Checkmate Duet Series

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

TRAVIS

I love a girl who can suck d**k like a champ. Watching her tongue lick up my thick vein, pumping blood to my best and biggest asset, sets my body ablaze. She wraps her hand around my shaft, sucks on the tip, and pumps hard until I release inside her delicious mouth.

“Mm…salty.” She licks her lips and pushes a finger inside her mouth, sucking it clean.

“Sorry for the mess.” I pull myself back inside my pants and re-buckle my belt.

“I caught most of it.” She’s grinning as if swallowing is some kind of special achievement.

I grab her hand and lift her up, leaning in to give her a chaste kiss. “Thanks, babe.”

“No, thank you.” Her eyes light up as a soft giggle releases from her throat.

I lick my lips. “Mm…you’re right.”

She furrows her brows in question.

“Salty.” Her eyes widen as she realizes what I’m referring to.

“So…same time next week?” She bats her long, fake lashes up at me, and I fight the urge to laugh in her face.

“I’ll check my schedule.” I open the door and casually look out in the hallway to make sure no one else is around. “All clear, babe.”

She follows me out, but we walk in different directions.

I head toward the elevator and press the call button. Once I’m in, I turn around and smile as I watch Alyssa Crawford’s hips sway from side to side as she walks toward the emergency exit staircase.

Yup. I’m hooking up with the daughter of Sloan Crawford, CEO of Crawford Marketing.

And a nice hookup it’s become.

“Wipe that smug look off your face, King.” I hear as soon as I step off the elevator. It’s Blake James, my lead supervisor.

“Don’t be a jealous d**k,” I retort, walking toward my office.

“Not jealous, dude.”

“You would be if you knew what I was smiling about.” I turn around and grin, walking backward through my door. He rolls his eyes with a sigh, and I laugh as I slam the door shut.

Since my lunch break was spent in the bathroom on the ninth floor, I’m still starving. However, I can’t leave my office again, so I text my roommate, Drew.

Travis: Dude, bring me a sandwich! I’m starving!

Drew: Didn’t you eat on your lunch?

Travis: Not exactly…

I send back, knowing he’ll understand what I mean.

Drew: Do I even wanna know?

I smirk.

Travis: Let’s just say… I was the meal, and she loved every last swallow.

Drew: How you don’t get your ass laid out and canned from your job, I’ll never know.

I imagine him shaking his head in disapproval.

Travis: It’s the charm, bro.

Drew: Unlikely.

Travis: So, come on… bring me something to eat before I die.

Drew: Can’t…stuck doing b***h work till five.

I groan. He’s been working at the Sacramento PD for the past two years now, ever since we graduated from college. Between his long-distance girlfriend and working overtime, we barely cross paths anymore.

Travis: f**k. All right. Never mind.

Drew: Why not just order delivery?

Travis: Because every chick who comes to deliver it ends up with an extra tip…

That isn’t a complete lie. I also forgot my wallet, but I spare him the details.

Drew: I can’t even deal with you.

Travis: So you see my dilemma?

I laugh to myself.

Drew: Sorry, man. I’ll see if I can get someone who has some self-control and willpower to send something.

I roll my eyes.

Travis: Thanks.

I get back to work, making calls and returning emails before my afternoon conference call. Less than an hour later, the receptionist buzzes and tells me my lunch is here.

Yes! I knew Drew wouldn’t let me down.

“Send it in,” I say back.

I adjust my tie and sit back as the door whips open. I look up as five and a half feet of pure hatred walks in. Good call, Drew. The self-control and willpower are strong with this one.

Viola Fisher.

“Well, well, well…” I drawl out, crossing my arms over my chest in delight. “If this isn’t the surprise of the century.” Little Goody Two-shoes, delivering my lunch as if I’m the biggest inconvenience of her life. She must have owed Drew a favor.

She throws a brown bag on top of my desk and glares. “Cut the s**t, Travis.”

