“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?”