by EM BROWN
The interior housed displays of art, pictures, mining tools and weapons used in the 1854 Tong war.
“A friend of mine carried a small hatchet similar to this one,” said Ben, almost to himself.
“Why would he carry around a hatchet?” Kimani asked.
“He was old-fashioned. Didn't like guns because they were a Western invention.”
“Gunpowder was a Chinese invention, though I guess it was the Europeans who used it for mass destruction and guns. Was your friend extremely paranoid? Or was carrying around a hatchet some kind of alpha guy thing?”
“Chen Kai wasn't more paranoid than the rest of us.”
“Rest of us?”
“When I was young and my father was busy taking the family business to the next level, I started getting into gangs. That's why he shipped me off to boarding school in London.”
“Were you pretty deep in a gang?”
“I didn’t kill anyone if that's what you're worried about.”
It was sort of what worried her. “So what did you do in the gang?”
“Not much since I was still pretty young at the time. Stupid boy shit. Probably got myself beat up more than anything else.”
She had a hard time imagining anyone beating up on Ben. She saw how he moved. Smooth like a ballerina, flowing like one of those dragons in the Chinese New Year’s Parade. She had seen him in nothing but his swim trunks. His muscles were well defined everywhere, not in a beefy way but plenty delicious for her to want to run her hands over the planes and ridges of his chest and torso.
“Did you have to carry a weapon?” she asked.
“I carried a knife and learned how to make myself a weapon through martial arts. The gang was small potatoes, only loosely connected to one of the triads but enough to worry my dad.”
She itched to ask him a dozen questions, which she would have done if she were openly interviewing him, but since she wasn’t, everything was technically off record. She wanted to know anyway but didn’t want to appear prying.
They walked to the area of worship.
“This is so cool,” she whispered of the paper prayers on the walls and intricately carved altars decorated with bold colors of red and gold. “It’s not something I expected to find out here.”
She looked at one of the scrolls hanging from beside the altar. “Do you read?”
After he had translated the Chinese on the scrolls, which talked of the emperor, gods, and devils, she recalled, “One of my dormmates at Stanford claimed to be a Taoist, but he only talked about it in reference to sex. I’m not sure how authentic it all was. Some people thought he was just being an ‘egg.’”
She glanced at him, and it was like walking into a brick wall when she met his stare. At first, she thought maybe he didn’t like that she had used the term ‘egg’ since it was sometimes used in a critical manner to refer to white Asiaphiles, but there was an amused gleam in Ben’s dark brown eyes that told her he was fixed on her, not her words. She could barely swallow. He looked as if he had some secret he may or may not share with her. She wanted to know what it was, even though she was certain that finding out would only get her deeper in trouble.
CHAPTER TWO
By her expression, not unlike a deer caught in headlights, Ben supposed he must have been staring at Kimani like she was a piece of meat he wanted to devour. And he did. On the drive over to Weaverville, he had toyed with the idea of pulling over and making her come all over the car. He was going to make her squirt again, just like he had the night before. The morning swim through the lake’s cold waters had helped clear his head, but spending all that time on the boat and seeing her naked had put him back to square one. Her body had felt so damn good leaning against his.
She stood inches from him looking like a frumpy tourist with her broad-brimmed hat, cheap sunglasses, and khaki shorts. And if there had been no one around, he would have been tempted to rip her clothes off and take her right there in the temple. Or at least feel her up through the thin tank top she wore. He had noticed she had chosen a sports bra, which made her breasts less accessible, but she was wrong if she thought a little sports bra could protect her.
“Sex is an important part of Taoism,” he explained, “and some engage in intercourse as part of a spiritual practice.”
“Really? Sex is usually taboo and wrong when it comes to religions.”
“Taoism isn’t a religion in the same way as Catholicism or Judaism. It’s a philosophy and a way of living. Central to Taoist practice is the care and cultivation of jing, essence or energy. Sex is the joining of this energy.”
She was eying him curiously, as if trying to read his mind. If she could, she would see herself spent and exhausted as he wrung yet another orgasm from her. She had no idea how long a session with him could last. Most women couldn’t keep up, and he wondered how Kimani would fare compared to the others.
“That sounds very holistic, spiritual,” she commented. Then, as if sensing his thoughts, though she couldn’t see them, she turned and stepped away. “Looks like there’s a garden out back.”
A deer leaped over the fence as they strolled outside and to a fountain with a small statue of Kuan Yin.
“’One who listens,’” Kimani read from the plaque in front of the fountain. “Is she a goddess?”
“Sort of. She is an enlightenment being and the gateway to a paradise where souls are reborn with the truth of their eternal nature, compassion and joy.”
“That sounds lovely. You seem to know quite a bit about Taoism.”
He didn’t tell her that it was the Taoist sex practices that had been his primary interest. It was best to stay away from topics of a sexual nature. Any wood would show in his tight-fitting jeans.
