Copyright © 2017 by Suzanne Halliday
Checkmate – A Bishop’s Pawn Novella
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This book is meant for mature readers who are 18+.
It contains explicit language, and graphic sexual content.
ISBN: 978-1-945399-10-7
Edited by Gemma Rowlands
Book Cover Design by Sommer Stein of Perfect Pear Creative Covers
Cover Photography Sara Eirew
Formatting By Champagne Formats
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
OTHER BOOKS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This story is for everyone who liked the pantry scene.
Thank you for the laughs!
Kelly put down her mug and listened. She could hear Matty in the elevator foyer greeting their security assistant, a woman named Domineau. They were chattering in Spanish, a fact that brought a slow smile to her face. Her desire to expand Matty’s understanding of the world included learning a second language—but there was just one problem. She, Kelly Anne James, sucked the donkey dick when it came to bi-lingual capabilities. Knowing how to say, ‘Hi’ and ‘How ya’ doing’ wasn’t enough, but at least she tried.
The woman assigned to keep an eye on her and Matty was fluent in several languages. Not that she spoke to them all that much.
Matty, of course, was a damn sponge where learning of any sort was involved. He was fascinated by everything—not just some things—everything. With that in mind, they were in the best place possible for broadening a kid’s horizons.
New York City.
The Big Apple.
The City That Never Sleeps.
Gotham.
And she hated it. Hated the gray sidewalks and tall buildings obscuring her view of the sky. Hated the fast-moving people living in overcrowded isolation.
She knew her commentary didn’t make sense, but nothing about squeezing eight million people into five boroughs covering just three hundred miles made sense. If not for Matty, she was pretty sure packing it in after a week and running back to the woods would have been her preference. There was nothing for her here.
Well, maybe not nothing, because this was where Roman was, and truth be told, she couldn’t live without him.
A soft chuckle, hers, hung in the air.
How damn funny. She’d visualized all sorts of stuff over the years but never, ever had she seen her life being totally dominated by men. Little men like Matthew James and bigger men—men who challenged her with their natural command. Men like Roman and yeah, that asshat Liam Ashforth. Her other brother. The guy responsible for taking her and Matty away from their smaller, simpler, manageable life and dropping their overwhelmed asses thousands of miles from anything familiar.
“Kiki, look!’ Matty hollered with four-year-old zeal. Bounding into the kitchen at high speed, he barely checked his roll before slamming into her.
“Whatcha’ got there?” she asked with a smile.
“It’s a chess set.” The awe in his voice was pure Matty.
A woman best described as an Amazonian Warrior, due in no small part to her six-foot tall stature and fierce expression, followed close behind.
“Hope that’s all right, Ms. James. Grabbed it from the toy store.”
Grabbed it from the toy store? Jesus. Kelly barely stopped from shaking her head in disbelief. The one amusement she could count on every day was watching a bunch of serious adults jump through hoops for the benefit of a four-year-old.
She offered a half smile and shrugged. What was she supposed to do? Throw a hissy fit over a board game?
“Thanks, Domineau. That was very nice.” She gave Matty a small elbow shove. “Did you say thank you?”
The dry but very amused look he gave her was a glimpse into the future. Someday her little man was going to be quite a handful.
“Seriously?”
Kelly bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Of all the habits and quirks Matty was prone to, the ones he’d picked up recently courtesy of the Alpha Boys Club Liam and Roman had going on were the most amusing. His use of the snarky word-statement was fashioned entirely after those two.
“Got the appropriate thanks,” Domineau interjected. “No fist bumps as requested.”
It would be funny if not for the fact that Kelly had the finesse of a prison warden where manners were concerned. Proper manners—not whatever the hell passed for social behavior these days. Manners that included the art of the handshake, eye contact, and real words. Not grunts, fist bumps, and Instagram posts.
Matthew Liam James was going to grow up a gentleman if it fucking killed her.
“Headed to Washington Square Park. Check out today’s chess games. Mr. Bishop arranged a car.”
Domineau wasn’t known for complete sentences. Her clipped, matter-of-fact delivery sounded like a surveillance report. She had a distinct style of speaking. Very militaresque—a word Kelly just made up that fit extremely well.
How did this unusual female come to be part of their lives?
Roman’s handiwork with an able assist from Liam and encouraged by her brother’s fiancée, Rhiann Wilde. The three of them were obsessed with safety and took security matters as seriously as a heart attack.
It was, she had to admit, somewhat daunting to be faced with dire possibilities at every turn.
With a short sigh, she thought, ‘Have I bitched yet today about how much I hate the fucking city?’
Matty dropped the boxed chess set on the counter and took off, yelling over his shoulder, “I’ll get ready.”
She and Domineau were now alone in the kitchen. Kelly felt tongue-tied and out of her league—and it didn’t help that the other woman’s size made her feel like a kid.
If there was a guidebook with illustrations for badass female agents, Domineau Rivera was the perfect model. The lady with the severely slicked-back hair and tight bun had an intimidating physical presence coupled with some Terminator-like quirks, not the least of which was an impressive ability to be completely still.
