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She shook her head. He tucked a curl that the breeze had blown into her face back behind her ear. The whites of her eyes were so bright, and despite the fact that the sun had set, her eyes glimmered. He cupped her jaw and drew her to him till his mouth was near her ear. His tone was low and hushed.
“I want to fuck you. I want to do you till you can’t walk for weeks, torment you with rapture that will have you sobbing. In short, I’m going to devastate you.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Holy sweet Jesus.
Her jaw hit the floor. The guy didn’t mince words, and they kept ringing in Kimani’s head as her heartbeat jumped madly around at his touch.
I want to fuck you...do you...torment you...devastate you.
Of course, she knew he wanted sex. Why else would he have laid down two hundred thousand for her? In fact, it had been stupid of her to ask, like she was fishing for compliments. She had wanted to find out how different he was from Jake, but what had she expected he would actually say?
She shouldn’t have asked because now her whole body had liquefied. If a saber tooth tiger were to jump out at her, she’d probably still be rooted to the spot, reduced to a gelatinous mess because of a few little sentences. It wasn’t just the words, however. It was the way he had said them. And the fact that he was so close to her, making her pulse skittish. He smelled good. Not from a heavy cologne. Just a hint of his aftershave, the soap he used, and something that was him. Pheromones, maybe.
“Pizza’s here,” someone announced.
Pulling back, Ben let his hand drop from her jaw. It was then that she realized she had been holding her breath.
“Thank God,” Ryan said. “Weed makes me famished.”
“Sluts get to eat over there.” Jake pointed to the coffee table before the fireplace.
Jason gave Lisa a slap on the rear as she stumbled with Ryan and Claire back inside the house.
Kimani didn’t want to leave Ben. He was different from Jake. She had already seen evidence of that, and she believed him when he said he wouldn’t hold her hostage. She hadn’t expected to dip into a discussion of feminist political theory. When they were conversing, it had seemed like the others had faded away. There was so much more to Ben that she wanted to learn. And the way he stared at her, with such penetration, she felt naked in body and soul.
Kimani bet a lot of other women melted instantly under his gaze, but she shouldn’t give in so easily. Men with his kind of wealth probably thought everything was theirs for the plucking, that they could buy anything they wanted, and women were ready to give it to them because society equated wealth with power. How different could he be?
She wanted to find out...but sensed herself at the edge of a cliff. It was dangerous, not because she might get pushed or slip and fall over the precipice. But because she might decide to leap.
Pulling herself away from the edge, she told herself that she needed to talk more with the other women, especially Claire. Doing her best to contain her wobbly legs, she went inside the house. Before joining the other women around the coffee table, she took a large breath and shook Ben’s words out of her head.
“I get the feeling Jake’s going to make us eat out of dog bowls next,” Kimani remarked as she knelt down at the table.
Ryan chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind. He’s so cute, I’d do anything he wanted.”
“OMG, Montana, your guy is so hot, too,” Lisa said as she helped herself to the cheese pizza.
Kimani glanced at Ben, admiring how his shirt fit over broad shoulders and revealed his muscled arms. He was chiseled but not beefy. She wondered briefly if she would get to see him without a shirt.
Girl, what is wrong with you? She snapped her attention back to the women.
“So you aren’t nervous at all about this week?” she asked.
“Why should we be? Jason’s a cute guy, and he’s got a sense of humor. Honestly, your guy looks kind of serious, but I’d jump his bones in a second anyway.”
“I’m just glad we weren’t won by one of those old guys,” said Claire. “I mean, most of the guys in the audience were so old.”
“Most wealthy men in the world are on the older side,” Kimani said. “They’re only younger in fiction.”
“Older men don’t bother me. I mean, I’d rather marry an older rich guy than a younger poor guy,” said Ryan. “I wasn’t meant to live a poor lifestyle. Who wouldn’t want to shop at Neiman Marcus and drive a Porsche if they had the chance?”
“But you don’t necessarily need a man to do that.”
“Who you kidding, honey? I’m not rich, and I don’t know if I’ll ever strike it a rich. It’s much easier to marry or date rich.”
“I don’t care so much if a guy is rich,” said Lisa, “as long as he’s good-looking and good in bed.”
