Checkmate Duet Series

Chapter 5-2

The warmness of her breath brushes against my cheek, and for a moment, I almost pull her to my chest and give in to what her body’s begging for. It’d be so easy to run my fingers through her hair and pull her lips close to mine. I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about it. She’s my best friend’s little sister, of course I have. She’s always been the forbidden fruit, the girl I’m not supposed to want. Over the course of pissing her off and pushing her away, she’s grown to hate me more than I believed possible. I hear her breath catch as our bodies inch closer, almost as if she’s anticipating it. I have her under my spell, whether or not she’ll ever admit it, but I won’t give Viola anything until she begs for it.

I take a step back, flashing a wide, knowing grin. She releases a deep groan, narrows her eyes at me, and storms off back to Drew’s room. She doesn’t slam the door this time, and I’m relieved to finally have some space from her, even if I’ll be thinking about her lips, her perky t**s, and the way she shimmied her bare ass in front of me for a long, long time.

I must have a brain tumor or something because it felt like Travis was almost, maybe about to kiss me.

Ha! That's insane.

The last time I fell for his smooth ways, he broke my young, fragile heart. No way am I letting myself go down that path again. I might've only been twelve at the time, but it's not exactly something you just get over. I wasn’t just a girl crushing on her older brother’s best friend. He didn’t treat me like a little kid. He actually made me feel special.

I’ll never forget the time Drew called me stupid in front of his friends. It made me so mad I ran to the backyard and cried my eyes out. Travis left them and sat next to me as I ripped flowers from the ground. He made everything seem simple, easy even, as he wiped my tears away. He grabbed my hand, pulling me to the ground with him, and we looked up at the clouds. I was more important than his friends and video games. That’s when Travis King wasn’t full of himself and preoccupied with banging every hot girl he met. He was a boy with manners, who always seemed to say the right things to me.

I was a naïve little girl. I know that now. But when you watch your Prince Charming tap every other girl around you—including your best friend since second grade—it's easy to believe something must be wrong with you when he never looks your way.

I thought, maybe if I was smarter. Or skinnier. Or had bigger boobs and longer legs. If I was just something more, he’d see me as more than just his friend’s kid sister.

So basically, I hated myself all through middle school and hated him even more through high school. He toyed with my self-esteem, and I grew to hate him for that, too.

I knew all of that stuff was petty. It was immature and lame, but now after all the years of feeling rejected, I can’t stand being around him. He’s a constant reminder that I’ll never be good enough. He goes out of his way to get under my skin, and I refuse to tolerate it—even if he still affects me in ways I wished he didn't.

Having to spend the next two weeks alone in a house with Travis King is going to be pure torture. Even though I’d been able to avoid him once he and Drew moved off to college, I only had to tolerate him when I drove up to visit Drew. Then everything changed again when I got a full-ride scholarship offer from the same college. Being close to Drew was important to me. Neither of my parents’ houses felt like a home since they got divorced, my roommate threw weekend keggers, and I just needed somewhere to hide out and study. Aside from sleeping at the school library, Drew and Travis’s house was my only option. On the weekends Travis was gone, it became my sanctuary. But of course, he'd return and ruin it all.

After heading back to Drew’s room, I fold down the blankets on the bed and slide under the covers. I chuckle when I feel the smooth fabric because I know Drew really did change the sheets for me.

I can’t concentrate at all. My book is flagged with important chapters for my test tomorrow, and I’ve already been through the study guide three times. I have it memorized verbatim. I try to read the words, but they seem to bleed off the pages. I rest my book on my chest and replay every moment from the bathroom to the living room.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I realize Travis saw my bare ass. Oh my God. I can’t help but shake my head at my bravery because I’m not really sure where it came from. I hope the image of my best assets have been burned into his retinas. Take that, King Douche.

The doorbell rings, and my heart drops. It’s Travis’s victim for the night, and as much as I hate to admit, a pang of jealousy rushes through me. She laughs at something and sounds like a dying hyena. I roll my eyes, thinking about how she must believe she has a chance at changing him. He’s obviously into it just for the s*x—just like every other girl he hooks up with—and she’s probably stupid enough to think it’ll lead to something more.

