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Ashlar stone with murky ivy crawling up the façade and some of the windows are painted in red and black colors. The grounds are expansive with carefully cut grasslands and soft maple trees that pop like rubies.
There’s no gate surrounding the place. I think that’s a little bit strange but I don’t say anything. Maybe Axwell is so sure of his own supremacy, he doesn’t need a gate. Removing the helmet, I jump off the bike and I try not to stare directly at the gargoyle above the head entrance. A muscle ticks in Axwell’s jaw and he takes out his key, muttering something about the place not being lived in for months as if he’s worried I’ll hate it.
Opening the door, he ushers me inside and it’s colder than most houses, probably because of its age. It’s a little bit dusty but it’s definitely Axwell’s lair. Back at the other house, he seemed too gigantic for it but among this kind of grandeur and decadence, he looks right at home.
“What do you think?” he rasps, tracing a hand down my back. “Here you’ll have more privacy than if I would have taken you to the compound.”
“You did the right thing,” I assure him and he’s still holding onto my hand. When I move, he moves with me, looming over me like he’s worried I’ll be snatched from him right out of thin air. I wiggle my fingers a little to see if he’ll let go but he just pulls them to his mouth and gives them a kiss and my body floods with warmth.
“Let me show you something I’ll think you’ll like,” he rasps and he all but drags me upstairs and for a second I think he’s about to claim me in his bed but instead he opens up a double door, turning to me with a triumphant look on his fierce face.
It’s a library. And as much as I understand the importance of non-fiction, I wouldn’t say I’m absolutely cuckoo for it but then my eyes land on the chessboard by the window and I let out a squeal.
“Axe!” Delighted, I run over to the window but stumble on the carpet of a polar bear and I shriek. “Oh my gorgeous, I didn’t even notice it.” It’s a wonder I didn’t, considering how big it is and the fact that my foot almost got caught in its open gape.
“I’m glad you did,” Axwell rasps. “I’ll fuck you on that rug later.”
My cheeks fill with heat. He sure doesn’t mince his words or actions for that matter. Still flushed, I concentrate on the chess board, looking at it in awe, until I feel my cheek prickle and I catch Axwell staring at me with a fanatical look in his eyes. I lick my lips. “It’s beautiful.” Obviously it’s antique and handmade. I pick up one of the pawns and roll it around. Possibly even medieval.
“It’s yours,” he says and I grin.
“Can I try it?” He shrugs and I point at the other chair. “Sit down.”
He chuckles hoarsely at my sudden bossiness but he sits. I swallow because this is not like when I play with other guys. They usually fidget nervously or the ultra-competitive ones try to stare me down but Axwell is nothing like them. He’s not even blinking, drinking me in with his eyes in a way that makes me never want him to leave me alone.
“You wanna be black or white?”
He arches a brow. “Black.”
Of course, he wants that. It’s his color and I make the first move. “Are you a good player?” I ask but he shakes his head.
“I don’t like games that have rules. I prefer the ones out in the real world.”
Gulping, I’m reminded of what kind of a man he really is. “Well...I love these kinds of games,” I murmur. “Been playing since I was six years old.” I glance at him and he nods as if wanting me to continue, wanting to hang onto my every word. “My babysitter took me to the park and I saw a couple playing and couldn’t look away. That’s where my fascination started.”
Axwell nods. “Tell me more about your tournaments,” he says, moving a pawn and he’s lying when he said he wasn’t good. That was a nice move.
“Some of them are abroad but it’s not that often. Mostly it’s on home turf.”
“We don’t always allow our women to travel,” Axwell says, “out of security reasons.” He drags a breath. “And I don’t know how I’ll be able to watch you sit across a man, while he watches you.”
Oh heck, here we go again. “Not every male alive feels the same way you feel about me,” I tell him but he doesn’t seem convinced. I know I’m right though because even at the age I’m at, I still haven’t been intimate with anyone and most guys run for the hills when they realize I can beat them in strategy. “You’re going to have to let me have my career.”
He grinds his jaw. “I’ll figure something out.” He brushes his cheek. “Rig the game maybe, to get you out of there as soon as possible. Or send cut off body parts to your opponent, just in case they think of crossing the line.”
I gawk. “Axe! You will under no circumstance do that.” Axwell crosses his arms, practically pouting as if I’m the unreasonable one. “And what do you even consider crossing a line. A man just glancing at me?”
“Knowing your name,” he replies without hesitating and I gawk.
“Why don’t you just lock me up in this house and hide the key?” I mutter but I shouldn’t have said that because he gets a shiny glimmer in his eyes as if the thought is appealing and I cry, “That was hypothetical!”
“Thought it was a suggestion,” Axwell mutters. “A pretty decent one in my opinion.” He seems disappointed and I move a pawn, murmuring,
“Check mate.”
Axwell grins, slowly clapping his hands until his praise almost goes to my head. He leans back in his chair, looking at me as if I’m endlessly fascinating and it makes me prickly with giddiness. Will he always watch me like that? Even when he finds out that there are some things I haven’t told him and that a good girl would?
Frowning a little as if he catches the subtle change in my body, he strokes my hair behind my ear before cupping my face and I never want any other man to cup my face in my life.
