I loved this week’s theme and couldn’t resist sharing seven paragraphs taken from Unsure, book 1 in my Sure Mastery series released last year. It’s a cold, late December afternoon in Yorkshire, UK. Tom Shore has given Ashley a guided tour of his moorland farm. Now they are back inside, and need to get warmed up a little. Tom suggests a game of strip chess.
He grins, and continues, “Ready to begin, Ashley? Okay then, the rules. For every chess piece of yours I take off the board, or every time I put you in check, you remove an item of clothing. Shoes count as one item. Same goes for me, if you take any of my pieces. Once one of us is naked—and, sweetheart, that’s going to be you—you continue to pay your forfeits by kissing me, until the end of the game. And if I checkmate you, when I checkmate you, I get to fuck you. Agreed?” I can only stare at him, still a little stunned at this turn of events, and not least at the fact that I’m actually intending to play.
I’m not protesting so he assumes my silence to be consent. “Your move, Ashley.” And he sits back to watch me, and wait.
The first three or four moves are uneventful, just pawns advancing across the board towards each other. First blood, incredibly, goes to me as I slide my pawn diagonally across the board to take one of Tom’s. He smiles and takes off his boots before returning the favour and taking my first pawn off the board. My shoes are soon beside his on the floor under the table, closely followed by my socks. Tom’s socks are next as I desperately try to retaliate, but the next thing I know his bishop has shot across the board and I’m in check. The woolly jumper is gone, neatly folded beside me on the sofa. Two moves later and I’m in check again. Now it gets interesting. I hesitate only a moment before unbuttoning my blouse and slipping it off. I fold it carefully and place it on top of the jumper. I glance at Tom.His face is impassive. If the sight of me stripped down to my bra is affecting him at all he’s not showing it. The game continues, and my jeans are soon neatly folded on the sofa as well. Tom’s only reaction is to get up and throw an extra couple of logs on the stove in the hearth. Considerate as well as a decent chess player, it would seem.
The game continues, me now in just bra and pants. I’m glad I thought to put on matching underwear, and I hope that maybe the soft creamy-coloured lace is flattering against my olive skin. Despite the warmth from the log fire I shiver, and Tom glances across the board at me. He smiles. “Nervous?”
“A little,” I admit.
Anything to oblige. My black curtain of thick, waving hair is soon loose around me, a cloak that I know will soon be swept aside. The next couple of moves are uneventful, and then I spot a chance to take Tom’s castle. I do and watch, smug, while he removes his shirt. Then I just stare. His wide, sculpted chest is quite magnificent, hard and masculine, but beautiful too in its solid male perfection. I want to reach out, run my fingers over it, stroke and explore.
Be sure to check out the rest of this week’s Sexy Saturday excerpts. To find them