Tormented

by EM BROWN

  “He’s such a progressive. Doesn’t seem like the kind of a guy who would approve an upscale development.”

  “He’s supported plenty of condo and mixed-use developments before.”

  “But only those that have APCA’s support,” Gordon said.

  “De Reyes is considering a run for Oakland City Council,” Ben said. “He’s starting to court money interests.”

  “But to go against Dawson?” Kimani queried, wanting to be helpful because she liked Gordon.

  “You know Dawson or De Reyes?” Gordon asked.

  “Not really. I know about them.”

  “What is it you do? Are you in politics?”

  Ben narrowed his eyes. “Yes, what do you do, Montana?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Nothing that interesting. I’m just an office assistant at the moment,” Kimani replied.

  She had already told him that on their first day, but Ben wanted to see if she was consistent.

  “She’s a graduate of Stanford,” Ben told his uncle.

  “Stanford was where I most wanted to go,” Gordon said. “I was waitlisted but didn’t get in.”

  “Their loss,” Kimani smiled.

  “Well, it’s a very competitive school. You should be proud you were accepted. What did you study?”

  “Communications. One of those degrees you can apply to many fields of work but doesn’t actually increase your odds of getting a job.”

  “What is it you would like to do?”

  Kimani didn’t have a ready answer. “I’m open to different possibilities.”

  “Did you go to graduate school?” Ben asked, deliberately putting her on the spot.

  “Um...I thought about it.”

  “Did you do more than think about it?”

  Maybelle returned just then with containers in plastic bags. “I got your extra helpings of sweet potato pie all wrapped up for all o’ you. And, Gordon, no use you trying to pay for your lunch. I owe you more than plates of brisket and corn.”

  “I’m buying,” Ben said.

  Maybelle arched a brow. “You refusing my generosity?”

  “You are too kind, Maybelle,” Gordon said.

  After Maybelle left, Gordon left a sixty dollar “tip.”

  “I should get back to my office,” he said. “I’m expecting a call within the hour. It was nice to meet you, Montana.”

  As Kimani and Ben waited outside for Bataar to pull the car up, she said, “Gordon seems like a great guy.”

  “He would make a good mayor.”

  “I can see that.”

  He opened the door for her. It pleased him that she liked Uncle Gordon, and that she had agreed to come to the lunch. He had expected her to resist, the way she had with the breakfast with Dawson. Maybe the chastity belt had put her in a more submissive frame of mind.

  After getting in the car himself, and before she could buckle her seat belt, he yanked her to him and clamped his mouth down on hers. Though lunch had been more than filling, he was hungry for something else.

  Cupping her head in hand, he smothered her lips till she could barely catch her breath. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasting the faint aroma of bacon from the collard greens. Over and over, he plunged himself into the depths of her mouth and bit her succulent lips, wondering if he could ever get enough of them.

  He pulled her onto his lap and had her sit facing forward, turning her head so he could continue his assault on her mouth.

  “Can’t you—mm—wait till we—mmph—get back to your place?” she murmured against his lips.

  Grabbing both thighs, he spread her legs. He stroked her through the chastity belt. He knew she couldn’t feel his hand through the device, but sometimes thought could create phantom sensations. Shoving his other hand up her shirt, he palmed a breast. He squeezed the delicious flesh, then pinched the nipple, making her gasp and writhe. Her wriggling caused his groin to tighten.

  “You’re so fucking hot when you squirm,” he muttered.

  She stilled, not knowing whether to move or not. He recalled how he had made her come—made her squirt—when he had her in a similar position on one of the lounge chairs at Jake’s cabin.

  “Incoming call from Rosenstein, boss,” Bataar said, ruining the moment.

  Ben had received a call during lunch from Ezra but allowed it to go to voicemail. This had better be bloody important.

  He released his hold of Kimani, and she scrambled back to her seat. He was about to let the call come in on the car’s speaker but decided at the last second to pick it up on his mobile.

  “Ezra, I’m in the middle of something,” he said, adjusting the tightness at his crotch. He imagined making Kimani suck him off in the back of the car.

  “This won’t take long. I just thought it was important to let you know that a reporter came up to me after my talk at a Chamber of Commerce lunch. He asked about our PAC.”

  “It’s not our committee, remember? Who came up to you?”

  “I don’t remember his name. Some fellow from the San Francisco Tribune.”

  Ben looked over at Kimani, who was still a little breathless from his manhandling of her. “What did he want?”

  “He asked a lot of questions, how much we had raised, who was on the committee. He wanted to know what your involvement was.”

  “Why would he think I was involved?”

  “I don’t know. I swear I haven’t mentioned you at all.”

  “Do you think you could track down his name?”

  “I can try. I didn’t stay to get his business card. I just wanted out as fast as possible before he asked more questions.”

  “Get a name and call me back.”

  After hanging up, Ben told Bataar to drive back to the penthouse. He put a hand into his pocket and fingered Kimani’s pen.

  “Do you know how Claire is doing?” she asked.

  Ben dialed Jason, but his cousin didn’t answer. He left a text for Jason to call him back.

