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Checkmate

Page 14

by Lindsey Powell


  If I wasn’t in deep before, then I sure am now. I know that look. I’ve seen that look before.

  Joey is about to claim me, for good this time.

  He crawls up my body until his face is above mine.

  He settles between my legs, his length nudging against my opening.

  His eyes, oh his eyes. Those ice blues looking straight into my stormy greys, showing me that this is going to be the moment where I need to let go and give myself to him fully. This is the moment when I really have to choose. This is where he wants me to tell him that this is for real, no games, no foul play.

  “I’m ready, Joey,” I tell him, not even having to think about it. “I’ve been ready all along, it just took me a little while to see it.”

  “I’m not letting you go again, Paige, so just know that if you run, I will chase. If you put those walls back up, I will knock them down. And if you shut me out, I’ll come blazing in like the goddamn sun.”

  Fuck.

  “This is real,” I start as I place my hands on either side of his face. “No games, no agendas. I want this, I want you, Joey. The queen beside the king, as it always should have been.”

  “Damn fucking straight,” he says before taking my mouth with his and sliding his dick into me.

  He fills me, swallowing my moans as his tongue moves against mine.

  He moves in and out of me slowly.

  He’s in no rush, and neither am I.

  My orgasm builds, my pleasure heightens, and I tighten around him.

  His lips move away as his forehead rests against mine.

  “I don’t ever want to be without you again, Paige,” he whispers as I continue to shoot towards my release. “I missed you, baby, so fucking much.”

  “Joey,” I say on a breath, his words pushing me to the brink.

  His thumb finds my clit, and he slowly moves it in circles.

  And I am fucking done for.

  I cry out as I hit my peak. I cry out some more as Joey hits his. We both ride it out, prolonging the pleasure, needing to savour every single second of it.

  My body trembles from the aftermath.

  My mind floats on cloud fucking nine.

  And my heart beats fast for the man led on top of me.

  Joey fucking Valentine. Mine.

  Chapter Thirty

  Paige

  Dear God, I can’t move. My legs don’t want to work as I attempt to get off of the bed.

  Joey is asleep next to me. I must have drifted off after he fucked me a second time. The first time was claiming each other. The second one was pure animal sex. I’m damn sure I marked his back with my fingernails as they drove into his skin whilst he milked every bit of my orgasm from me.

  So fucking good.

  I smile at the vivid memory that I get to keep forever.

  I gingerly stand up, making sure that my legs will actually hold me up after Joey’s reminder of what he can do to me.

  I carefully tip-toe across the room so that I don’t wake him and search the hall way for the toilet so that I can freshen up before I have to leave and deal with Meghan fucking Morgan. I hope that for her sake she gives up the information that I want easily. I don’t have the energy to fight her for every little detail.

  As I walk down the hall way, I peek in each door, trying to find the bathroom, and of course, it’s hidden at the very end, behind the last door that I come to.

  I walk in to the sheer extravagance, but then I wouldn’t expect anything else from Joey. He probably hired the most expensive interior designer when he decorated this place. From the gleaming gold taps to the massive walk in shower, it is like something out of a show home.

  Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I can already notice the sparkle in my eyes, the flush of my cheeks and how the tension lines have disappeared from my forehead. It seems that giving into my desire for Joey is already having an impact, even if it was only a couple of hours ago. I’ve battled so hard, and for so long, but maybe giving up the battle to keep Joey out is going to be the making of me. I sure hope so because I really wouldn’t survive the heartbreak again.

  The bathroom door opens behind me, and Joey’s eyes connect with mine in the mirror.

  His heated gaze almost boring into me.

  My body heats from that alone.

  He moves towards me, slowly, like a predator, and I’m more than happy to be his prey.

  He stops behind me. His hands gently rest on my hips. Goose-bumps ignite all over me.

  His touch alone has me wanting more.

  “I thought for a second that maybe you had left,” he says, his voice low, his head moving down, his lips grazing the skin of my shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, big guy, I’m still here,” I say with a smile on my face, our eyes connected in the mirror.

  “Big guy, it’s been a long time since I heard those words.”

  It was my pet name for him, back when we were first together. Big guy. In more ways than one.

  His hands move around to my front, and his right hand lightly trails down, further and further, until he is parting me before my very eyes. I watch mesmerised as his finger circles my clit, enticing a moan from deep within me. I close my eyes as he continues to circle, only for him to put his lips by my ear and whisper, “Open your eyes, baby. Watch as I make you come undone.”

  And damn, my eyes pop straight open, and I watch.

  I watch as he pleasures me.

  I watch as he the king brings the queen to her knees.

  And I love every single second of it.

  Raw.

  Passionate.

  Real.

  Just the two of us, no drama, no hate, and nothing but a fucking lifetime of making up to do. But I have to cut the party short, because a queen’s work is never done.

  “I gotta go, Joey,” I say, when I get my breath back.

  “You sure about that?” he says as he nibbles on my ear lobe and fuck if I don’t want to just throw in the towel and let him devour me over and over again. But I can’t. I have people depending on me, and I have to get answers to the questions that are plaguing my mind.