Instead, he said “Taoism is embedded in Chinese culture, though much of it was suppressed in favor of Confucianism.”
After they finished their visit at the Joss House, he decided to stop in one of the coffee shops to get something to drink. He wanted Kimani to himself and was in no hurry to get back to the cabin where his cousin, Jason, was probably getting stoned with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. The three of them had tried to convince him to attend the Scarlet Auction to “buy” a woman for the week. He had thought the idea of “buying” a woman stupid—for guys too lazy to get real dates. But the instant he saw Kimani, he had to have her. Or at least he couldn’t let Jake keep her, especially if he was the one that had given her the bruise on her cheek, which had deepened in hue since yesterday.
If it weren’t for the fact that Jake Whitehurst represented players that the coach of the Golden Phoenix wanted to recruit to play in the Chinese Basketball Association, Ben would not have chosen to spend the week in the wilderness of Northern California. But Kimani was going to make it all worthwhile.
At the coffee shop, he ordered two mugs of green tea.
“Green tea?” Kimani echoed in disbelief. “It’s warm out here. I was hoping to get an iced mocha.”
“Green tea is healthier.”
“So is broccoli juice but that doesn’t mean I want to drink it.”
Should he tell her that green tea enhances physical performance or would that scare her off?
“Do you only do what you want?” he returned, taking the mugs of tea from the barrista.
She followed him to a table. “Of course not. I’m not a child. But...green tea? Hot green tea on a sunny afternoon?”
“You’ll get used to it.”
She gave him a small glare as she sat down. He almost laughed when she grimaced into her tea.
“You can have a glass of water after you’ve had some of your tea,” he said.
She blew at the tea to cool it down. “You’re obnoxious.”
“We established earlier that I was an asshole,” he acknowledged before leaning in and lowering his voice. “You came for me anyway.”
She flushed. “Well, that’s because you’re not a complete asshole. Just partly. Maybe a majority. I haven’t decided yet.”
He leaned back in his chair with his tea. She was cute when she was flustered. He knew her type: smart, well-educated, a little arrogant. But she had enough humility inside of her that if she were knocked down from her high horse, she would get up stronger and wiser.
“So what is it you exactly do? Do you work for the Chinese Basketball Association?” she asked.
“You haven’t had any of your tea yet,” he told her.
As he watched her take a sip, he smiled to himself. She was trainable.
“Is that why you’re doing business with Jake?”
He nodded at her tea. “Drink more.”
She took another sip. “So do you?”
“Why are you so interested?”
“Curious. I used to play,” she reminded him. “A part of me wishes I was good enough to play professionally.”
“How do you know you aren’t?”
“I guess if I had tried—but when I was applying to college, the WNBA was struggling, so it wasn’t clear what options I would have playing ball. But I like what I’m doing now.”
He raised a brow. “Working as an office assistant?”
She looked down. “I know that’s not what most Stanford grads aspire to, but it pays the bills.”
“Does it? You wouldn’t have done the Scarlet Auction if you had enough money.”
“Right. I meant my job pays most of the bills. The Scarlet Auction is a great opportunity to make extra cash to pay off student loans and maybe have some fun.”
“What does ‘fun’ entail?”
“Getting tickets to a Warriors game.”
“Is that your favorite team?”
“The Stanford women’s team is my favorite team, but the Warriors are a close second.” She was smiling and looking more relaxed. She even took another sip of tea without prompting. “You didn’t answer my question about working for the CBA.”
“I don’t work for the CBA. My father sponsors the Golden Phoenix, and it’s his pet project to make the team into a championship contender.”
“So when you’re not working on that, what do you do?”
“Mostly real estate developments for the family business.”
“Any here in California?”
“Some.”
“Like in the Bay Area?”
“Some.”
He set down his now empty mug. Unlike most dates, she seemed interested in details. But this wasn’t a date, even though it was beginning to feel like one. He didn’t date because he wasn’t looking to start a family.
“Are they commercial or residential?”
“These days policymakers like to see mixed-use for urban areas.”
“Do you like mixed-use?”
“If the pro forma works, sure. Mixed use is key to smart growth principles.”
Her brows went up. “You care about smart growth?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“I thought...”
“Thought what? That developers are evil and have no conscience when it comes to the environment? That we just care about maxing returns and triple net?”
“What’s triple net?”
“It’s a lease agreement in which the tenant agrees to pay the three ‘nets’ on the property: taxes, insurance and maintenance.”
She seemed to be storing away that bit of information. He was surprised to find himself talking about lease agreements with any woman who wasn’t in the business, but he believed few subjects would intimidate Kimani. And he found he talked rather freely with her. Hell, he had even revealed he had once hung with a gang. He couldn’t remember the last person he had told that to.
Noting that she still had half a mug full, he told her, “Finish the tea.”
She looked him in the eyes. “What if I don’t want to?”
He returned a tight smile. “You sure you want to find out, pet?”