  “Are we going to head back to the cabin later today or tomorrow?”

  “You want to?”

  She thought for a moment. “I’d like to.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I feel like I’ve abandoned the other women.”

  “They have plenty of company.”

  “And I left something at in the cabin.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My pen. I couldn’t find it before we left.”

  “I have plenty of pens you can help yourself to.”

  She lowered her lashes. “This one, uh, has sentimental value.”

  “And you decided to bring something of value along on a week of sex?”

  “It’s like a good luck charm.”

  He didn’t tell her that her so-called charm was about to run out of luck.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Something was up. Kimani could sense it. She’d often felt Ben’s penetrating gaze on her, but either it was more intense on the drive back to his place or it was more frequent. Or both.

  Often in these instances, when she met his stare, she could see lust swimming in his eyes. The dilated pools of black made her heart quicken. But his pupils were more constricted at the moment. She found it difficult to swallow. And when he closed the door of his penthouse behind them, she felt as if he were closing her only escape.

  It was just as well. She needed to have her guard up after all that talk with Keisha. At lunch, she had relaxed because of Gordon. Now that she was alone with Ben, she needed to watch herself. She didn’t like that he had left her hot and bothered once again. And even though she wouldn’t be doing anything differently if she didn’t have the chastity belt on, knowing it was there only increased her agitation.

  He did it to deliberately frustrate you. To keep you down and assert his dominance. You don’t want to fall for a guy like that, do you?

  He put the sweet potato pie, his keys, and cell on the kitchen counter before turning to her. Leaning back against the counter, he said
, “There something you want to tell me, Kimani?”

  Kimani. He had used her name instead of calling her “my pet.” Was that good or bad?

  “Like what?” she returned.

  “Like who you had coffee with this morning.”

  Was he jealous? That might explain the tenseness she had picked up on.

  “Just an old friend,” she replied nonchalantly, making sure she stood within leaping distance of the front door.

  “How come you didn’t meet with Sam?”

  She gave him a quizzical look.

  “Your girlfriend Sam, who used to be a man, who was so worried about you that you felt the need to call or text her on a daily basis. You had the whole morning to yourself, and you chose to have your hair done and meet with someone other than Sam.”

  “Oh. Sam doesn’t live in the city.”

  Did he suspect Sam was a boyfriend or lover of hers? She thought he didn’t care if she was in a relationship with anyone.

  Standing up, he tossed her his cell. “Check your email.”

  “My email?”

  “The lab results should be in.”

  Oh. That. Yesterday, he’d had a nurse draw blood. He had not undergone the Scarlet Auction’s STD testing. She had already engaged in some risky sexual activity, but he hadn’t penetrated her yet without a condom.

  On his phone, she navigated to her email service provider and logged in. Near the top of the inbox was an email from a lab. She clicked it and read the message. She wasn’t surprised that all the test results were negative, but it was still comforting to have confirmation.

  “What does it say?” he asked.

  “You’re clean,” she replied as she logged out before tossing him back his phone.

  He took off his suit jacket and hung it over the back of one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. “So how is it an office assistant in a financial firm knows about an Oakland planning commissioner and a Chinatown community leader?”

  “My parents live in Oakland. I guess I heard or read about Dawson and Carlos.”

  Why is he asking so many questions?

  “And why are you so convinced De Reyes won’t go against ACPA?”

  “I understand they’re close.”

  “How close?”

  “Close enough that Carlos won’t go against Dawson.”

  He was staring at her with a mixture of the wolf wanting to eat Red Riding Hood and something else. Maybe she should stop talking. She was trying to be helpful but had the feeling she was going to get herself in trouble somehow.

  “So you know De Reyes and Chang—excuse me, Carlos and Dawson.”

  She faked a nonchalant shrug. “I’m sure a lot of people could tell you that Carl—De Reyes and Chang are close.”

  “Yet no one has. Not even the lobbyist who I’m paying good money for information like that.”

  “Maybe you should get yourself a new lobbyist.”

  He had rolled up his sleeves and took a step toward her. “Or maybe I could hire you. How about it? You tell me exactly what you know. I’ll compensate you what I’m paying the lobbyist. His retainer is twenty thousand a month.”

  Twenty thousand?! Holy crap.

  But there was no way she would divulge what was told to her off the record.

  “I don’t know that much,” she downplayed. “Certainly nothing worth twenty thousand dollars.”

  “Funny that. Most people try to negotiate the dollar amount up.”

  “I’m keeping it real. I’m not going to scam you, even if I did know anything worth paying for.”

  “I’m offering twenty thousand dollars. You were hard up enough for money that you got involved with the Scarlet Auction. I doubt you’ll see twenty thousand from them.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How so?”

  He was closing the distance between them.

  “Mind if I help myself to some water?” she asked, trying to skirt around the sofa and head to the relative safety of the kitchen.

  But he caught her about the waist and tossed her into the leather armchair. He braced himself against the arms, caging her in. “Suddenly you don’t seem to need money so badly.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do all rich people think they can just toss around big numbers and expect they can awe us into getting what they want?”

