The Game (takes place a few nights after William Shakespeare's Star Wars)
She paused and bit her lip slightly. "I miss our games, too."
"You played games with the girls?" Sheldon asked. "Oh, drinking games?"
"No, not drinking games. We're not freshman with fakes IDs," Amy huffed. Then she dropped her eyes slightly. "I meant . . . you and I . . . our games. You know," she shrugged, "when I'm Nurse Chapel or River Song or something."
He stood against the wall of the hallway, in the dark, waiting for her. He liked listening to Amy read the story, her voice soft and low. Sheldon couldn't make out all the words, but he liked hearing the rising and falling of her intonations. Twice, there was a second voice, higher, sharper, the pitch coming up at the end in a question. Ada. He smiled. She was so curious, and her vocabulary was exploding, at least a new word every day now. He had told Amy it was like she was a word monster, and she was eating words alive. Amy had laughed deeply at that, that laugh that made her eyes twinkle and her neck arch . . .
The creaking of the rocking chair, some shuffling, a few firm but loving sounds; he knew there was probably a soft kiss on Ada's hair. Then Amy was at the door, her hand on the light switch.
"Sheldon?" she whispered, shutting the door behind her.
"All is well?" he asked. "And you have nothing else that you absolutely must do this evening?"
Amy's brow furrowed. "Well, there is some laundry to fold. We probably shouldn't let it set in the dryer or it will wrinkle."
"Done. While you were giving Ada her bath." He reached out for her hands and pulled her in closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "How about a game?"
"Mmmmmm," Amy's voice murmured against his face. "What did you have in mind?"
"Something new. Come with me." Sheldon stood up straight, not letting go of her hands, and pulled her gently into their bedroom. He only dropped a hand to shut the door behind them. Then he waved his free hand toward the bed. "Behold."
"Chess?" There was surprise in her voice. He expected it. They played chess fairly regularly; not as much as they did before Ada, of course, but some evenings they would play a game. So the presence of the chess board in the middle of the bed, while not the usual location, was also not entirely new.
Looking at the scene he had arranged, he explained, "Strip chess, Dr. Fowler. Every time I take one your pieces, you take take off an article of clothing."
A deep, throaty sound of approval came from Amy. He had made the right decision. Amy mentioned, during Book Club, games they had previously played. But he knew his wife: she liked to be surprised, and she liked to try new things. She asked, "But what if I win?"
He turned his head to look down at her with a raised eyebrow. "As I'll be naked, I don't think I'll be in a position to argue with your terms of surrender."
Amy looked up at him, her eyes ablaze. "Oh, it will be unconditional."
"I should hope so." He tugged gently at her hand. "Shall we?"
His wife giggled like a school girl and practically skipped toward the bed, sitting gently on her side, careful not to upset the board. He took his own side. "Can we make an agreement that our shoes will be the first to go?"
"Yes," Amy said. "I see that I'm white."
"Ladies first."
"That's always the best bedroom etiquette," she said, surveying the board.
Sheldon raised his eyebrows. Yes, he should have expected some verbal sparring from Amy as well. He was already worried about his ability to concentrate on the game with his wife gradually wearing less clothing, but now he saw she was going to attack him on more than one front. Clever, clever, Amy.
She moved a pawn forward. "Are we announcing?"
"If you want." He moved a pawn. White pawn, black pawn. The opening moves would go quickly, he knew. Neither of them were announcing yet, maybe they wouldn't. Amy was concentrating deeply on the board, though; that probably did not bode well for his chances -
"I take your pawn at d5," she said calmly, lifting his defeated little piece off the board.
How did that happen? So quickly? She hadn't even spoken, but she still managed to distract him!
"Don't look so surprised, Sheldon," she smirked. "I said unconditional." The she sighed. "I'm regretting the shoes first agreement now."
Smiling back, Sheldon turned around to untie and drop a shoe to the floor. He turned back around.
"No, both," Amy said, shaking her head.
"But they are two separate things!" he protested.
"No, they're a pair of things. Like a pair of pants or a pair of underwear. And it's impossible not to take those off in their entirety."
How was it possible she was fully dressed and still managed to look so naughty?
"That's because a pair of pants and a pair of underwear are misnomers," Sheldon said.
"I was promised naked when I defeat you. Get cracking," Amy said.