“Always a delight, V.” I continue smiling as her lips straighten into an angry line.

“It’s Viola,” she corrects like she does every time.

“But V the Virgin sounds so much better. Don’t you agree?”

“I’m not a virgin,” she hisses. She throws her hands up and spins around. “I don’t need to explain anything to you. Enjoy your lunch, asshole. I poisoned it.” She opens the door and stalks out, letting the door slam shut behind her.

I grab the bag and pull out a turkey club and a bag of chips. I analyze the food, knowing damn well she probably would poison me if she had the chance. Just to be safe, I stuff the sandwich back in the bag and grab the chips instead. At least I know she hasn’t tampered with that.

I can’t help the pleased grin that spreads across my face when I see she’s picked out barbecue-flavored baked chips for me. She knows barbecue chips are my favorite even though she’ll deny it until the day she dies.

Yeah, that’s what happens when you’ve known a girl for most of your life. She shares DNA with Drew, who’s been my best friend since we were twelve. We grew up together, played on the same sports teams, and even lived across the street from each other. After our sophomore year of college, we moved out of the dorms. We now rent a house off campus together, where Viola is always lurking around. She’s hell-bent on commenting on every aspect of my life even though she’s the one who needs to get one.

Needless to say, Viola and I haven’t had a great relationship. Or a relationship period.

She hates my guts.

I don’t blame her entirely. But I don’t exactly adore her either. She’s the perfect little prude who thinks she knows everything just because she’s the class brainiac. She judges everything I do while being a complete c**k tease. At least, I know how to walk the walk. I’d be surprised if she knew where her own G-spot is.

“King…” Blake steps into my office, his eyes lit up wide. “Who was that chick?” The corners of his lips are turned up in an excited grin. “She was hot!”

I roll my eyes. Viola is not hot.

Jessica Biel—hot.

Megan Fox—bangin’.

Eva Mendes—smokin’.

Scarlett Johansson—p**n star hot.

But Viola Fisher—gorgeous, stunning, absolutely breathtaking. Much more than hot. Even though she could afford to loosen her panties a little. Both figuratively and literally.

Even if she did bat an eyelash my way, Drew would kill me before he allowed me to touch his little sister.

“That’s my roommate's little sister, Viola. She was just dropping off my lunch.”

His lips turn down. “Oh…you’re already hitting that, aren’t you?”

The top corner of my lip twists up, and a small chuckle rolls off my tongue. “Uh, no. Not even close.”

His brows furrow. “Then why was she here bringing you food?”

“Because Drew’s my best friend, and I’ve known them both since we were kids. He might’ve asked her to, and when she told him to f**k off, he probably threatened to change the locks.”

“Ahh…blackmail.”

I laugh. “Maybe. She secretly loves doing things for me.”

“You’re an arrogant d**k, King.” He shakes his head as he aims for the door, but a small smile pulls at his lips.

“Arrogance is the key to success, James!” I holler back, but he’s already walking away and shaking his head at me.

Oh well…you can’t win everyone over.

You have got to be freaking kidding me!

I want to yell and flail my arms at the jaw-clenching task my brother has asked me to do.

Drew: Can you take Travis a sandwich at work? He didn’t have time to eat during his break.

I roll my eyes at the message he sends me. A lame attempt to cover Travis’s ass. Didn’t have time…really? I wasn’t born yesterday.

However, Drew does so much for me that I have a hard time refusing him. As kids, we weren’t super close, but as we grew older, he became much more than just my brother. He’s my best friend. As much as I want to tell him to tell Travis to f**k off, I don’t.

Viola: Fine. But I’m putting rat poison in his mayo.

Drew: Whatever gives it flavor.

I smile as I read his message. Drew knows I hate Travis. Not like, har-har-I-hate-you kind of hate, but like loathing, I’d-rather-eat-my-arm-off-than-be-near-you kind of hate.

