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She itched to ask him a dozen questions, which she would have done if she were openly interviewing him, but since she wasn’t, everything was technically off record. She wanted to know anyway but didn’t want to appear prying.

They walked to the area of worship.

“This is so cool,” she whispered of the paper prayers on the walls and intricately carved altars decorated with bold colors of red and gold. “It’s not something I expected to find out here.”

She looked at one of the scrolls hanging from beside the altar. “Do you read?”

After he had translated the Chinese on the scrolls, which talked of the emperor, gods, and devils, she recalled, “One of my dormmates at Stanford claimed to be a Taoist, but he only talked about it in reference to sex. I’m not sure how authentic it all was. Some people thought he was just being an ‘egg.’”

She glanced at him, and it was like walking into a brick wall when she met his stare. At first, she thought maybe he didn’t like that she had used the term ‘egg’ since it was sometimes used in a critical manner to refer to white Asiaphiles, but there was an amused gleam in Ben’s dark brown eyes that told her he was fixed on her, not her words. She could barely swallow. He looked as if he had some secret he may or may not share with her. She wanted to know what it was, even though she was certain that finding out would only get her deeper in trouble.

CHAPTER TWO

By her expression, not unlike a deer caught in headlights, Ben supposed he must have been staring at Kimani like she was a piece of meat he wanted to devour. And he did. On the drive over to Weaverville, he had toyed with the idea of pulling over and making her come all over the car. He was going to make her squirt again, just like he had the night before. The morning swim through the lake’s cold waters had helped clear his head, but spending all that time on the boat and seeing her naked had put him back to square one. Her body had felt so damn good leaning against his.

She stood inches from him looking like a frumpy tourist with her broad-brimmed hat, cheap sunglasses, and khaki shorts. And if there had been no one around, he would have been tempted to rip her clothes off and take her right there in the temple. Or at least feel her up through the thin tank top she wore. He had noticed she had chosen a sports bra, which made her breasts less accessible, but she was wrong if she thought a little sports bra could protect her.

“Sex is an important part of Taoism,” he explained, “and some engage in intercourse as part of a spiritual practice.”

“Really? Sex is usually taboo and wrong when it comes to religions.”

“Taoism isn’t a religion in the same way as Catholicism or Judaism. It’s a philosophy and a way of living. Central to Taoist practice is the care and cultivation of jing, essence or energy. Sex is the joining of this energy.”

She was eying him curiously, as if trying to read his mind. If she could, she would see herself spent and exhausted as he wrung yet another orgasm from her. She had no idea how long a session with him could last. Most women couldn’t keep up, and he wondered how Kimani would fare compared to the others.

“That sounds very holistic, spiritual,” she commented. Then, as if sensing his thoughts, though she couldn’t see them, she turned and stepped away. “Looks like there’s a garden out back.”

A deer leaped over the fence as they strolled outside and to a fountain with a small statue of Kuan Yin.

“’One who listens,’” Kimani read from the plaque in front of the fountain. “Is she a goddess?”

“Sort of. She is an enlightenment being and the gateway to a paradise where souls are reborn with the truth of their eternal nature, compassion and joy.”

“That sounds lovely. You seem to know quite a bit about Taoism.”

He didn’t tell her that it was the Taoist sex practices that had been his primary interest. It was best to stay away from topics of a sexual nature. Any wood would show in his tight-fitting jeans.

Instead, he said “Taoism is embedded in Chinese culture, though much of it was suppressed in favor of Confucianism.”

After they finished their visit at the Joss House, he decided to stop in one of the coffee shops to get something to drink. He wanted Kimani to himself and was in no hurry to get back to the cabin where his cousin, Jason, was probably getting stoned with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. The three of them had tried to convince him to attend the Scarlet Auction to “buy” a woman for the week. He had thought the idea of “buying” a woman stupid—for guys too lazy to get real dates. But the instant he saw Kimani, he had to have her. Or at least he couldn’t let Jake keep her, especially if he was the one that had given her the bruise on her cheek, which had deepened in hue since yesterday.

If it weren’t for the fact that Jake Whitehurst represented players that the coach of the Golden Phoenix wanted to recruit to play in the Chinese Basketball Association, Ben would not have chosen to spend the week in the wilderness of Northern California. But Kimani was going to make it all worthwhile.

At the coffee shop, he ordered two mugs of green tea.

“Green tea?” Kimani echoed in disbelief. “It’s warm out here. I was hoping to get an iced mocha.”

“Green tea is healthier.”

“So is broccoli juice but that doesn’t mean I want to drink it.”

Should he tell her that green tea enhances physical performance or would that scare her off?

“Do you only do what you want?” he returned, taking the mugs of tea from the barrista.

She followed him to a table. “Of course not. I’m not a child. But...green tea? Hot green tea on a sunny afternoon?”

“You’ll get used to it.”

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