Her wardrobe seemed to consist of black, white and gray. Today she was sporting her standard daytime look. A women’s suit jacket and a white shirt tucked into dark gray pants. Dark, opaque sunglasses dangled from her neck by a corded lanyard. Well-worn, shit kicking Doc Martens completed her ensemble.
Kelly had no idea where she’d pull it from, but she knew if threatened, her security assistant would be aiming a gun. The thought was more than a little unsettling.
Pushing some of her unruly hair behind an ear, she mentally grimaced at her fidgety foot shuffling. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Bottled water?”
Domineau’s intimidating scrutiny rattled her cage. If the security agent wanted to make her life hell, she could with little effort. But over the weeks they’d gotten to know each other—in a limited fashion—Kelly noticed the effort her hired protector put into making a cursory attempt at friendliness.
If the Amazon Warrior made her nervous, it wasn’t on purpose.
“I’m good, thanks. Any restrictions or requests for Matthew?”
She said the first thing that came to
mind. “One game and he has to pay for it from his allowance. I don’t give a good goddamn about some crazy petty cash arrangement Roman has set up. Matty has to choose his game and pony up the money. Oh! And there’s a five dollar limit.”
Domineau cracked an actual, frickin’ smile. Kelly had to look at her twice to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.
Right away she muttered a decisive, “Sorry, Ma’am.”
Mimicking Matty’s earlier dry-as-dust reaction she snickered, “Seriously?”
Her hired gun relaxed a little and gave a small chuckle, so Kelly continued.
“Smiling isn’t allowed? How about farting, Agent Rivera? What happens if a toxic wind gust wants release?” She nodded at the woman’s legs. “Are those special anti-noxious pants? Maybe they absorb the fart? Explain to me how this works, and if you call me Ma’am one more time, someone’s gonna get hurt.”
A cartoonish scenario featuring a wildly swinging her being kept with little effort at arms’ length by a grinning female superhero exploded in her imagination.
“Mr. Bishop told me you had little use for protocol,” Domineau replied.
She had to laugh. “Oh, come on. Mr. Bishop? Really? I’m not stupid. You two have known each other for a while, and I highly doubt that knowing was so formal.”
A feather could have knocked her over when two blazing eyes fixed on her and Domineau ground out, “Are you asking if we’ve slept together?”
What? Kelly gaped, slack-jawed at the in-your-face comeback. Holy fuck. If the answer were yes, she’d be kicking herself into forever for having been so stupid as to invite this conversation.
Domineau didn’t wait for her to reply and supplied a vehement denial using more words than she’d heard her ever string together. “Because the answer is a hand on the Bible no. You’re correct. Roman and I have known each other since forever, but right now I work for him. He trusts me with your safety, Ms. James, and you of all people know that Roman Bishop does not trust easily. If I seem overly formal, it’s because this is serious business.”
Embarrassed by her show of petulance she tried an apology. “God, I’m sorry. For real, Domineau. I wasn’t prying. This is all so weird,” she said with a fluttery wave of her hands. “I’m used to hunting for dinner and working my ass off sunrise to sundown.”
“Feel a little like Alice through the looking glass?”
She made a face and grunted. “Alice had an easier time.”
The other woman nodded and glanced around like she was thinking. “Hey. You want to go to the shooting range with me sometime?”
Kelly almost jumped on her like a puppy overcome with excitement. “Hell, yeah!”
A surprising smirk appeared on Domineau’s face. “Of course, I’ll have to ask Mr. Bishop’s permission.”
Kelly knew a challenge when she heard one and barked out a laugh. “Oh, fuck no you will not!”
The Amazon laughed. Out loud.
“I will inform Mr. Bishop of my plans—maybe,” she explained in a theatrically funny high and mighty way. “And in case you did not get the memo—Roman Bishop is not the boss of me. And that applies to Liam Ass-Bore as well.”
Calling out her older brother’s annoying manner was a daily thing—hence the snarky name. Domineau cleared her throat, turned her head and looked in the opposite direction. Kelly could see her choking back more laughter.
Matty’s footsteps got louder as he pounded down the hallway toward them. He ran into the kitchen and stopped by jumping and landing with a thud. With his little boy fists at his waist, he looked like a superhero in training.
“Ready,” he shouted.
“Inside voice, please,” she reminded him.
He held up his wrist for her to look at. “See? This will count how many steps I take today. Isn’t that cool?”
The child-sized wrist equipment looked like every other fitness device, but she knew it was a lot more than that. Roman’s protective instincts were practical as well as fierce. She’d objected to the tracking device at first until he pointed out that it was a standard child safety procedure in today’s fucked up world.
Smoothing his hair, she smiled into eyes filled with love—for her.
“Are you okay, Kik?”
“Never better, kiddo,” she assured him.
He looked at her with his old soul gaze. “We liked the bread you made.”
Aw, wasn’t he sweet?