But Travis is his best friend, so when he needs a favor, I usually get roped into helping somehow.

After throwing his lunch on his desk, I storm out of his office with a harrumph. I was three seconds away from slapping his stupid, I’m-so-hot grin right off his face.

He’s not hot, for the record.

He’s a f*****g devil and gorgeous god all in one, and he knows it, too. With his sculpted six-pack, sleeve tattoos, and stunning brown eyes, he’s the type who never has to work for anything.

He works out religiously and reminds me every time when he walks around the house shirtless. Aside from working out, his extracurricular activities include being naked and between some bimbo’s legs. If only he cared about the girls he brings home the way he cared about his body, we’d be having a much different conversation.

For the record, I only know this because he lives with my older brother.

I drive out of the parking lot and head back to school. Although this is my last year, I still live on campus. I received a full scholarship based on my grades and SAT scores, so spending the extra money to be off campus didn’t make sense. Luckily, I was able to choose courtyard housing last year, which means I get my own bedroom and bathroom and only have to share a living room and kitchen with my three other roommates. For extra money, I tutor jocks. Never a short supply of academically questionable athletes on campus.

“Hey, Viola!” Ashley calls out as soon as I walk through the door.

“Hey! You’re back early.” I set my stuff down on the table and rummage through it.

“Class got dismissed as soon as we finished the quiz,” she says between bites of chewing her lunch.

“What a waste of a class.” I love school. Yes, I’m one of those students who absolutely loves studying, doing homework, and participating in class lectures. I even devote an entire weekend to shop for school supplies and then organize it all by color and subject.

I’m smart, so sue me.

Actually, don’t. I can’t afford a lawyer.

“Doesn’t bother me!” She stands up from the couch and stalks over. “Jesus, Viola. What is all this s**t?”

I furrow my brows at her. “This s**t is called textbooks, notebooks, and reading material. You might’ve heard of it?” I tease.

“I swear to God, Viola. You are way too focused on school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a book in your hands.”

“Plenty of times, actually. But you see this building we live in?” I dramatically twirl a finger around in the air. “And all the larger buildings that surround us? That’s called a campus…and it’s where people come to learn.”

“It’s also where people come to party and get laid, but I never see you do any of those things,” she says with a grin.

I scoff. “I get laid plenty of times.” No, I don’t.

She snorts, laughs, and nearly chokes at my words. “That’s the biggest line of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

I sigh. “I’m leaving now. BYE.” I pile my stuff back in my bag and head back out toward the door.

“Love you!” she calls out, but I just flip her my middle finger over my shoulder and slam the door behind me.

I’m really not the buzzkill she’s portraying me as, but it’s safe to say I’m focused on school. More importantly, I’m focused on my future. I’m two hours away from home, and to stay away from that little town after graduation, I’ll have to continue my education or find a job that pays well. I am trying to keep my options open because there really isn’t a home for me to go back to. After our parents’ nasty divorce, the house I grew up in was put on the market and sold. Mom moved on and fell in love with a nice guy named Larry. They’d let me move in without a doubt, but I could never do that. It would just be too weird to live with a man who’s virtually a stranger to me. Dad is still happily married to his job at the law firm, which isn’t surprising. Most days, it feels as if Drew and I only have each other.

Majoring in international business makes me happy. It keeps my mind busy, and I’ve always been fascinated by how other cultures conduct business. I geek out over micro and macroeconomics and just the mention of foreign trade policies gets me hot and bothered.

Earlier in the semester, Dr. Johnson pulled me aside after class and asked if I’d consider an apprenticeship after graduation. I had already started applying for graduate schools, but I wasn’t against the suggestion. If she thought it would benefit my future, I’d definitely consider it.

She handed me a stack of papers with a smile and gave me several handwritten recommendations for each corporation. After looking them over, I decided to apply for a few of them. I’ve been on edge waiting for their replies, but so far nothing yet. After doing further research into these corporations and weighing the benefits of what these experiences could mean for a future career, I’ve become obsessed with planning out every possible path I could take. Those offers will single-handedly decide my future after graduation.

