I don't play fair, remember?
Damon glanced down at the checkerboard between them, then back up at Katherine, a smirk already plastered on his lips. His eyes narrowed with lazy amusement as she dragged one of her pieces across the board and jumped his. “Oh, I remember.” He leaned back in his chair, studying the board with theatrical offense. “I remember the lying. The manipulation. The dramatic entrances. The extremely annoying habit of looking innocent while committing felonies.”
His gaze lifted to hers, darker now, “Apparently checkers didn't make it onto the list of things you do do fair.” Damon reached forward, fingers brushing hers a second too long as he moved one of his pieces into place. Not the best move. Not even close. But it put her hand near his again, which was the point entirely. “You know,” he said, voice dipping lower, “most people just play the game. You treat every little red square like a battlefield.”
He tilted his head, eyes flicking over her face with shameless appreciation. “But then again…” His thumb grazed the edge of one of her pieces before he let it go. “You always did look good when you were trying to destroy me.” Damon moved his checker forward, then settled back into his chair.
“Go ahead, Katherine. Cheat.” His eyes locked on hers. “Just don’t pout when I make you pay for it.”