  “Okay. How about I offer something else instead?”

  He slid his hand up her skirt and along her thigh, making her jump.

  “Like I said, I don’t know anything.”

  Dammit. Her words had come out shaky.

  He leaned in closer. “That’s a lie, Kimani. Do you remember what I do with lies?”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ben stared at Kimani, warmth stirring in his abdomen despite his present vexation with her. She was a good liar but not a perfect one. What were the chances that the Tribune reporter who had approached Ezra was her Sam? And was Sam whom she had met with at the coffee shop? He was ready for answers, and he was going to get them one way or another.

  Scooping her up, he threw her over his shoulder and stalked into his playroom.

  “What the—what are you doing?” she asked, trying to wriggle off him as if she had somewhere to go.

  Once inside the playroom, he set her down. “You like to rack up the punishments, don’t you, pet?”

  She tried to brush past by him to get to the door.

  “Now is that the way for a good pet to behave?” he asked, thrusting her from the door. He wasn’t usually this obstinate, but he’d never had a sub try to escape before.

  “False imprisonment is a felony,” she threatened.

  He raised his brows but decided to call her on her threat. He stepped away from the door, allowing her access. “Go ahead. But if you decide to come back, your punishment is doubled.”

  She stared at the door.

  To his surprise, he grew uneasy about his gamble. His pulse quickened, and he wondered if he ought to have provided her an out so soon. He didn’t want her to leave, but he suspected she had reasons to stay.

  Turning her head, she glared at him. “You know, I was just trying to be helpful. There’s no need to make a mountain out of a molehill.”

  He felt relief. She wasn’t leaving. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to go through with his punishment.

  “I’m the one making a mountain?” he returned. “There a reason you won’t just tell me what you know?”

  She returned his stare in silence. He could see her thoughts churning.

  “Right,” he muttered to himself.

  Stepping to her, he whipped the shirt over her head and pulled it down her arms, stopping at the wrists. Her baps bounced enticingly at him. He twisted the shirt into a knot, locking her wrists together.

  She gasped. “Ow! That’s tight!”

  With one hand on her, he reached over and flipped a switch on the wall. A hook descended from the ceiling.

  Her eyes widened. “What’s going on? What are you planning?”

  He hooked her wrists above her head, causing her to stand on the tips of her toes. Seeing her lithe yet supple body stretched like that, his cock throbbed. Taking a fistful of braids, he yanked her head back so he had easier access to her mouth. His lips descended on hers, hard, devouring. He poured his lust and frustration into the kiss. She couldn’t keep up even if she were trying.

  The heat and wetness of her mouth set him on fire. The problem with feasting on her was that he only got more ravenous.

  But lest he scare her too much, he backed off, softening his kisses, gently biting and sucking on her lips, teasing her with his tongue. To get her where he wanted her to be, he needed to coax her there.

  She gave a sweet moan, evidence his approach was working. He liked to think that he was part of the reason she had chosen to stay. She was obviously receptive to him on a sexual level.

  But as soon as the thought passed through his head, she began to contradict him. She pulled away from his mouth.


  “Don’t— Have you heard back from your cousin yet?” she inquired. “How is everyone doing? How’s Claire?”

  “I haven’t heard back,” he said, trailing kisses down the side of her neck.

  “Can we try them again?”

  “After I’m done.”

  “Done with what?”

  “Done with you.”

  Releasing her braids, he pushed her breasts up for his mouth to caress.

  “Honestly, you don’t have anything better to do with your time? Don’t you have to...work?”

  “Would you rather we go back to talking about Dawson and Carlos?”

  She let out a deflated sigh. He kissed her breasts, then down the slight indent of her torso.

  Unlike other chastity belts that wrapped the waist, the one she wore dipped beneath her belly button like a scoop bikini. Lowering himself, he tongued her belly button then licked the part of the belt covering her clit. She gave a whimper. He caressed her legs, feeling the backs of her thighs, her toned calves. There wasn’t an inch of her that wasn’t divine.

  Standing back up, he cupped her face and went back to kissing her mouth. “You’re so bloody sexy.”

  “You sweet talking me now?”

  He went for her throat, sucking for a longer time than he would have on someone with lighter skin, unless he wanted to leave a hickey. Returning to her breasts, he targeted the nipples this time, playfully licking and nibbling the hardened buds. She shivered. She was surrendering to her arousal. The scent of it made him dizzy with lust. He wondered how long he could last before he fucked her silly. And he could do it without a condom now.

  His hands caressed the belt. “You ready for this to come off?”

  “Hell yes!”

  “Then ask me to fuck you.”

  Her bottom lip dropped.

  He grabbed her hips. “Ask me to fuck you hard.”

  She hesitated.

  Just do it, he said to her silently as he pulled her body against his crotch.

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You get to keep the chastity belt on.”

  “Is there an option C?”

  “Nope.”

  He ground his erection against the belt.

  “Why not?”

  He almost laughed at the rather childish question. She knew the answer. She was just stalling.