It’s something I’ve kept from Drew, which I feel bad about, but I know if I tell him, he’ll either try to talk me out of moving away, or he’ll ask me on a daily basis if I’ve heard anything yet. The pressure and disappointment are something I want to avoid, so until I know for sure, I’m not telling him anything. As far as he knows, I’ve only applied to graduate schools within the state.

However, I know I’m going to tell him eventually. I’m just waiting until I have to. Once our parents started fighting regularly and their focus shifted from being a family to sabotaging one another, Drew took care of me. Even when he was annoyed with my books and my distaste for sports, he still kept an eye on me. I was a sophomore in high school and he was in his last year of high school when our parents’ fighting really got bad. I could no longer remember a time when we all sat down to eat a meal together or even to attend one of Drew’s basketball games. Somewhere between middle and high school, something shifted, and I really never knew what or why, but it pushed Drew and me together. If anything good came out of my parents' divorce, it was that.

After my final class, I head back to my room, pile my clothes in a basket, and drive over to Drew’s house. Since he and Travis rent a house just ten minutes from campus, I visit after Drew’s shifts and do my laundry every Wednesday night. But since Drew works patrol all day, I stop in after he’s home from work so we can hang out while I wait for my clothes to wash.

“Hey, Vi,” he greets as soon as I walk in. His dark locks are a wild mess as usual, his eyes glued to the TV as his fingers furiously move across the game controller. You wouldn’t know by looking at his muscular frame that he’s a total video game junkie. If he’s not in uniform or killing zombies through the screen, he’s working out with the guys in his unit.

“Hey. Washer free?”

“I think Travis just put his in a few minutes ago.”

I curse under my breath. “He knows I come over on Wednesday nights to do laundry. Why is this a hard concept to understand?”

He doesn’t answer, but we both know why.

Because Travis is a f*****g arrogant douche who thinks he runs the world.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll wait then.” I drop my basket on the floor with a hard smack and stalk toward Drew. I plop on the couch next to him and ask if I can play too.

“You don’t know how to play,” he retorts.

“Well, then teach me. It can’t be that hard.”

He chuckles. “All right. If you think you can play with the big boys.”

“Stop being sexist and give me a damn controller.”

We battle it out for a half hour before Travis struts in the living room in a pair of low-riding jeans. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from commenting, but it’s a hard task. I hate it when he walks around shirtless, showing off the outlines of his taut muscles and the V that runs below his waistline.

As if he could be any more of a walking, talking cliché, he has a sleeve of tattoos on one arm and half a sleeve on the other. I catch myself admiring it more than I should, so I quickly look away before he notices.

“What’s up, V?”

“Why don’t you tell me, asshole? Your clothes almost done?”

“Not washing clothes,” he says flatly, but I see the corner of his lips turn up slightly.

“Then what are you washing? You know I do my laundry here on Wednesdays.”

“My sheets.” He grins, and I have to swallow back a gagging noise. “I have a guest coming over soon.”

“Well, if you’d slow down the parade of visitors, we wouldn’t have this conflict.”

“Or you could do your laundry somewhere else, and we wouldn’t have a conflict at all.”

I set the controller down on the coffee table and walk toward the kitchen as he walks toward the couch. “You’re such a disgusting manwhore.”

He sits in my spot and calls out, “Aw, is someone jealous?”

I roll my eyes so hard, I swear they might fall out. “Suck a d**k, Travis.” I grab my basket and walk to the basement door.

“I was hoping that was your specialty!” I hear him yell out, but as soon as he does, I hear Drew’s fist collide with his shoulder.

“Dude, quit hitting on my sister.”

“In his dreams!” I yell out, opening the door and stepping down the stairs.

God, I can’t wait until I have my own place and can limit these not-so-lovely visits.