by EM BROWN
He pushed himself into her. Bloody marvelous.
She tried to stifle a groan but cried out when he buried most of his length. He grabbed her wrists and held them together behind her back with one hand. The other he put over her mouth before pulling her the rest of the way onto his shaft.
She protested into his hand, but her words were unintelligible. He thrust at the angle that was best for her pleasure. More of her wet heat engulfed his cock, coaxing him to pound himself into pieces within her. He worked his cock in and out till he felt her body straining towards climax. Then he started bucking his hips a little more forcefully, driving himself deeper.
He kept his hand tightly over her mouth as he fucked her over the bathroom sink. He stared at the mirror, reflecting their bodies joined together. Her eyes were wide, and she breathed heavily through her nose.
“I can’t wait to take you in the arse again,” he murmured as he smacked his pelvis into her buttocks. “You liked it when I did, didn’t you?”
She only grunted.
“Answer me, pet.”
“...Mmmmphs.”
He took that as a yes and rolled his hips into her. Her lashes fluttered, then her eyes rolled toward the back of her head. She looked so hot.
She made more noises into his hand, eventually becoming one long note as she trembled and bucked against him. He slammed into her harder, faster, pummeling her buttocks with short, fast thrusts till he, too, erupted, pumping his seed into her waiting heat.
“You are fucking amazing,” he murmured into her ear before releasing her wrists and dropping his hand from her mouth.
“Oh my God,” she exhaled as, legs trembling, she braced herself against the sink.
He replaced his cock and zipped up his shorts. “I’ll let you finish going to the bathroom, and don’t worry about Bataar. I don’t think he heard anything since he’s wearing his Beats.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Bataar might not have heard anything, but Kimani was sure he was aware that the two of them had been in the bathroom for some twenty minutes. He didn’t look her way, however, when she emerged from the bathroom. She took a seat beside Ben.
“So the sex that just happened,” she began. “Was that farewell sex?”
Ben fixed his gaze on her, his expression unintelligible. “What do you mean?”
“Are you giving me back to Jake when we reach the cabin?”
He stared at her in for several long seconds. “It’s against the terms of the Scarlet Auction. But, no, I’m not giving you back.”
She sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
“You’d be violating the terms, too, so I’m not sure how that’s going to play out for you where the Scarlet Auction is concerned.”
“I’ll take the consequences if I don’t have to deal with Jake.”
“What would have happened if I hadn’t decided to buy you from him?”
She pursed her lips in thought. “I probably would have called it quits. It’s not worth it.”
“What’s not worth it?”
She sucked in her breath. “The money.”
“Just the money?”
“What else would there be?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out her pen. “This?”
She stared at in disbelief. He had it this whole time?
“You want to tell me about the pen and what makes it so special?” he asked. “I know it doesn’t have anything to do with luck.”
She swallowed with difficulty. Could he possibly be on to her?
Yes.
She wasn’t sure how much he knew, but when she dared to meet his gaze, she saw that she couldn’t dismiss him with another lie. She reached for the pen, but he held it out of reach.
“How badly do you want this pen?”
Not knowing what exactly had been recorded, she couldn’t say for sure. She replied, “It depends.”
“On what?”
Should she tell him? What would happen if she told him the truth?
Various memories came back to her, of him questioning her about graduate school and what career she saw for herself. Had he suspected something all this time? If so, maintaining the lie would only raise his ire.
He wasn’t giving her back to Jake. He had a business deal with the guy that might be in jeopardy if he didn’t stay in Jake’s good graces, but Ben was willing to risk it to keep her. Maybe she owed him the truth, or at least part of it.
He knew her pen was no ordinary pen, so she should probably come clean on that.
“It depends on what’s on the recording,” she said at last.
He appeared unsurprised, confirming her thought that he knew what the pen was about.
“Nothing criminal. Just eight consenting adults engaged in role-playing.”
“You mean when the women were made to act like pets?”
“Yes. You want to tell me why you were recording all of us?”
What if what she said upset him? Would he change his mind about returning her to Jake? She could always leave. Worst case, she wouldn’t get her story. And maybe it would take her longer to get a job at a place like the Tribune, but it wasn’t like her whole future hinged on whether she got the scoop on the Scarlet Auction.
A part of her wanted to tell Ben, too. She was tired of the charade, tired of dancing around his questions. She wanted him to know the truth.
“Do you mind if I use your phone to text someone?” she asked. “Then I’ll tell you more.”
“Let me guess: you’re texting Sam.”
She nodded. He did nothing, and for the moment, she thought he would refuse, but he handed her his cell. She typed the following:
This is Kimani. We’re heading back to Jake’s cabin in Trinity County. Will contact you again when I arrive.
“You want to tell me who Sam really is?” Ben asked after she had returned his phone.
“I’m not in the Scarlet Auction for the money,” she said, then took another long deep breath. “I’m working on a— My roommate participated in the Scarlet Auction not too long ago. She got beaten up badly by some creep not unlike Jake. I’m investigating the Scarlet Auction so that what happened to my roommate doesn’t happen again.”
