“That was never listed as a job perk,” Bataar had returned after dodging a roundhouse kick.
Referring to Bataar’s mother hadn’t worked, either. No matter how aggressive Ben had gotten with his strikes and kicks, Bataar had refused to engage his full strength. He would allow himself to get beaten black and blue before taking out his boss.
However, Ben had managed to find a weak spot.
“That niece of yours is almost eighteen now, right?” Ben had said. “You think she might ever be open to BDSM? I’d—”
And that was all it had taken for Bataar to knock Ben on his arse. He knew Ben never played with jailbait or anyone close to that age, but he had obviously wanted to get the right message across just in case.
“You know I don’t mess with women that young,” Ben had affirmed to Bataar as they sat on the gym mats afterward, both of them bruised and sweating. “They’re still too innocent.”
“Even if my niece were sixty years old, I wouldn’t want you touching her,” Bataar had answered between hard breaths.
Ben remembered warning Kimani that he wouldn’t trust his own sisters to someone like himself. But Kimani had stayed anyway, even though she had been given the chance to walk away. At the time, his emotions had swelled, thinking that she had chosen to be with him despite whatever reservations she’d had. Turned out she had simply chosen to continue her charade so she could get her scoop for the Tribune.
But she couldn’t fake her orgasms that well. She couldn’t fake squirting. So while her job and the paper might have been her prime motivators, she wasn’t immune to him. He had sensed it still today outside the campaign headquarters. The current between them flowed both ways.
“I’m starving,” Eumie pronounced, setting down her shopping bags from Neiman Marcus and Burberry. “Did you pick up food?”
“I’m taking you out for dinner,” he replied. Initially, he had opted for takeout so that he and Eumie could get to the sex sooner rather than later. Dinners with Eumie weren’t that interesting. They would each end up spending most of the time on their respective mobile devices.
At the moment, however, he wasn’t that interested in sex with Eumie.
Eumie brightened. “Oh, good. Where?”
“Come up with your top favorites, and Beth will try to get a reservation at one of them.”
He picked up his land line and dialed his personal assistant, giving her instructions before handing the phone to Eumie.
“There’s so many to choose from,” Eumie said. “Do I feel like fusion or French or Californian? We are in California, after all.”
While Eumie prattled aloud, Ben texted Bataar:
Where’s my update on Kimani?
Half a minute later, he received his answer:
She just arrived home.
Ben glanced at the time on his mobile, got up and decided to call Bataar from his room.
“She’s getting home late,” Ben said to Bataar, tossing aside his ice pack.
“Teenagers stay out later than this, boss.”
“Where was she?”
“Doing her precinct walking.”
Ben felt his entire body tense. “Are you fucking with me? She was out walking Havenscourt at this hour?”
That Anthony kid was about to lose his job as a precinct captain.
“I switched out Bill for Moe, given where she was spending her time. She’s fine. There were no incidents. Bill’s going to watch her the rest of the night.”
“Didn’t she return to the campaign headquarters for lunch?”
“She stopped at a hot dog stand for her lunch and kept on going.”