CHAPTER ONE
What have I done?
Kimani Taylor had slept deep and dreamless, waking alone to the feel of luxury surrounding her body in the form of silken sheets and a feather bed.
Morning light streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows. Last night she had been too exhausted to appreciate the modern elegance of the bedroom that included a panoramic view of San Francisco’s Pacific Heights, plush rugs over gleaming hardwood floors, and a gas fireplace six feet wide opposite the bed.
A part of her wanted to stay snuggled in the bed, but she had work to do. Too many times, thanks to one Benjamin Lee and his killer caresses, she had lost sight of her objective: to expose the Scarlet Auction and its exploitation of the women participating in its program. In doing so, she would become the journalist she was meant to be.
No more messing around with Ben. She wasn’t here for sex. Or to be someone’s fucktoy. Besides, Ben had given—or maybe extracted was a better term—enough orgasms to last the week.
But he expected sex. And not just a vanilla quickie. If she wanted to get her scoop and put a stop to the dubious operations of the Scarlet Auction, how was she going to accomplish that without having sex?
Deciding that the answer might come to her in the course of the day, she looked about the room for clothes but remembered she had left her things on a sofa in the main room, and Ben had torn the tank top she had worn yesterday.
A shiver went through her as memories of his playroom taunted her, making the warmth churn below her belly.
To quell the sensations, she wrapped a sheet around her nakedness and got out of bed. A clock on the wall indicated it was a few minutes past six. She opened the bedroom door and made her way into the living area.
Ben was outside on the basketball court going through what looked like tai chi movements. He wore only sweatpants, and she tried her best not to salivate at the sight of his sleek muscles. They had just the right amount of contour and hardness to them, not too puffy or swollen-looking. Most of the time, he had her too tied up to touch him. She imagined what it would feel like to run her hands over his pecs, his abdomen, his—
As if sensing her gaze on him, Ben turned around. His expression seemed to soften before he came inside. She decided that she liked the look of morning stubble about his jaw.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
She nodded. “Beats sleeping on the mattress in Jake’s basement.”
More like the bed was in an entirely different stratosphere.
His gaze took in the bedsheet she wore, and even though he had seen her fully naked, she couldn’t help but blush. It was the intensity of his stare. That wolf-eying-red-riding-hood look.
Remembering her resolve to keep focused, she said, “I thought I would get in a shower before getting dressed, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” She grabbed her things.
“You won’t need the clothes from the thrift shop,” he said as he headed into the open kitchen.
Was he going to make her walk around naked the whole time, like Jake required of the other women still at the lakeside cabin? She frowned at the thought, even though she had been plenty naked in front of Ben already. “Why not?”
Opening the black stainless refrigerator, he pulled out eggs and cracked a few into a glass.