Chapter One — Callum
I stare across the table at the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I mean, she’s objectively beautiful, but I’ve come across a lot of beautiful women. She’s special because of how fucking smart she is — which is why I’m playing chess with her right now.
Which is objectively a terrible idea.
Now that I’ve done my research on her, I know she was a chess champion, and even though I’m one too, that makes today’s game choice risky.
Why didn’t I just pick an easier game, one I can be guaranteed to win?
It’s a question I’ve been asking myself, even though I know the answer. The answer is that I need to know I’m better than her.
I need to know I’m better than Alex at chess.
It’s a doubt I never thought I’d have.
I’ve played these games against 29 women before Alex, and not once have I questioned myself. I know I’m better than the women at chess, so it doesn’t matter that I throw the first game. I throw it to put the women at ease. It doesn’t affect my ego or make me doubt myself.
But Alex fooled me at poker. And now that I also know her background as a chess prodigy, I’m suddenly not so sure whether I actually am better than her at chess. I’m 99% sure, but that 1% has been eating away at me in the back of my mind.
So I need to set the record straight, once and for all.
Which is why we’re playing a game I could plausibly lose: Blitz chess. It’s a slightly different variety of chess than what Alex and I played in our first game.
It’s thrilling to actually have some something at stake in one of these games. To feel like I could lose, eventually. Even though Alex isn’t near winning seven games yet, the stakes feel higher than they ever have. Because now my pride is on the line, too. And that’s never happened before.
Alex bites her lower lip, and I feel my cock stir against my pants. Fuck.
I look at her, smiling in that low-cut, loose sundress. Did she wear that on purpose to distract me? It wouldn’t surprise me if she did.
She’s a smart girl — which is one of the big things I like most about her. Fuck. I can’t be thinking like this. I need to focus.
“Ready?” I ask her.
She nods.
“Ladies first.”
She moves a white pawn and presses the timer.
In a game of Blitz chess, each player has five minutes.
You make a move, hit the timer, and then the other person’s timer starts to count down.
You either win before the time runs out, or you lose if your time runs out first. It’s stressful, and there’s no time to think through every possibility — you have to move on instinct.
For the next few minutes, we’re back and forth rapidly. I check the clock. She has two minutes and ten seconds left. I have two minutes and twenty.
Judging by the state of the board, it’s close. I think I have an edge, but I’m not as confident as I usually am. Hell, I’m not as confident as I almost always am. I don’t think I’ve ever played against a girl as good as her.
She’s twirling that green necklace of hers around her finger, chewing her bottom lip. Her clock is ticking down.
“Take all the time you want, sweetheart,” I say. “It just gives me more time to think about your punishment. Have you ever been paddled before, by the way?”
She glares at me.
“Stop talking,” she says. “I need to focus.”
I laugh. “We never said no talking.”
She moves her piece finally and clicks the timer.
“To answer your question,” she says in a syrupy, sweet voice, as I contemplate the board. She nudges one of my feet under the table with hers. “No, I haven’t. But I have to say, I’ve been having dreams lately of lying across a strong man’s lap, being put in my place.”
She opens her eyes wide, and I look at her. It’s obvious she’s goading me, saying things she knows I want to hear. It’s weird though, because we both kind of know what she’s saying is probably true — even if it’s something she’d vehemently disavow if pressed.
I notice she’s pressing her chest against the table; her breasts are squished together. Fuck, she’s actually distracting me now.
“Take your time,” she says, mimicking my voice. “It just gives me more ways to dream up how I’m going to spend that million dollars of yours.”
My competitive spirit kicks back in. I make my move, press the timer, and then we’re back at it, both of us moving rapidly.
After a few more minutes, I glance at the clock. She has eighteen seconds left. I have thirteen. This is going to be close.
I’m close to checkmating her, but one wrong move and things could go sideways.
“Wow, imagine how embarrassing it would be if you lost to a girl,” she says as I quickly survey my options.
I don’t even have time to respond. I make the move, and then it’s her turn.
“Almost as embarrassing as it’s gonna be for you when I’m spanking your bratty little ass,” I say.
Her cheeks flush, and she loses her composure for a second. The clock starts ticking. Better act fast.
She moves her piece and hits the timer. She has three seconds left. It’s over.
I make a move — it doesn’t really matter — and then it’s her turn. She’s nowhere near checkmating me. She makes a move rapidly, a bad one, and on my next turn, I checkmate her.
“That’s game,” I say, leaning back, satisfied.
She scowls at me, but there’s something else in her eyes: respect. Admiration. She’d never admit it, but I can tell a small part of her is impressed. Given her track record, she’s not used to losing either.
“So give it to me then,” she says. “What’s it gonna be?”
“Oh, I’m in no rush,” I say, smiling. “Let me enjoy my victory for a minute, please.”
She rolls her eyes.
“I wouldn’t be rolling my eyes at the person who has your fate in his hands.”
She laughs. “You’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
I laugh back. She’s right, I am. “But it’s more fun this way, isn’t it?”
She smiles. It’s maybe the first genuine smile she’s given me. I like it more than I’d care to admit.
“Let’s take a break for a few hours,” I say. “I need to mull over your punishment. But before then, do you want to go do something?”
She gives me a look. “Like what?”
“I have an idea,” I say.