling her to the hilt with his erection.

  She cried out his name, clenching his hips with her legs.

  “God help me, Kendall, but if this gets any better, it will kill us both.”

  He started to move, his rhythm slow and deep, knowing the torturous buildup would leave them both screaming for release. She moved with him, meeting each thrust, drawing him deeper, rubbing him in all the right places. He could smell the heat of their passion, feel the air grow heavy with the sweat from their skin, hear the wet thrusts as he surged into her, over and over. He was drowning, and he didn’t want to come up for air.

  The door rattled.

  He stopped with just the crown lodged in her body, and glanced over his shoulder. He could hear a muted curse from the other side of the door as feet scuffled against the wood floor. He smiled, looking back at Kendall. “You have to admit, Mitchell has impeccable timing. What’s up, Mitchell?”

  He heard Mitchell thumb the handle, but then he must have reconsidered. “Hey, Dawson,” he said through the door. “Trace wanted me to tell you the coffee’s ready, if you’re still interested. And he was worried Kendall was being…difficult.”

  “Am I?” she asked, thrusting her hips up, driving his cock so deep he felt as if he’d climbed inside her.

  He moaned, feeling her flesh constrict around him, locking him in place. She was a vixen, in every sense of the word, and he knew he was a lucky man. “Very,” he replied. He turned his head toward the door. “Mitchell, tell Trace to keep it hot for me, I’ll be down in a while.”

  “A long, long while, Mitchell,” added Kendall.

  Mitchell smiled and headed back to the stairs, ignoring the heated moans of pleasure drifting through the door. He met Trace at the bottom.

  “Well?” asked Trace. “Is Kendall giving him a hard time?”

  “I don’t think Dawson is objecting to what Kendall is giving him,” he said, motioning Trace back to the kitchen. “But he did ask you to keep the coffee hot for him. And since I’m stuck here until he signs off on the investigation, we might as well sit down and relax.”

  “Are they going to be this nauseating all the time?”

  Mitchell nodded. “For a while anyway.”

  “I guess they deserve it.” Trace headed back to the kitchen. “They did go through a lot to save my ass. Hey, since we’ve got the time, do you think you could help me finish that crossword?”

  “What have you got left?” asked Mitchell.

  “I still need that five-letter word for ‘overbearing.’ ”

  Mitchell smiled. “That’s funny. I thought ‘agent’ was a good guess.”

  The End

  About the Author

  Kris sees herself as somewhat
obsessive and feels she tends to push the limits sometimes. But her friends graciously see her as passionate and adventurous. After all, speed limits are only guidelines and shouting is just her way of rising above the chaos. Besides, she thinks the air is cleaner out there on the edge.

  Kris started writing erotic stories a few years ago, but didn’t try putting them out into the real world until recently. She loves penning independent leading ladies who aren’t afraid to kick a bit of butt, especially when it only fuels the desires of their men. But of course, it wouldn’t be any fun if the men didn’t get to play... Most of her stories involve elements of suspense and quite often have a downright creepy villain lurking in the shadows. But all the better to get the hero’s protective instincts going. After all, Kris still loves having a knight ride to the rescue...

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