  “Afraid so, big guy.”

  “Anything I can help with?” he asks, still nibbling.

  Jesus Christ, if he doesn’t stop doing that, I’ll never get out of here.

  “Joey,” I say a little more sternly, and he stops, letting out a sigh as he does.

  “You can’t expect to be naked and me do nothing about it,” he says, a cheeky smirk on his face.

  “All in good time, big guy, all in good time,” I say as I saunter past him and head back to his bedroom.

  “I fucking love it when you call me that,” I hear him say and it brings a smile to my face.

  Me too, big guy. Me too.

  Chapter Thirty One

  Paige

  “Where is she?” I ask as I walk through my front door, kicking it shut behind me.

  “Downstairs, boss,” Bray answers.

  “She tried to pull anything?” I ask, needing to know whether she is erratic or calm as fuck, so that I have an inkling of how all of this is going to go down.

  “No problems. Came willingly. Didn’t even bat an eyelid,” Bray informs me.

  Huh.

  Interesting.

  “Donovan down there with her?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “Okay. Well, let’s get this show started then,” I say as I head along the hall way and make my way downstairs to the basement where the fucking low lives are kept.

  Each click of my heel becomes louder the further down I go, until I am at the bottom and I see Donovan stood at the end, his arms folded, legs parted, looking every inch the badass that I know he is.

  Tony is stood along from him, beside the cage that contains the two brothers. And then sat on a chair, her arms tied behind her, a gag in her mouth, is Meghan.

  I walk over, back straight, head in the air, mind on the fucking game.

  Back to business.

&n
bsp; Meghan is sat so her back is to me, but once I am in her sight, I see her face drop. She had to have known that this day would come. She couldn’t get away with hiding in her brothers shadows forever.

  “Meghan Morgan,” I say as I stand in front of her, hands on my hips. Her eyes widen as I move towards her, making sure that we’re eye level. “No need to look so worried, all I want to do is ask you some questions.” It’s my fake-as-hell voice talking, but there is no denying the underlying threat that laces my words.

  “Take her gag off,” I say to no one in particular, one of the boys will do it. And Donovan steps up, moving to the back of Meghan and gently undoing the knot to release the cloth that stops her from saying anything.

  Donovan then stands back, his eyes still on Meghan.

  Interesting again. His eyes are usually on me. Not that I mind, but I need him to be fully focussed for this to play out how I want.

  “Don’t you dare fucking touch her,” Clive shouts from his cage. I turn around and glare at him.

  “You are in no position to tell me what to do,” I start. “And if you want her to come out of this alive, then I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut.”

  “Bitch,” I hear him mumble, but he settles down, leaning his back against the cage as he watches on.

  Larry doesn’t say a word. He looks defeated, like he knows his time is coming to an end far quicker than he would have liked.

  I turn back to Meghan and she still has those wide eyes, along with a trembling bottom lip. I roll my eyes. As if a trembling lip and a woman on the verge of tears is about to stop me from forging ahead.

  “So, Meghan, I guess you have already figured out why you are here?” I ask. I would rather know whether I am dealing with stupid or arrogant to begin with.

  “Yes,” she says quietly.

  “Oh, come on, Meghan, speak up, your answers are going to need to be shared with the whole group,” I say as I lift my arms to my sides, spreading them out so that she gets the idea of engaging with the whole fucking room.

  She clears her throat. “Yes, I know why I’m here.”

  “Good––”

  “It’s because of those assholes,” she says with a tilt of her head in her brother’s direction. “They made me do it, I swear. I never wanted any part of it. I never wanted to be involved in anything they did,” she rambles, giving me answers to questions that I never realised I wanted the answers to.

  “They forced me to drive that car, they forced me to watch as they hurt Miles, they made me do it, I swear.”

  “Shut your fucking mouth,” Clive shouts.

  “No,” she shouts back. “I’ve covered for you assholes for too long. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be associated with you,” she says, almost spitting the last word out.

  “Meghan, I swear, when I get out of here, shit is going to get bad for you real quick if you don’t keep your fucking mouth shut,” Clive continues, and I have heard enough of their family spat.

  “Enough,” I say loudly. “Clive, keep it shut or you will die within the next few seconds,” I say as I raise my gun, click the safety off and point it in his direction.

  “You’re gonna fucking kill me anyway, so why drag it out?” he replies, trying to goad me.

  “You know, I was just thinking the same thing,” I say before I pull the trigger and fire. The sound of the bullet leaving the gun echoes around the room. It only takes a second for Clive’s body to hit the ground, the thud ricocheting around us all.

  “Well, that’s one less pain in the ass to deal with,” I say as I click the safety back on my gun and replace it in the back of my trousers. “You wanna be the next, Larry?”

  He shakes his head, his eyes on his lifeless brother.

  It wasn’t the way I wanted to end Clive, I wanted him to suffer much more than just a bullet to the head, but he lived longer than he was supposed to, and at least now I don’t have to deal with his incessant whining every time I come down here.

