Page 77 of Rise of the King (Checkmate 5)

“You do.” I unsnap my jeans and push them down far enough to free my cock. “I know you do. My beautiful ballerina is in love.” Lining my cock up, I slam deep inside and grit my teeth before I explode. Soph reburies her face in the pillows and lets out a muffled scream. “You don’t even have to tell me. Love isn’t words, Soph; it’s feelings; it’s actions.” I slam in until the tip of my cock touches her womb and her breath comes out on a pained gasp, then I slide back out again and grunt at her pleasure-filled whimpers. “Love is racing toward a burning building to save the girl, or running away from bullets and using your body to shield your man. Love is burgers at midnight, milkshakes at three, and holding my hand when I can’t fucking breathe through faulty lungs. Love is dancing for me, Soph, even though you don’t wanna, but you know it makes me happy to see you stand on your toes.”

“Oh my God.” Crying out, she fists the covers and pushes back against me as I continue to assault her body. “Don’t stop, Jay. Please don’t stop.”

“Won’t stop, beautiful.” I grab her hips and use them like handles. Pulling her back at the same time I push forward, we slam together and drag ourselves closer to the edge. “You don’t have to tell me, because I know how you feel. And it’s okay.” I lean forward and bite her shoulder blade. “Because I love the fuck outta you, Sweet Sophia.” Letting go of her hip, I slide my thumb over her asshole, then in. “Come now, Soph. Squeeze my cock dry.”

* * *

Soph and I fell to bed around one with exhausted bodies and giddy smiles, but by three, I’d slept my two hours and felt guilty waking her for more.

So pulling on sweatpants and my beanie as a type of shield for some asinine reason, I closed the bedroom door and made my way to the kitchen to start the coffee.

Three in the morning is a lonely time. It’s deathly quiet, cold, and no one is stirring for hours. But I sit in my chair by the window with my laptop in hand and watch Kane’s dark kitchen. I wait, watch, and I battle an internal war that feels an awful lot like jealousy.

Lights switch on earlier than usual this morning, though it’s not unexpected, since they’re heading out for their road trip. Jess’ sister, the sad twin, is first up, then Jess. Kane moves into the kitchen last, but he’s not sluggish. He’s not sleepy.

He’s just not on full alert anymore like we used to be.

In his mind, he’s free; he’s living the domestic life with his girl, and he has no clue someone in the world is looking for him right now. He has no clue they have his head in their scope, so despite a little noise in the middle of the night, he finds no reason to worry.

Just before the sun comes up, while Jess chugs an energy drink and chases it with a cup of coffee, and Kane follows her around with a goofy grin on his face and trouble in his eyes, the other twin, the one they’re harboring while she heals from being a club whore, makes her way into the yard with her arms loaded with bags.

I glance away from my laptop to instead watch her through the lace curtain as she slowly moves across the lawn toward her shiny classic car. I hold my breath as she approaches the driver’s side, unlocks the door, and pulls it open. She grunts and works on getting the soft top back, then dumps her bags in the backseat and stops to smile at the horizon.

I don’t recall ever seeing her at Abel’s club, but there were a million women there, half of them were blonde, and Abel continued shoveling drugs into my system to make sure I couldn’t focus on much more than my next hit.

Laine Lenaghan stands beside her car and rubs her arms in the early morning chill, but her smile remains.

It’s almost like… freedom.

She’s dropping the shackles that’ve held her hostage for so long.

“Your blonde sure is pretty, huh?”

I swing my head around and smile when Soph walks into the living room dressed in sweatpants and a bra. It’s not a fancy bra, no lace or crystals, but a sports bra with the crisscross back and all the support for the times she likes to dance and jump when she thinks I’m not watching.

She says she doesn’t like to dance, because it’s somehow disrespectful to her sister who will never dance again, but when she has five minutes alone, when the exact right song comes on her playlist and she allows herself the freedom, she lets go of her own shackles and starts floating as though gravity doesn’t govern her the way it does the rest of us.

“Mornin’, Sophia Solomon. You’re up early.”

She walks straight ahead and slides onto the arm of my chair. Smiling, I push my laptop aside and pull her into my lap so she can snuggle in. “Hey.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “You okay?”

“Mmhm.”

“It’s early. What gives?”

“Knew you’d be up,” she yawns. “Knew Kane was leaving today.”

“So?”

“Didn’t want you to be alone when he drove away.”

Yeah. I let out a contented sigh.She loves me.

“That’s very wise and peaceful of you, Sophia.”

Snickering, she pulls her feet up so her knees rest against my chest and her hair tickles my nose. “They say my name means wise and peaceful. It’s what I do: I take care of my man.” The deep rumble of a classic Charger starts across town and echoes straight through to my chest. Laine’s head comes up outside, and a smile crosses her face. “Uh oh,” Sophia mumbles. “The guy who stole your brother is coming to steal your girl.”

“Asshole.”

---