“We’re not,” Keira says, leaning into him. “I’ll go in and give her a kiss, and if I have any inkling there’s something wrong, we’ll call him. Deal?”
“Fine,” Mount grunts out.
He might be ruthless, but that child is lucky as hell to have a daddy who cares about her so much, I think as Keira disappears inside.
Mount grills Moses about every moment we spent with Rory while they were gone until Keira comes back out.
“She’s absolutely fine. Now, let’s let these two get off to bed. Thank you both so much.” Keira steps toward me and wraps her arms around my neck. “Thank you, babe. I appreciate you.”
I’m pretty sure Mount wants to drag her away from Moses as she does the same with him, but miraculously, he controls the urge that seems to be barely contained beneath the surface.
After we say our good-nights, Moses and I walk hand in hand back to the room where we’ve taken up temporary residence.
Once inside, I strip off my shirt. “My turn for a shower.”
Moses comes up behind me. His big hands curve around my shoulders and his thumbs dig in, massaging the tension out of my achy muscles. It seems to be my new normal, but I melt under his touch.
“God, that feels good,” I murmur as I stretch my neck to one side and then the other.
When I’m utter putty in his hands, he gives me one more squeeze and presses a kiss to the nape of my neck. “Go shower. I’ll set up a game, if you’re down to play.”
I turn in his arms and lean against his solid warmth. “I’m always down for a game with you, Moby. I’ll be right out.”
Less than ten minutes later, I step out of the bathroom wearing only my towel.
Moses is carrying two glasses of amber liquor that I’m sure is Seven Sinners over to the table set for our game.
His vivid green eyes lock on the knot tucked between my breasts, and he licks his lips like a hungry wolf. “On second thought, this should be a game of strip chess. With you wearing just that. Seems fair, considering you’re still that much better than me.”
The devil on my shoulder is completely responsible for my answer. “Do I lose when I drop the towel, or do I get to keep playing?”
Those eyes of his flare with passion, the gold seeming to glow. “Oh, you’d better keep playing.”
I’m walking a thin line, but I’m not scared. “You think you’ll be able to handle it?”
“I can handle anything you’ve got.” He shifts on his feet as if his pants are suddenly less comfortable. “Do your worst.”
I strut over to the table and lift one of the glasses from his hands before I pick my side. “Then game on.”
Twenty-Eight
Moses
Right now, you might say I’m a foolish man, but I don’t give one good goddamn about it. Not when I’m staring at my woman’s tits while she deliberates over her next move. I’m down to my pants and socks, but it doesn’t matter. There’s no losing in this game. Not when I’m sitting across from Magnolia, a smile on her face, and my dick jerking every time those luscious tits bounce.
Life can be so fucking good.
When she takes my next piece, she smiles at me like a vixen. “Keep stripping, Moby.”
“Happily.” I reach down to tug off a sock and toss it on the pile beside the table.
“You ready to admit your plan backfired something fierce?” Magnolia asks with a calculated gleam in her eye. “Because you sure can’t play for shit when you’re staring at my tits.”
My lips part, a smile stretching across my face as I shake my head. “Backfired? Depends on what you think winning means to me. Because from where I’m sitting, this is the best idea I’ve ever had.”
Her rich, deep laugh sends her chest bouncing, and I reach for a chess piece at random and move it without looking at the board.
“You’re not even trying,” she says through her laughter. “You can’t even make that move with a pawn.”