  “Now, where were we?” I say, turning back to Meghan and her shocked-as-shit eyes. Surely, she isn’t that surprised that this kind of stuff happens in this world? She has been the sister of the three biggest assholes to ever walk the earth, she must have seen plenty.

  “Are you going to kill me?” she asks, her panicked eyes coming back to mine. Her eyes are quite pretty, being a turquoise colour, like two pools of clear blue sea. Her curly, black hair hangs around her face, albeit a little messy, but it could be styled nicely. And actually, she doesn’t look like the brothers much; she’s actually good-looking, unlike those assholes who look like they have just crawled out from under a rock.

  “That depends… You going to give me the answers I need?” I ask her, lowering down to her level, making sure I have complete focus.

  “Yes.” No hesitation in her answer.

  “Then we shouldn’t have a problem, apart from the fact that you drove the car so that your brothers could stab my boy.”

  I feel Donovan’s eyes flick to me. I give a slight nod of my head to confirm that Meghan was telling the truth when she said that she was driving the car. His nostrils flare, and I know that he would love nothing more than to beat the shit out of something right now just to get rid of some of his frustration. It’s his lucky day because I’m letting him loose on Larry later. I have no need for the sad sack to be sticking around anymore. I have Meghan, and I am betting that she is going to give me all of the answers that I need.

  “I didn’t want to do it,” she starts. “I didn’t, I swear. I like Miles, and they won’t even tell me if he is okay.” I can see her eyes have worry lurking beneath them. Is she really worried about Miles? Or her life? This chick is going to take a little bit more figuring out.

  “We’ll talk about Miles later. Right now, I want to know where Bobby is,” I say, standing to my full height again, crossing my arms in front of me.

  “Don’t do it, Meghan,” Larry says, albeit a lot fucking quieter than his brother did.

  I can hear the plea in his voice, Meghan can hear it too, but she’s clearly had enough of her brothers to last a lifetime as she answers me.

  “He’s in the basement, underneath Morgan’s.” And there it is, the motherfucking jackpot answer.

  “He been there all this time?” I ask, needing to know if there is anywhere else I should be looking.

  “No. He was on a canal boat first, then when he got paranoid about being found, he took to the basement. He’s been there ever since,” she says like it’s no big deal that she just gave up one of her own.

  Very fucking interesting.

  “Anyone else down there with him?”

  “No. Just him. I take him food and drink, he shouts a load of abuse at me, and then I leave,” she replies.

  “Meghan, what have you done?” Larry says in disbelief.

  “I’ve fucking ended it,” she snaps back at him.

  “You always were a stupid bitch,” he spits. “Never good for anything.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, dear brother,” she says, the sarcasm dripping from her mouth. “I was never the stupid one. I watched, I waited, and now this is my fucking out. I never wanted to be associated with you. You might be related to me, but it’s by blood only, and if I could change that fact then I would do it in a fucking heartbeat. I’ve always hated you, all of you. Making me work in your sleazy-ass restaurant, letting your friends cop a feel, making me drive for you and get involved in your shady shit. I’m done. And so are you.”

  Well.

  Fucking bravo.

  Nice little speech.

  And definitely making me warm up to this chick, ever so slightly.

  Maybe her being a woman has made her feel left out of her brothers’ dealings. Maybe it’s because she a hell of a lot younger than them. Or maybe it’s because she genuinely doesn’t share their disgusting thirst for life. Whatever it is, Meghan has fire, and I respect anyone with fire. Especially when they are packing a whole load of it, which she clearly
is.

  “Bray, Tony, you’re staying here. Make sure that Meghan gets some food and a drink. Donovan, you’re coming with me,” I instruct. “And Larry,” I say as I turn to face him with a sickly sweet smile on my face. “Countdown starts now, asshole. As soon as I bring Bobby’s ass in here, the game is over, and then my boys get to have their fun.”

  I see him gulp, he does nothing to mask it as he sits next to his dead brother, the blood pooling from his head wound.

  “Meghan, I’ll deal with you later.” It’s the last thing I say before walking out, Donovan behind me, ready to go and kick some more ass.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Joey

  “Joey,” Raymond says, walking into my office, the door flying open and hitting the wall. “We’ve got a problem.”

  “Another one?” I say, exasperated. Only a few hours ago I was in my bed, with my queen, and now I’m about to be bombarded with another issue to sort out.

  “You’re going to want to know about this one.”

  The edge to his voice has me looking away from my computer screen.

  “I’m all ears,” I say, gesturing for him to sit the fuck down. Raymond shuts the door and makes his way over, taking a seat, ready to give me the details of whatever it is I’ve got to deal with now.

  “I’ve known you a long time, Joey, and I know that there is more to you and Paige than you’re letting on, but it’s your business and none of mine,” he starts, and I lean back in my chair, waiting to see what his point is. “This is why I figured you would want to know that Bobby has Paige.”

  “Pardon?” I don’t think I heard him correctly.

  “Bobby fucking Morgan has got Paige.”

  “He can’t have. She found him. She beat us to the punch,” I say, fury starting to build inside of me.

  “She didn’t find him. She found his hiding spot, but he had already fled,” Raymond informs me.

 

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