Tormented

by EM BROWN

  “I’ve never had Japanese food like this before,” she said after the soup with bamboo and Wakame seaweed was followed by sashimi with snow crab. “To be honest, the first time I tried sushi, I wasn’t a fan.”

  “I wasn’t either. Most of my family shy away from it, partly because my grandfather refused to touch anything Japanese.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The Rape of Nanjing during World War II. The Chinese government estimates that over three hundred thousand civilians were raped and killed by the Imperial Japanese Army.”

  “That’s harsh.”

  “My grandfather refused to drive Japanese cars, eat Japanese food, or even use an electronic device if it was made by a Japanese company.”

  “You don’t feel the same way?”

  “I don’t fault my grandfather. I can’t imagine what it would be like to live through mass murder and mass rape. But it doesn’t serve subsequent generations. At some point, you have to move on.”

  “True that. I remember having a lot of discussions at Stanford about whether or not slavery is forgivable.”

  “Is it?”

  “I think it’s a personal decision. Some people worry that forgiving means condoning the travesty, and moving on means forgetting. We shouldn’t ever forget, but my father used to say that forgiveness is really about freeing yourself.”

  “Sounds like a wise man.”

  “Yeah, I probably should listen to him more.”

  The chef came to check on them, but Ben kept the conversation short. If there was a chance he would return her to Jake, he wanted to max every minute with her.

  The next few courses consisted of charcoal-grilled salmon, squid garnished with roe and seasonal vegetables, and a hot pot of Japanese duck dumplings. Each course was paired with its own sake. Although sake usually had a low proof, he could see it having an effect on Kimani, who excused herself to go to the ladies’ room.

  He was glad that she had appeared at ease throughout the dinner. Save for the moment when he had pulled his chair to hers to show her the proper way to hold chopsticks. So it would seem she didn’t hate his guts. But even though she had admitted she’d exaggerated her answers to the BDSM questionnaire, he didn’t have any plans on going easy with her punishment.

  A waiter came by and refilled his sake cup.

  And after he punished her, then what? Would he give her back to Jake before his time was up? He would need some assurances that Jake would treat her properly. Maybe he would make that a condition if Jake wanted to keep the full two hundred thousand.

  Problem was, Ben didn’t think he could be in the same room with Kimani without wanting to claim her for his own. He’d have to quit the cabin.

  His mobile rang.

  It was Jake.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Are you the one having dinner with Benji Lee?” the middle-aged Asian woman in the restroom asked.

  “Why do you ask?” Kimani returned as she washed her hands.

  “Just curious. I tried to set him up with my niece, but my family back in China told me not to bother. Seems Benji has a lot of different girlfriends. I thought maybe you were the flavor of the week.”

  Kimani flushed. “Hardly. We’re not on a date.”

  The woman raised her heavily tweezed brows. “Oh? It’s kind of a romantic setting up there on the private patio.”

  “He felt like having kesiki, so here we are.”

  “You mean kaiseki. This restaurant is renowned for that type of food.”

  Kimani bit back a retort that she didn’t care so much about the food as long as the sex with Ben was good. Instead, she smiled and said, “Good to know. And I should probably share with you that Ben hates being called Benji by anyone other than his family.”

  Leaving the restroom, she returned to the patio and saw that Ben was on his cell, standing near the glass wall.

  “If I decide to give her back to you, it’s not going to be tonight,” Ben was saying, his back to her. “What do you mean, you’re bored with Claire? Use your fuckin’ imagination. ... No, I’m not interested in swapping. And you told me it’s against the contract terms to loan out your subs. ... I told you we can talk about it tomorrow.”

  Hanging up, Ben shook his head.

  “That sounded like Jake,” she said.

  He turned around. “Yeah.”

  He held the seat out for her. Sitting down, she saw that dessert, a strawberry sherry mousse topped with citrus sorbet, had been set.

  “Sounds like he wants you to give me back?” she inquired.

  Ben’s face darkened as he took his seat. “Something like that.”

  “Are you?”

  He hesitated before replying, “I haven’t made up my mind.”

  Shit.

  She stared at her dessert, but as pretty as it looked, she had lost interest in eating. “So you’re considering it.”

  “According to the contract he signed with the Scarlet Auction, any third-party involvement requires prior authorization from the Scarlet Auction.”

  “And you’re a stickler for the rules?”

  “I don’t give a fuck about the Scarlet Auction.”

  “Then why bring up the contract?”

  He pressed his lips into a line. “Look, I know you don’t like Jake, but I’m sure something can be worked out.”

  “No, thank you. I don’t want to work anything out with that racist creep.”

  “Who did you think you were going to end up with, selling yourself through the Scarlet Auction? Prince Charming?”

  “No, that’s Claire’s fairy tale.”

  “You can always walk away.”

  The more he talked, the more it sounded like he was going to give her back to Jake. Her earlier anger returned twofold, in part because she was upset with herself. She should have known better than to trust he could have her interest. She should have walked out that door when she’d had the chance.