She pursed her lips but lifted the mug. “I’m drinking it because I know it’s good for me.”
He didn’t bother disputing her. If the mug had root beer, she would be drinking it because he had told her to.
After the coffee shop, they walked to the drugstore where she found a package of Hanes underwear, various hair products, toiletries, a notepad, and pens.
“I’ll pay you back,” she said as the cashier rang everything up.
“I got it,” he reminded her.
“I’d rather pay you back. It’s all stuff I would have needed at home anyway.”
He studied her, wondering why she insisted on paying him back when she was financially desperate enough to participate in the Scarlet Auction.
“You’ll pay me back,” he assured her, “just not in the way you think.”
Her lips parted ever so slightly in a frown, and he had to look away before the urge to kiss her took over. As an Asian male and black female, they had received a handful of curious looks about town. He wasn’t going to give them more to gawk at.
“I need something from the hardware store,” he said when they were done at CVS.
She followed him the few blocks and watched him peruse the different ropes available. He looked first at a solid polypropylene braid. It was soft and smooth to the touch and had solidity and weight. But the thickness would make for large knots, so he went for the twisted nylon, which was also soft and smooth. It wasn’t as good as jute, but it would have to do. The white nylon would be a nice contrast against her skin.
“What’s the rope for?” Kimani asked.
He raised his brows. “You don’t know?”
She hesitated. “Is it for the boat?”
“I think you know what it’s for: paying me back.”
CHAPTER THREE
“How much longer before we get to the cabin?” she asked after they had been driving a while. The top of the Jeep was back on, making the space of the vehicle feel smaller.
“About thirty-five minutes.”
She frowned and squirmed in her seat. That was too long to have to hold it. “I shouldn’t have had that tea.”
He looked her over, as if he could assess how badly she needed to go. “I can pull over.”
The thought of having to go on the side of the road apparently didn’t appeal to her. “Let’s just see how it goes.”
“You could masturbate.”
“What? I need to pee, not get off.”
“Getting off will distract you from the urge to piss.”
“No thanks. I don’t want to have an accident in this car.”
“Do it. Masturbate.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
When she didn’t move, he took a hand off the steering wheel. “You want me to do it for you?”
“No, no. I’d rather you focus on driving.”
He didn’t say anything, but there was no way in hell he could focus all of his attention on driving with her masturbating next to him.
“I’ll just go on the side of the road. There’s a clearing up ahead that you can pull into.”
“I’ll pull over after you’ve masturbated.”
Her mouth fell open. She ought to stop doing that. She had no idea how sexy she looked when she did that. He wanted to pull over, but not so she could do her business.
“You’re joking, right?” she asked.
“Nope.”
She crossed her arms. “You just being an asshole then?”
“Yep.”
He could tell his answers annoyed her. “It’s not like you haven’t masturbated for me. You did a damn good job on the boat this morning.”
“If you don’t pull over, I’m going to have an accident in the car.”
“Don’t make a threat you can’t follow through on.”
This seemed to annoy her the most. She glared at him with open hostility.
“You can make this a lot easier on yourself if you don’t fight me. I might reward you for being good by being less of an asshole.”
Her hostility flared even more because she knew she was stuck between a rock an
d a hard place. She didn’t want to cede control, but she didn’t want to provoke his assholeness more. He knew she wouldn’t risk pissing in the car.
“I hope you’re right about this,” she grumbled ruefully as she undid the button of her shorts. She pushed a hand down between those delicious thighs of hers.
Closing his eyes for a second, he imagined her hand at her snatch. Maybe he would take his shaver to her down there. Just to mark her further as his.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?” she spat.
“I want to see what you’re doing, but since I’ve got to keep my eyes on the road, you’re going to have to tell me.”
She gave him a “you’re such an asshole” look.
“I’m touching myself,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Where?”
“Where do you think?”
He slowed the car.
Getting the message, she replied, “I’m touching my clit.”
“With what?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Warning number one: don’t be impertinent with your Master. When I tell you to do something, do it and enjoy it. If I have to give you a second warning, there will be consequences you won’t enjoy so much—at least not at first.”
“I’m touching myself with my fingers. Satisfied?”
“Which fingers?”
“Pointer and middle finger. Mostly the pointer finger.”
“And what is it mostly doing?”
“I’m rubbing it up and down my clit.”
His imagination gave him a nice visual of what she described. “How does it feel?”
“Awkward.”
“I don’t think your clit has emotion. How does it feel physically?”
“It feels like it’s being stroked by a finger.”
“How did it feel this morning?”
She didn’t answer right away.
“It felt good, didn’t it?” he prodded “I want you to feel that again. Your body wants it. You want it. You deserve to feel good.”
His words had lulled her eyes closed, and her body slouched in the seat. He could see her hand moving inside her shorts. Unlike her unzipped shorts, the crotch of his pants pressed tightly against him.