“Investigating for whom?”
“For the public.”
“And Sam?”
“Sam is...someone who can help me. We’re thinking of putting together an expose on the questionable practices of the Scarlet Auction.”
“I’m not interested in appearing in any expose.”
“Oh, we’d change people’s names to protect the innocent.”
“Is your interest only in the Scarlet Auction?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not investigating me or my family?”
“My interest is preventing another woman from getting beat up. I swear.”
He stared hard at her, as if he were trying to see into her. “You’re very dedicated to this expose.”
“What do you mean?”
“Or is sex with a man you barely know pretty commonplace for you?”
She flushed. “I wasn’t planning on having any sex.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because...”
Because you came along. You and your—the things you do.
“Because you messed everything up,” she finished.
At that, he laughed.
“Seriously,” she said. “You’ve compromised me. I don’t know how much of a story I can get out of this now.”
“Would you like to be compromised some more?”
Yes, yes, yes!
She scolded herself for being a crazy sex friend. Glancing at Bataar, she saw a faint grin on his lips. Turning back to Ben, she said, “You one of those guys who thinks about sex every seven seconds?”
“When I’m with you, pet. The thing is, I don’t think you’re far off seven seconds yourself, babe.”
She turned redder. ’Cause he was right. Right now, if he commanded her to jump his b
ones, she just might do it. Bataar or no Bataar.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Jake took his slut to Weaverville,” Vince informed them as Ben and Kimani stepped inside the cabin. “Everyone else is out on the boat.”
“I’m going to get myself some water,” Kimani said. “You want some?”
Ben nodded, his attention half on Vince, a tall, bulky guy who seemed to serve as security for Jake but also ran errands, like picking up lunch.
“Jake should be back soon,” Vince said before leaving the two of them alone in the main room.
While Kimani filled two glasses with water in the kitchen, Ben went out on the deck to take a call from Uncle Gordon.
“Ben, what do you know about the PAC called Oakland Forward?” Uncle Gordon ask.
“It’s an independent expenditure chaired by Ezra Rosenstein,” Ben answered. “Why do you ask?”
“You didn’t see the article?”
“What article?”
“There’s an article today in the online edition of the Tribune. Nothing major, but I got a call from the FPPC about it.”
“What’s the FPPC?”
“The Fair Political Practices Commission, a state agency that oversees the laws governing campaigns. I think they’re launching an investigation.”
Ben was silent for several seconds. “What did they ask?”
“They wanted to know what your involvement with the PAC was, what sort of communications my campaign has had with Oakland Forward. I said I didn’t know you were involved with the PAC, and that my campaign has had no contact with Oakland Forward. But the FPPC isn’t just going to take my word for it.”
“The formation of the PAC was my idea,” Ben relayed, “but I handed everything over to Ezra. I’m not involved with it anymore.”
“I believe you, but the article raises suspicions.”
Ben started to pull up the Tribune on his phone. “Let me read the article. I’ll call you back.”
Sure enough, there was an article on the website for the Tribune describing Oakland Forward as the brain child of Benjamin Lee, nephew to mayoral candidate Gordon Lee. Despite the name of the PAC, the article alleged that Oakland Forward was a developer- and business-based committee supporting Gordon Lee for mayor. According to the article, research on the donors to Oakland Forward were a perfect match to the donors of Gordon Lee’s campaign.
Just as Ben finished reading the article, he got a call from the pollster Stephens had hired to assess the potential impact Ben and Jason’s actions with the Scarlet Auction would have on Uncle Gordon’s campaign.
“You asked me about a pro-business committee supporting your uncle,” the pollster said. “Is this stuff aboutOakland Forward what you meant?”
“Yeah. Uncle Gordon got a call from the FPPC about it. What’s your gut read on this?”
“That it’s worse than any sex scandal involving extended family. Even if the FPPC doesn’t turn up any wrongdoing by Gordon or his campaign, the semblance or possibility of wrongdoing is enough to cost Gordon points.”
Ben could feel himself turning several shades darker.
“The public is used to sexual misconduct. You could be a grandfather banging an eighteen-year-old Russian whore and still get elected to high office. But political misdeeds, especially if the candidate himself could be involved, is harder to weather. Now, I can’t for say certain without seeing numbers, but you asked for my gut read.”
“When can you get numbers?”
“Give me a few days. My callers are still finishing your first inquiry.”
Fuck, Ben swore after hanging up. He stormed inside to find Kimani pulling a pen—the same kind of pen he had asked about on the jet—from a potted plant. She looked up in surprise.
“You swore you were only targeting the Scarlet Auction,” he accused.
She furrowed her brow. “That’s right.”
“Then how do you explain the article on the Tribune’s website?”
Her mouth fell open. She did not have the look of someone who didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.
“What article?” she asked slowly.
“The article your friend Sam wrote about a PAC supporting my uncle.”
Realization flickered in her eyes, evidence that she knew about the article.