  “But then I don’t get the money, and I’m out that ridiculous processing fee,” she replied.

  “I’ll reimburse you the processing fee, plus whatever you would have earned.”

  “I don’t want your money!”

  He was taken aback.

  She reconsidered what she ought to have said if she’d actually participated in the Scarlet Auction for monetary reasons. “I mean, it’s not fair for you to have to pay.”

  “Then finish the week with Jake. There’s only a few days left.”

  “Are you going to be there?”

  “No.”

  Great. Without Ben there to protect her, who knew what Jake might do. But how was she going to finish her story if she quit? And she needed more evidence if there was any chance of bringing charges against Jake.

  “I don’t trust Jake,” she said firmly.

  “Then don’t finish the week with him. I told you I could compensate you. And take all the stuff that Beth bought. It’s yours to do whatever you want. There’s easily ten thousand dollars’ worth.”

  “I don’t need ten thousand dollars’ worth of clothing.”

  He raised his brows. “So now you’re no longer desperate for money?”

  Damn. In her agitation, she kept losing focus of the persona she was pretending to portray.

  “I’m not a charity case,” she grumbled.

  “You’d rather sell yourself for sex than accept charity.”

  Feeling stupid and lacking a clever response, she said, “Don’t patronize me.”

  A waiter came by and asked if they would like tea or coffee. Kimani shook her head. Sensing tension in the air, the waiter made a quick departure.

  She blew out her breath. “Great. He probably thinks we’re having a lovers’ quarrel.”

  “You shouldn’t care so much what other people think.”

  “And maybe you should care a little more.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “All right. You don’t want him thinking we’re having a lovers’ quarrel, then come over here.”

 
She balked, too angry to want to do anything he asked—demanded, rather. “I wasn’t saying that I— I was just speculating what the waiter might be thinking.”

  “Now, pet.”

  She bristled, not having heard him speak quite so harshly before. She didn’t want to follow his orders if he was planning to give her back to Jake—and after all the shit she had put up with!

  “Don’t make me reach over the table to drag you over here,” he warned. “You wouldn’t want sake to spill all over that pretty dress.”

  Her cheeks burned. She didn’t doubt he would risk making a scene just to get what he wanted. Stiffly, she got out of her chair and walked over. He pulled her onto his lap. She ground her teeth, but the instant her derriere touched his thigh, other emotions flared within her.

  “Try the dessert,” he said, spooning some of the mousse and sorbet topped with perfectly cut fruit.

  “I’m full,” she said, too vexed to think of what to say or how she could exit the situation she had created from a small remark about the waiter.

  He held the spoon in front of her. “Try it.”

  Hating that she felt like she had no choice but to comply, she parted her lips and allowed him to feed her. The sorbet melted on her tongue, filling her mouth with brightness. The dessert was flavorful but without the heaviness of most American desserts. If she wasn’t so upset, she would have finished off the dessert.

  Ben wiped a drop of the mousse from the corner of her lips into her mouth, pushing his thumb inside. Knowing what he wanted, and hating him more for it, she licked his thumb. When he didn’t withdraw, she sucked on it.

  “That’s a good pet.”

  She was tempted to bite his thumb, but then she might tick him off so much he could decide to fly her back to Jake tonight.

  “Now take off your panties.”

  “Here?” she exclaimed.

  “And now.”

  She glanced around to see if anyone was coming but still hesitated.

  He reached beneath her dress and grabbed the boyshorts. “You want me to rip them off you?”

  “No! I’ve got it.”

  Fuming, she wriggled them down to the hem of her dress, took another look around, then slid them the rest of the way off her legs. He took them and held them up for assessment. She tried to snatch them back before anyone walked in on them, but he held the panties out of reach. He balled the undergarment and stuck it in his pant pocket. She wasn’t going to get the underwear back anytime soon.

  “You want the rest of your dessert?” he asked.

  “I’m good,” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Then we can wrap this dinner up and head back to begin your punishment.”

  THE DRIVE BACK TO BEN’S place was silent and awkward. Kimani was still upset about having to remain on his lap while the servers cleared dessert and brought the check. At least he hadn’t done anything else, like feeling her up. But just knowing he could and he might had set her on edge. And she had yet to come up with a way to convince him not to return her to Jake.

  Escape while you can, Kimani.

  She closed her eyes, trying to relax enough to think straight. But it wasn’t easy. He had said she could come up with her own punishment, but if he didn’t like her ideas, he would add his punishment to hers.

  “So what’s it going to be?” he asked, tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter when they were back in his penthouse.

  “You want me to go through a punishment with you, only to have you throw me back to Jake?” she asked.

  “You’re still mine for tonight, pet.”

  “That supposed to make me feel better?”

  His frown said he didn’t give a shit, but his eyes hinted at guilt. She decided to take a chance on the latter.

  “Besides, didn’t you put me through enough earlier in the day?”

  “That was on the tame side, pet.”

  Not what she wanted to hear.