Roman made a production out of hooking her up with every conceivable ingredient or equipment needed for her to get her bake on. It was such a silly thing, but Kelly deeply appreciated her two guys and how willing they were to do anything to make her happy. She was also aware of everyone’s attention and concern, so she went out of her way to put on a happy face.
“The car is here,” Domineau told them. Gesturing with her phone, she asked, “Need us to pick up anything?”
Here was something else she had a hard time getting used to. Every god damn thing involved a cell phone. Not just a communication device, it was more like a hand held computer with calendars and reminders and an app for notes. Something about the impersonal tech rubbed her the wrong way.
Just to be perverse and also to make a subtle point she said, “Yeah,” and held up her finger. “Give me a minute.”
From the kitchen catch-all drawer, she fished out a pen and a small pad of note paper. Thinking quickly, Kelly scribbled baklava. Roman’s favorite treat. She didn’t need to add where to buy it. Everyone knew Roman’s approved baklava vendors.
Handing the note paper to Domineau, she gave Matty a meaningful look. “Baklava. Two pieces,” she told him.
To the other woman’s credit, she didn’t enter a note in her phone and instead folded the already small paper in half and tucked it into her pocket.
Kelly walked them to the elevator while Matty chattered on about challenging a seven-year-old to a chess game. The idea of wandering around the park watching strangers young and old hunched over chess sets was so mind-numbingly boring that she had no problem expressing gratitude for Domineau sharing Matty’s fascination.
“You’re my new hero,” she murmured to the other woman. “Candyland I can play. Chess makes me twitchy.”
They stepped into the elevator and turned to look at her. Domineau’s hand was on Matty’s shoulder. He waved and blew her a kiss.
“How long do you think you’ll be?”
“Hours,” came the matter-of-fact answer. “You’ve got the whole day to yourself. I’ll call if we run late for dinner.”
“Bye Kik,” Matty hooted as the elevator door wooshed shut, and she was left alone in the foyer.
Hours, huh? Shit. Now what did she do?
She wandered around the magnificent apartment. An entire wall of books, ready to be explored, seemed to mock her. Reading was a passion, but her emotions were such a mess lately that it was hard to focus long enough to comprehend.
Ignoring the control pad for the entertainment system cleverly concealed behind panels above the mantel, she went instead and leaned against the side of one of the enormous windows that made the thirteen-foot ceilings so dramatic.
On the street below, people and vehicles moved along. A cloudy sky made the day even grayer. Alone with nothing but her thoughts, the restless energy that was her constant companion nipped at her ass.
Doing something—anything—became super important because she couldn’t just stand around in a melancholy daze.
The lure of Roman’s sybaritic en suite pulled her in. It was ridiculous that she was so enamored of a bathroom, but the luxurious tub and phenomenal shower tickled most of her hedonistic tendencies. A built-in vanity that had gotten no use during his bachelor days was now crammed with all sorts of girly equipment and products. Because all of that wasn’t perfect enough, there was even a towel warmer.
Thinking of the towel warmer led to a hilarious thought that brought a snorting chuckle. In just a couple of weeks, Roman Bishop had turned her. Yes, that’s right. She was turned. T
urned into an indulged, pleasure-seeking sensualist. If it felt good, she was in—even if it was just some warm towels.
Stripping out of her clothes, Kelly turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature until steam filled the enclosed stall. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her naked body in the mirror.
Turning to face her reflection, her gaze lingered. Until Roman came along with his effusive appreciation of her physical form, Kelly hadn’t thought of herself in those terms. Or as a sexual being at all. Big boobs and a curvy ass didn’t keep a roof over her head or put food on the table.
“My my, how times have changed,” she muttered into the silence.
Rhiann Wilde was her fairy godmother in every way that counted when it came to having half a clue what being a female in love with a hot alpha meant in the bigger picture.
When she arrived in the Big Apple, Kelly’s style consisted of second hand, practical clothes suitable for a rural, country life with just enough grooming to not fall into Sasquatch territory.
Things were different now. At Rhiann’s urging, she’d been cut, coiffed, and blown out. A specialist defined her brows and turned her on to the magic of face masks.
Then there was the waxing. Holy shit—what an experience that was the first time. And the second! But well worth it from her lover’s reaction.
An arched brow and smirk ended with a long sigh. Her garden of dark curls was now a lovely hedge with a subtle heart shape. Just like any garden of delights, this one even had its own products. Her eyes sought out the small bottle of Fur Oil on her vanity and she started laughing.
Looking at her reflection, she gestured to her lady parts. “I oil my pubes. For real, folks!”
Kelly didn’t know who she was talking to, but sharing out loud the fact that products for pussy grooming even existed seemed necessary.
When the shower was perfect, she reached in and re-adjusted the water temperature so her skin wasn’t scalded, and stepped into the enclosure. Her favorite bath products were there next to Roman’s stuff. About to pour bath gel on her poof, her hand detoured and grabbed the bottle of his wash. Flipping the cap, she held it to her nose and inhaled. Spicy and sensual—a metaphor for the man—she loved the smell.
Checkmate: A Bishop's Pawn Novella Page 1