Sheldon turned back around quickly, both to remove his other shoe and to hide his smile.
"Okay, where were we?" he asked when he turned back to the board, rubbing his hands together. No more distractions. Feeling bold, he took her pawn with his king.
He had expected her to gasp at his sudden, decisive move. Or at least say something sarcastic. But, no, she silently twisted so that she could stretch her legs out on the bed. Slowly, she ran her hand down her hip, her knee, her thigh, the curve of her calve, her ankle . . . Sheldon watched her repeat the actions on her other leg, and he had to swallow. Oh dear. And they're just shoes!
Amy's face betrayed nothing as she turned back to the board and moved another pawn. His knight, her knight. His bishop, her bishop. His pawn, her pawn. The silence, the tension, it was already killing him. Then she castled! Amy, generally, was not a big fan of castling. She was stepping outside of her usual playbook tonight. He called his other knight into the fray. She brought in another bishop. Ah, she was thinking too far ahead! He took one of her pawns with his. He saw her eyebrows go up slightly. Gotcha!
"Requests, Dr. Cooper?" she said with a smile.
He just waved his hand. Amy reached up to the top button of her cardigan. Slowly, she released it. Then the next. He watched her fingertips, the way she gently caressed each button before she grasped it, how smoothly she slid it into the . . . did she always undress this way? No, surely not, he would have noticed before. But each button became an exercise in an erotic metaphor. Sheldon felt very warm. He knew, even though he was watching her hands, that she was staring at him. Then, at last!, the buttons were done. Slowly, she slid one sleeve off her arm and then the other. She held the cardigan away from her.
"Like this?" she asked coyly as she dropped it on the floor. "Is that what you meant by stripping?"
"It was acceptable," he managed to croak.
"Maybe you could give me a demonstration," she said suddenly, as her hand shot back to the board to capture one of his pawns.
Sighing, he shifted to take off his socks.
"That wasn't very sexy," Amy said, her voice pouting.
"They're socks. Socks are not sexy by definition. Neither are feet," he said, turning back around.
"Well, you know what they say about men with long feet . . ." she let her voice trail off as she wiggled her eyebrows.
His heart pounding slightly, he ignored it. She was just trying to antagonize him into losing. He may have let her believe he was going to be naked by the end of this, but he was still determined to win. After all, to the victor went the spoils. He moved his second bishop. She moved a pawn in too close for comfort. He moved his bishop away. Her knight moved closer. His king backed away. She chased him with her knight, and his king retreated again. Amy was playing very aggressively.
Too aggressively. Just as she moved her white knight to e5, he saw his opening. He took her bishop with his own. He met her eyes over the board, his hand still gripping her piece. "Tights," he instructed.
Her green eyes met his definitely. She seemed to be seriously considering whether or not to comply. Then she surprised him by getting off the bed and standing next to it, instead of turning around to remove them as he expected. She reached up under her skirt, pulling it up, and tugged on the waistband of her tights. For a second, Sheldon saw a flash of her underwear. Oh, help me, it's leopard print day. She put a foot up on the bed and slowly rolled one leg down, the other pulling down with it. Her foot arched as she stepped out, her red (red!) toenails flashing. Then the other leg, even more unhurried than the first, and it was even sexier without the tugging of the other leg in the way. Her skirt still pulled up, her beautiful, creamy, curvy legs . . .
Then she was back, surveying the board again as though nothing had just happened. As though she unrolled her stockings like that everyday, dripping seduction.
"Hmm, where was I?" she mumbled, tapping her lips with her index finger. "Oh, yes, this."
Before he knew what had happened, his bishop was gone. "Pants," she ordered.
"But, Amy . . ." he whispered, knowing just how exposed he would be after her little performance.
"Pants."
Why is this so embarrassing? he wondered as he stood and turned away from her. The cooler air hit his legs. Amy had seen this hundreds of times. Seven hundred and forty-five. Not that he was keeping count or anything. He turned around, and the corners of Amy's lips turned up.
"Hush," he said. "It's not funny. It's a purely biological response to -"
"No, it's the goal, Dr. Cooper," she cooed. "You know, I wouldn't think you were any less of a man if you just wanted to concede defect. It's one of the arts of war, knowing when you've been bested by a superior opponent."
"I've not been bested! No matter what it looks like!"
