"Jameson," I prodded, glancing down at our chessboard. Rather than being distracted, Jameson seemed almost too hyper-focused. "It's your move."
Jameson slowly lifted his chin, eyebrows raised, and smirked. "What kind of a move?"
Before I'd even had a chance to blush, he leaned across the chess board sitting on my bed and kissed the corner of my lips. I stared to get lost in it, which was a mistake.
Because the next thing I knew, Jameson was moving one of his last pieces and trapping my king. Lips twitching, he said, "Checkmate."
"You cheated," I accused, mentally recounting my previous moves. I was almost certain my king wasn't in danger during my last turn.
"No proof, no crime." Grinning, Jameson kissed me. In a swift movement, he placed the chess board on my nightstand. A wicked gleam in his eyes, he said, "Now, for another move . . ."