“I didn’t know about the article,” she protested.
“Bull. Shit.”
“Look, I, um, I might have been interested—I mean I was open to there being—”
He didn’t want to hear any more. He needed air. Fuck. He wasn’t sure how Kimani had known about the PAC and his connection to it, but it was all his fault. If he had not been so careless around her. If he hadn’t allowed her into his life in the first place. If he had not bought her to begin with.
“I’m going for a drive,” he told her.
“Wait!”
But he was too upset for conversation.
“Ben!”
Without looking back, he stalked out of the cabin. Outside, Bataar was standing next to the rental.
“Start the car,” Ben ordered.
Bataar complied without a word. Ben hopped in the car.
“Where to, boss?” Bataar asked.
Ben didn’t spare the cabin a glance. “For now, head back to the airport.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kimani was at a loss. She didn’t know what article Ben was referring to, but she guessed that Sam had written up something—something that was not to Ben’s liking. And she couldn’t help but feel responsible. If she had never relayed what she had to Sam, there would be no article for Ben to be upset about.
How was she going to make this right?
She sank down on one of the dining chairs and stared at the two glasses of water on the table. Somehow, after owning up to her part in this, she had to convince him that she hadn’t intended to create trouble for him. She desperately wanted to know what was in that article. Had Sam discovered more to write about?
Hearing the front door open, she leaped to her feet, glad that Ben was back so that she could try to explain herself.
But it was Claire who walked in. The young blond looked happy, and she wasn’t naked. So Jake had allowed her clothing for a change.
“Oh! Montana, you’re back!” she chirped. “I got to go shopping like you did! Not the shopping I was expecting because there’s not like a Nordstrom or anything here, but look what Jake bought me.”
She showed off a diamond and emerald ring.
“He felt bad for what happened this morning,” Claire explained. “This emerald was mined right here in Trinity County. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Kimani was about to agree when she heard a voice that sent her hair crawling.
“Well, look who’s back,” Jake sneered.
Every nerve was on edge, but she returned his stare. “Ben stepped out, but he’ll be back—”
Jake took steps toward her. “Actually, Vince told me he left in his car, right after you guys arrived. Guess he couldn’t dump you fast enough.”
She wanted to put the width of the dining table between them, but she didn’t want him to think that she was scared of him. She did her best to draw herself to her full height and square her shoulders, though his advance made her jumpy.
“Must’ve gotten bored of black pussy.”
He was within arm’s reach. Her nerves screamed at her to move away.
“Don’t worry. You can suck real cock now,” he told her.
“Maybe later,” she replied.
He clocked her with a right hook that left her head ringing. Claire screamed but scrambled out of the way.
“Stupid bitch,” Jake spat. “You know, this would’ve all been better if you had been a good little ho and sucked my dick like you were supposed to in the first place.”
She saw his next strike coming, but his fist still managed to glance off her head, sending her sprawling to the floor.
“But I’m going to give you a second chance.” He unbuckl
ed his belt.
Her brain still felt off balance. She tried to focus on what her next move should be. A quick glance at Claire’s stunned face confirmed that there would be little assistance in that department. Therefore, her best bet would be to escape the cabin altogether. She’d rather take her chances in the woods than with Jake. But he blocked her egress.
“What’s the matter?” Droplets of his spit landed on her. “Not ready for real cock?”
To Kimani’s huge relief, she heard Ben’s voice. He had come back!
Jake frowned, visibly upset, but he didn’t budge. “Looking for your Chinaman? I’m done with him. He’s not welcome here anymore.”
She heard Vince’s voice, then Ben’s response.
“So you better suck my cock good,” Jake told her, “or you’re going to be one unhappy nigga.”
The sounds of a scuffle drew Jake’s attention. They heard Vince grunt, followed by the crunch of bones.
Alarmed, Jake ran over to a small sideboard, fished out a key and unlocked the drawer. He pulled out a revolver and slipped in several bullets.
Claire screamed again when she saw the gun.
“Shut up!” he barked at her.
In walked Ben. Kimani’s earlier relief had dissipated now that Jake had a gun pointed at him.
Ben’s quick glance of the surroundings seemed to take in everything, from Claire to Kimani to Jake.
“Put the gun down,” Ben told Jake.
“Where’s Vince?”
“He’s nursing a broken arm. Now, put the gun down.”
Jake’s hand was shaking, and Kimani worried that the gun might go off accidentally.
“No,” Jake replied. “You just get the hell out of my cabin.”
“You going to shoot me if I don’t?”
Jake snickered. “Why not? It’s self-defense. You’re trespassing on my property.”
“Fine. I’ll leave. But I’m taking Jason and her with me.”
Jake looked at Kimani. “She’s not going anywhere. She’s my slut.”
“I paid—”
“I don’t care what you paid!” Jake’s voice had turned shrill, and the shaking of his hand grew worse. “Just get outta my fuckin’ cabin!”
Ben stared at Jake as if doing that alone could get Jake to back down. “You don’t want to—”