Welcome to another installment of Musings! What story will you tell?
Joel watched her long slender fingers grip the bishop piece, the tips of her nails resting on its gentle sloped top. Make your move, I’m ready. He’d accounted for this play, was ready for it.
His lips almost spread into a smile, but he couldn’t celebrate, not until she’d played right into his hands.
He watched her hazel eyes study the board. She was planning too.
She turned the piece on the spot, never lifting it from its square. It was a slow torture to be teased with the promise of winning, unable to claim the prize until she released that bishop.
How was it that he was the winner, but she held the key to his freedom?
His focus was brought back to the present as he watched her chew on her bottom lip. God, that drives me crazy. It was a habit of hers, something she did when she was concentrating, holding things together… losing control.
The game was forgotten when his mind traveled back to the night before,, when she bit her lip as she turned to look over her shoulder, his name through her teeth, her muscles squeezing tight.
Staying in his seat was becoming difficult. Thoughts of all the ways he loved her filled his head. He bounced the ball of his foot beneath the table, watching her release the bishop and pick up her knight.
“Check.” Her eyes were still on the board, still focused, oblivious of the effect she had.
It was a move he didn’t expect, a new tactic. He’d always admired her intellect, her logic. In that moment, he admired even more, watching the swell of her chest when she inhaled.
“Mate in two moves. Your turn, unless you want to yield.” Her voice was soft and playful, her smile wide.
Two moves? We’ll see about that. He rose from his chair, ignoring the knight and capturing his queen.