  “So you’re okay with what you did? All that exploitation shit?”

  He crossed over to her and grabbed her by the back of her neck, his thumb pressed into the soft spot beneath her jaw. “You came, didn’t you?”

  Her breath skipped. She tried to swallow. “And that justifies it all?”

  “You want out?” He released her and nodded toward the door. “Go right ahead. But if you choose to stay, questionnaire or no questionnaire, you agree to take it all.”

  She looked to the door.

  Go. Run. This might be your last chance.

  But she remained rooted to the spot. Walking out that door was probably the smart thing to do. But was it also cowardly? What about the other women?

  And if she left now, she’d leave empty-handed. She would have no way of contacting the other women. She only had the full names of Jake, Ben and Jason, and she doubted that reaching out to them would prove helpful. All she had was her own personal account of what she had been through, and she doubted that was enough to make the scoop Sam wanted. She didn’t want to have any regrets.

  Regrets about the scoop or regrets about leaving Ben?

  Really, she should hate the guy’s guts. Hate him for tormenting her. Hate him for thinking of returning her to Jake.

  Try as she might, she couldn’t drum up the hatred. She was plenty angry at him. And herself. For enjoying his twisted pleasure and what he did to her body. But she also enjoyed his company. More than enjoyed. They had connected. She wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, but, despite her charade, she felt she could be herself with him. And he challenged her in ways she found exciting. She wanted to stay with him.

  Oh, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of staying. And she was scared. She had no idea what kind of punishment he had in mind.

  “If I stay,” she began, “what will happen?”

  “You take your punishment.”

  “Then what? Are you returning me to Jake?”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a good deal for me.”

  “You take your punishment well, you’ll get rewarded. I do have one caveat for the punishment, however.”

  “What’s that?”

  “No. Safe. Words.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Her eyes lit up with fear. Then came anger. Ben could imagine the words she wanted to throw at him but had enough restraint and smarts to withhold. He knew women who would rant and rave or call him names. He usually found them immature and lacking in self-control.

  He wasn’t a gambler, despite gambling’s popularity in his culture. But this was a big gamble.

  Kimani wasn’t as hardcore as her answers to the questionnaire had suggested. How much she had exaggerated, he wasn’t sure, but he would find out. He had seen the tentative look she had given the door, seen that she had contemplated going through it. A part of him would be relieved if she did. He wouldn’t have to worry about returning her to Jake and making sure the wanker didn’t give her a black eye or something like it.

  If she stayed, he wanted her complete and total submission. He wanted to know how badly she wanted this. And even how much she might want him.

  Leaning against the sofa, he let her think it over in silence. The seconds passed by slowly, and he found himself on edge. What would she decide? There were upsides to whatever she chose, but did he truly want her to walk out that door?

  For several seconds, she glared at him.

  “Go on,” he said. “Call me a jerk, an asshole.”

  “I’m looking for a better word.”

  He couldn’t resist a small smile. “Stay or don’t. It’s your choice, pet.”

  The wheels were turning in her head. She was trying to find a way to turn things in her favor.

  “Going without a safety word requires a lot of trust,” she considered aloud. “And I can’t say you’ve inspired a lot of confidence in me.”

  He acknowledged her point with a nod. “Like I said, I wouldn’t trust my sisters with a guy like me. You have you
r warning.”

  “How likely are you to return me to Jake?”

  “I really can’t say.”

  “If I take my punishment well, will you reconsider letting Jake have me back?”

  “Maybe.”

  She should take his offer to compensate her and walk out the door. That would be the wise thing to do. But something compelled her otherwise, and he didn’t think it was all him.

  She was quiet for several minutes more before saying softly, “I’ll stay.”

  He closed his eyes and let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

  “No safe words,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, Master.”

  He nearly groaned. The word Master sounded so bloody sweet on her tongue. He swept her off her feet and, throwing her over his shoulder, walked down the hall to his playroom. He wanted to get the punishment underway before she changed her mind.

  Once in the playroom, he set her down.

  “Strip,” he told her.

  Without protest, she untied the top of the halter and slid it down her body.

  Fuck.

  He adjusted himself.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  She did as told, giving him a view of her backside. Her high heels caused her arse to protrude nicely and the buttocks to tighten. He would definitely be taking a piece of that tonight.

  “Feel yourself up.”

  She turned back around and grabbed her breasts.

  “Nice and slow,” he directed.

  She dug her fingers into the pliant flesh and rolled the orbs over her chest.

  “Now play with your nipples.”

  She tugged at one lightly. Seeing the delicious bud harden, he licked his lips. He drank in the sight of her body, every inch—from her shoulders and collarbones to the chocolate-colored areolas, the subtle indent down her midsection, her belly button, the swell of her hips, the curls at her mound, the length of her legs.

  “Play with yourself.”

  Dropping a hand, she slid her fingers between her thighs.

  Feeling the heat, Ben removed his blazer. “What did you come up for your punishment?”

  Her gaze lowered briefly. “You could spank me.”