Travis doesn’t do relationships, lady. Run for the hills. I roll my eyes, the sound of her high-pitched giggle grating on my nerves. The low rumble of his voice rings in my ear, but I can’t quite make out what he’s saying. It’s followed by the click of his bedroom door, which is next to Drew’s.

I seriously cannot lay here as he f***s some skank next door. The walls are so thin, I can hear everything. After another minute, her muffled moans become audible, and it makes me physically ill.

Fuck this.

And f**k Travis King.

I throw the blankets off my body and immediately start pacing the room. I shake my head and try to think of something. Travis started this little game, and I'm not backing down. He wants to play, so it's on.

I step out of Drew’s room and knock on Travis’s door. I hear the bimbo still giggling and Travis speaking, so I bang my fist even harder.

“Go away!” he shouts, and my blood boils even more. He doesn't want to follow the rules of the game, then fine. I'll bite.

“Goddammit, Travis! Are you sneaking around behind my back again?” I jiggle the doorknob, threatening to walk in.

“What the hell?” I hear the woman ask.

“It's my roommate’s little sister,” Travis responds as if that’d be explanation enough for her. I hate how he emphasizes the word “little” as if I’m less of a woman. She’ll figure it out since I'm about to go all crazy ex-girlfriend on his ass.

I twist the knob and let myself in. They're both naked with just a thin sheet covering them.

“I thought we would be alone tonight?” She looks at Travis confused, but he’s staring at me, studying my body from head to toe, knowing how it aggravates me when he looks at me like that. He doesn’t acknowledge she spoke and actually ignores the question completely. I almost feel bad for interrupting, but Travis doesn’t seem to mind as he smirks and places his hands behind his head, almost as if he’s enjoying the scene. This is not going how I imagined, but he has no idea what evil plan I have in store. I suck in a deep breath with hopes to ad-lib an Oscar-worthy performance.

“Actually, I’m his girlfriend,” I explain, my eyes watering right on cue. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me again, Travis! How could you?” I scream, my face heating up. Thank God for that semester of theater courses I took freshman year before I changed to business.

I know I’m not as good as I was back then, but I must be believable enough since Sarah From The Bar jumps up and grabs her clothes. I suck in a deep breath, not standing down, and the smirk that covered his face just a few moments before is replaced with a look of disbelief as Sarah puts on her skank suit. His jaw clenches, and I know this can’t be good, but I’m too caught up in reveling in my victory that the booty call has officially been canceled.

“Tonight was obviously a mistake,” Sarah rushes out in a panic. I barely have enough time to shift out of her way as she rushes past me. Travis doesn’t try to explain the truth, and he sure as hell doesn’t chase after her, though I’m sure he’ll be able to smooth it over without any issue. It’s just an advantage of being Travis King.

Travis sits up calmly and crosses his arms over his chest, staring me down as if he’s asking if I’m finished. It’s more frightening because he isn’t saying a word. This is the calm before the storm, but nothing can stop the evil smile from creeping across my face. I’ve finally managed to push his buttons, and it’s about damn time. I was beginning to believe nothing I did bothered him.

He climbs out of bed completely naked, and heat rushes to my cheeks. Travis gives no f***s because his body is perfect, and he has the most beautiful man-ass I’ve ever seen. Muscles cascade down his sun-kissed back, and I pull my lips into my mouth to hold back any audible sound that might try to escape. He slowly pulls the jogging pants to his waist and the band snaps to his body, bringing me back to reality. As much as I want to run away, I stand my ground. I’m so pumped up on adrenaline right now, I actually feel like I could take him and all of his muscles.

“Girlfriend? I don’t think so, princess. I can’t believe that’s the best you have.” The frustration and annoyance in his voice isn’t lost on me.

When I realize he’s still moving toward me, I begin backing up until my back touches the wall across from his bedroom door. He rushes through the doorway, and for a moment, I think about running to Drew’s room and locking the door, but I don’t. My traitorous body freezes.

His eyes go dark, and I know he’s just as pissed as I am. When I feel the hardness tucked in his pants graze along my stomach, I hold back a gasp. In a split second, Travis grabs both my wrists and pins them above my head against the wall. He arches his hips, pressing harder against me, making it very evident what he’s so worked up about.

