Photographer & Designer: Sara Eirew
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Trope: Enemies to Lovers
Titles Included: Checkmate: This is War & Checkmate: This is Love
Series: Checkmate Duet (Travis & Viola)
Author: Kennedy Fox
Release Date: April 5, 2017
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Travis King is the worst kind of asshole with good looks and enough confidence to last two lifetimes.
Viola Fisher is a goodie two shoes know-it-all who prefers fictional love stories over her own.
The only thing they have in common is their mutual hatred for each other.
She’s had a secret crush on him since she was ten but Travis has always made it very clear the feelings aren’t mutual. He’s cruel, crass and takes every opportunity to get under Viola’s skin. She’s smart, beautiful, and too good to be true. Hating him is her religion but needing her is his.
Although Viola loathes his very existence, against her better judgment she let him into her bed. Her sexy curves and filthy smart mouth make Travis want her even more and although she’s succumbed to his manwhore ways, she’s determined to not let that change a thing.
Too bad he has other plans.
Viola’s always been off-limits, but Travis is determined to keep crossing that line. She can try to push him away, but he always gets what he wants and he’ll do anything to prove he’s done playing games.
Until then, they’ll play by their own rules to see who will win the biggest battle yet—love or hate?
*Recommend for ages 18+ due to sexual content and adult language.*
Watching Viola’s cheeks turn bright red gives me a thrill every time. She’s easy to rile up, even easier to embarrass. She pretends to hate me, but let’s be honest, there’s hardly anything about me worth hating. Even when she was just ten years old and we’d just met, I could make her blush without even speaking.
I work out every chance I get, eat right, and work my ass off both in and out of the gym. When I’m not working out or at my job, I enjoy other types of recreation.
Currently her name is Rachel and she’s basically salivating at the mouth as she waits for me to give her what she’s begging for.
I give in, of course.
I’m a guy after all.
When we’re both sated and panting next to each other, I clean up and pull my boxer shorts back up. She curls her body around mine and places a quick kiss on my shoulder. “Are you kicking me out now?” I look over my shoulder and give her a sympathetic grin. “Sorry, babe. No sleepovers.”
That’s not entirely a rule set in stone, but I prefer to sleep alone. Especially if there’s no chance of morning sex the next day. I get up at five a.m. and head to the gym before I have to be to work at eight.
“All right.” She gets up and searches for her clothes. Once she’s dressed, she grabs her purse and walks over for a goodbye kiss. “Call me later.”
“Sure.” I escort her out of the house and kiss her once more before shutting the door. I spin around and nearly run over Viola as she passes in the hall.
“Aw…another victim released. How sweet of you.”
“They aren’t victims if they’re willing,” I retort matter-of-factly.
“Well, they’re airheads if they are.” She continues walking to the kitchen and reluctantly I follow.
“You sure sound pretty envious.”
“It’s not. It’s pity. There’s a difference.” She opens the fridge and reaches for a bottle of water.
“Trust me…she’s not feeling any amount of pity right about now.” I lean up against the doorframe and watch her take a long drink.
“If not pity, then definitely regret. Or perhaps she’s wondering where the nearest clinic is so she can get tested.” She takes another pull of her water and ignores my glare.
“Just because a woman likes sex, doesn’t make her an airhead. But you wouldn’t know that would you? Not when you keep your V-card hostage like it’s a million-dollar diamond.”
“For the hundredth time, I’m not a virgin!” she retorts sharply. “Just because I don’t spread my legs as much as a gymnast, doesn’t mean I’m a prude.”
“Well it sure as hell doesn’t make you a delight.”
She tosses the bottle out and steps toward me, shoving her shoulder against me as she walks past. “Knowing how to use your dick doesn’t make you a god, Travis.”
I spin around and face her as she walks away. “You speak as if you know from experience.”
“Trust me. The walls are thin. The entire neighborhood knows from experience,” she calls over her shoulder.
“So are you saying I should be sorry for knowing how to use my dick?”
She freezes and turns toward me. “No, you should be sorry for anyone that falls for your shit that gets them into your bed in the first place.” She presses her lips together in a fake smile and walks down the hall and back to where Drew is still playing his game.
I don’t know what her problem is, but I’m determined to find out.
It’s already ten o’clock, and I have a long day at the office tomorrow, but I can’t get Viola off my mind long enough to fall asleep.
This never happens by the way.
Okay, well, maybe it does. Only when she gets under my skin, which happens to be all the damn time.
But you can’t blame me. She’s always perfect and proper, never wrong and always knows the answer to everything. She’s that annoying smart kid in class that always fucks up the grading curve for everyone else. The one that wears modest clothes but somehow always ends up looking sexy as fuck.
On the outside, Viola Fisher is the poster child of innocence and purity. But I know better.
Viola Fisher has tattoos and a right hook that could make any grown man cry.
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