"Prove it," she said with a knowing smirk.
The challenge in her voice was almost as bad watching her remove her tights. His underwear strained further. Rapidly, he castled. It was actually one his favorite moves, the only time it was legal to move two pieces on the board at the same time. He liked the efficiency. Amy moved a rook. He moved a rook. She moved a bishop. Sheldon moved a bishop. She took his knight.
Sheldon groaned. "I suppose you'll say my tee shirts are a pair of things, too."
Amy screwed up her lips in contemplation. "No, I'm feeling generous toward the weaker army. Just one will be fine."
He separated the hems of his tee shirts and lifted the outer shirt over his head. Get it together, Cooper! It may be a sex competition, but it's still a competition! He threw the shirt onto the floor.
Feeling vindictive, he swiftly took revenge on the bishop that had just taken his knight. But Amy didn't seem bothered in the least. She just smiled and stood, reaching for the button on her skirt.
"No -" Sheldon put out a hand "- your blouse."
Amy raised her eyebrows, but moved her hands up to the top button of her blouse. He knew he would never win with Amy's beautiful, full hips and leopard print panties winking at him. Even though he was certain of what she was about to do, and he didn't want to watch, he couldn't tear his eyes away. Again with the caressing, her fingers encircling the edge each button before she guided it . . . and was she humming? This is hopeless. He shifted uncomfortably on his side of the bed.
Sitting back down, leaning over the board far more than he thought was necessary, her round breasts heaving over the cups of her bra, Sheldon wondered why he ever thought that would be less distracting. He was still watching the line of her cleavage when Amy moved a piece. Startled, he looked back down at the board. It took him a second of memory recall to realize she had moved her knight. Away from him. Was she feeling intimidated now? Sheldon moved a rook. And she took his last remaining bishop with a knight! She wasn't feeling intimidated, she was calculating all along!
Maybe he gapped at the board for a bit too long because Amy asked, gently, "Sheldon?"
He shook his head. "I know." He reached down and lifted off his blue undershirt. How had this happened? How did Amy still have three articles of clothing and he was left hiding - not very well - in only his underpants? Wait a minute! "Amy, it just occurred to me this game is skewed in your favor. You have one additional article of clothing."
"Ah, it just occurred to you, did it?" she asked, her smirk having returned. "I guess you'll have to work harder -" he saw her eyes flick downward, which did not help at all - " to even the odds."
Quickly, he took her knight. "Like that?"
"That will do," she smiled. She stood and unbuttoned her skirt. She took so much time with the zipper, Sheldon thought the sound might be the ripping of his determination to see this game through and not just take her immediately. Then she had the nerve to actually shimmy out of her skirt, kicking back her leg at the end to send it flying away from her.
Sheldon groaned and shut his eyes. He was never going to make it to the end of this game. He no longer felt like he was at war with Amy's chess pieces, he felt like he was at war with himself. He wanted - no, needed - to complete this game, but he wanted - oh, how he wanted! - to have his way with those leopard print panties!
Amy got back on to the bed and sat cross legged across from him. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a deep, long breath.
"Yes, Sheldon?" she asked.
"Nothing," he lowered his head, determined to look only at her twinkling eyes and no further. "Your move."
White rook. Black pawn. White king. Black king. White pawn. Sheldon saw his opening and took it; he attacked her pawn with his rook.
"Well played, Dr. Cooper. The odds are now even." She reached behind her and unhooked her bra. But she didn't let it fall. She used one arm to press the cups in place as she lowered one strap. Then she switched arms and repeated the action on the other side. Now, just holding her bra in place, she said, "Maybe some music?"
Before Sheldon could ask exactly what she meant by that, she said cooed, "Bow chicka wow wow."
Then her bra was flung off her chest and she actually twirled it, swinging it above her head in the air, before throwing it across the room and over his head. Sheldon put his head down into his hands and took a deep Kuliner breath. He heard a rustling on the bed, and he jumped when Amy's fingers lightly touched his arm.
"Sheldon? Are you alright? Do you want to stop? I was trying to make it fun, it's what I thought you wanted. But maybe this is too much for you."