I tilt my head, his mouth so close to mine that I can hardly breathe. I’m being suffocated by Travis King, and I am so bespelled that I cannot move.

Looking up into his golden-brown eyes, I see he’s studying my reaction, probably calculating my next move. I know he’s angry, but there’s something else in his gaze that I can’t make out.

“Tell me something, V,” he says in a husky tone. His lips don’t touch mine, but he’s dangerously close, being the asshole that he’s always been, teasing and tempting me with every breath he takes. I want to struggle and demand that he never call me that again, but he’s stolen my voice and my words, along with my mind. The control he has over me at this very moment is pathetic. My heart is racing, and I can smell him, an unmistakable fragrance that I wish I didn’t know so well. It’s sweet and manly and all Travis but mixed with another woman’s perfume nearly knocks me right off my feet.

I ball my fists because I don’t know whether to love or hate what’s happening. Too many emotions swirl together, and time feels like it’s frozen as he overpowers me. If he doesn’t let go, I’ll kick him in the balls and watch him fall to his knees. Back on the playground, I was known for being a ballbuster, and he, out of anyone, should know better. Instead of releasing me, Travis tightens his grip, and I let out an agitated grunt as I try to break free from him.

“What’s the game plan, Travis? Are you going to keep me captive all night?” I roll my eyes and shake my head, trying not to meet his eyes.

“That’s a good idea.” He holds me hostage with one hand and brushes the other against the light stubble that graces his strong jaw. “Let me think about it for a while longer.”

“You’re such an asshole,” I mumble, forcing my eyes closed because I don’t want to look at him anymore. My body is betraying me. I try to pretend I’m somewhere else where I can’t smell or feel the warmth of Travis’s skin against mine.

“Now that my night’s been ruined, what am I going to do?” He searches my face, waiting for me to flinch. Closeness like this usually activates my flight-or-fight instinct, especially when it comes to Travis King. But I refuse to let him know it’s becoming uncomfortable and awkward. I try to relax as best I can because this could go on all night. And if I know Travis, it will. The man doesn’t half-ass anything.

“I’m just doing her a favor. I’ve heard crabs are a b***h. The rash and itch.” My shoulders rise and fall, seemingly unaffected by the position he’s put us in. “You should know.”

He actually cracks a smile. “You’d think with how much you talk about my d**k you’d ridden it before.”

“You’re so vile,” I hiss, narrowing my eyes at him.

He tugs his bottom lip and runs his perfect teeth across the plumpness. It’s a pity those features are being wasted on such an asshole of a man. If I didn’t hate him as much as I do, those lips might actually be considered kissable. He leans in, his mouth too close for comfort and whispers in my ear. “You have no idea just how vile I can be.”

I grit my teeth and channel all the pent-up aggression I have toward him. As my body tightens, I twist my wrists, trying to loosen the grip he has on me. Strands of my hair start falling from my messy bun, and I can feel my chest and neck flushing.

I know I must look ridiculous. Adrenaline rushes through my veins as I try to gain control. After struggling for what feels like minutes, I drop my legs from under my body. If he wants to keep me here, he’ll have to hold me up with those big muscles he likes to flaunt around. But he doesn’t allow me to dangle for too long. Travis releases me, but on his terms— when he’s ready—and my ass hits the floor with a loud thump.

“Aww, little V is all worked up.” He stands over me with a confident smirk that I’m tempted to slap off.

I pull myself up on my feet and push a finger to his chest. “Touch me like that again and it’ll be the last.”

“Are you sure you’d want that, princess?” He’s not at all affected by my threat, and it pisses me off even more.

“f**k you,” I hiss.

“Now you’re talking about f*****g,” he says with amusement in his tone. “All these mixed signals are getting confusing.” He glances down my body and pauses on my n*****s that are so hard they could etch glass.

Quickly, I cross my arms, but it’s way too late; they’ve already given me away.

He slowly lingers over my curves, and I realize every insecurity I have is on display for him to judge. As a sarcastic laugh escapes him, somehow I know it’s at my expense.

With nostrils flaring, I try to speak in the calmest voice I can as he moves toward the doorway of his bedroom. My hands find their way to my hips because I’m not standing down. Not this time. Not ever.

“This is war, King.”

“Game on, princess,” he says before slamming the door in my face.