Putting his hands down, he looked into her beautiful green eyes, flecked with worry. "I'm sorry, I do want it to be fun. And . . . parts of it are. I don't know what's wrong with me. We've been doing this for almost five years now, and I'm acting like I'm seeing you naked for the first time. I can't decide what to do. I want to finish the game. But I want to make love to you. I think this was a bad idea. I can't complete both at the same time."
Amy smiled softly. "Yes, you can."
"I can? How?"
"Like this." Then, carefully, she picked up the board and the pieces and gently placed them on the floor beside the bed.
"Amy, I fail to see how -"
"Shhhhh," she whispered, coming up close to him again. "Use that big, beautiful mind of yours." She rubbed her hand along his hip, and hooked her thumb finger under the waistband of his white briefs. "White rook takes black rook at d5."
Sheldon watched her with wonder as he leaned back to allow her to remove his underwear. Oh, how he loved this woman! It was so simple, so obvious, with her showing him the way.
"Black pawn takes white rook at d5," he said as she crawled over him, and he slid his hands into her panties, squeezing her bottom before pushing them down her hips.
Amy barely touched his lips, whispering, "White pawn moves to b3."
He kissed her back, harder, trying to push his gratitude into her. Finally, he broke it. "Black queen moves to h8."
Rubbing his nipples, she said, "White king takes black pawn at b6."
"Black rook moves to g8," Sheldon moaned.
Amy learned down to rub her chest against his, and he could feel her erect nipples tracing his own. "White king to c5."
"Black pawn to d4." He pulled her face down and kissed her deeply, stroking her tongue with his own. She rewarded him with a deep moan before pulling away, turning her head, rushing through the words, "White knight to d6," before she kissed him deeply again.
"Black pawn to f4." A series of gentle kisses along her jaw.
Sheldon gasped when she grasped him. "White knight takes black pawn at b7."
Groaning, he said, "Black knight to e5."
She "White" sucked "king" on "to" his "d5" earlobe.
"Black pawn to f3," he almost screamed, batting her hand away from his arousal. "That's too much." This whole sexy chess game was turning him on so much, he couldn't take much more from Amy or it would be over too soon, and long before she got her checkmate.
"Sorry. White pawn to g3."
He gently but firmly gripped her shoulders and rolled her over on her back. "Black knight to d3."
"White rook to c7," Amy replied, pushing his hand down where she wanted it.
"I believe that's my move," Sheldon whispered.
"Well, then, take it."
"Black rook to e8." He teased her, running his fingertips through her wiry hairs.
"Pleassseee" she begged.
"Let me in," he whispered back, putting his head down to kiss and suck on her breasts.
"Ohhh, white knight to d6."
"Black rook to e1." He slipped his fingers deep inside of her. "All the way across the board."
Amy moaned, long and low. "Queen to h2."
"Oh, the queen is on the move, is she?" he brought his thumb in, to knead where she liked to be touched. He watched her, the way her neck and back arched, her stomach contracted. He watched for a quite awhile before he spoke. "Black knight to f2."
"White - knight - to - I -don't - know - f7," Amy barely managed to get out.
"Black queen -" he leaned closer to her and pressed harder with his index finger "- at g7."
"Yes, yes!" Amy screamed. Sheldon smiled deeply, watching her, listening to her. It was as though her whole body elongated when her climax took her, as she stretched out beneath him. Once she opened her eyes again, he kissed her softly. "White always goes first."
Amy smiled and stroked his hair. "White knight to g5."
Sheldon moved over her, resting his legs between hers. "Black queen to h6."
"White rook to h7," Amy answered, drawing him in.
"Oh, Amy," he moaned and kissed her, chess almost forgotten in this, this feeling, this love for her. He enjoyed loving her for a while, the way their breath was coming in unison, when it occurred to him the game was at a stalemate, there were no more winning moves.
Amy reached for his face and kissed him softly. "Sheldon," she murmured into his lips.
With that, he knew he had already lost. He had already surrendered. Unconditionally. To Amy. Except it felt exactly like winning. He brushed her cheek with his own and whispered, "Amy . . . my queen."
AN: I have not advertised this fact, but the truth is I will take suggestions for After Dark along with book suggestions for Book Club. Tonight's After Dark is brought to you by a suggestion from AnotherBritFan, who thought perhaps a game of chess as foreplay might suit our Shamy. I'm not sure it worked out like any of us planned (myself included), but here it is. Thank you in advance for your reviews!