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“What does your mom do?”
“She’s a professor of economics.”
“You come from an accomplished family.”
“Which is good and bad. It’s what I rebelled against as a kid.”
“So how come you got it together?”
Ben leaned back on his arms and thought. “I grew up. And my time at Howard made a difference. As a freshman, I used to get into the most heated debates. I was advantaged but didn’t see myself as that different. But learning the history of a people repressed for centuries in the worst ways made me grateful for what I have. And Uncle Gordon. During my time at college, he was basically a father to me.”
He looked over at her. “And what was two-year-old Kimani like?”
“Also difficult. My mother said I was constantly trying to climb things, and I liked to throw things. Just for fun.”
She flicked her chopsticks, and more rice came his way.
“You did that on purpose,” he said.
She returned a guilty smile, but her smile turned into a gasp when he pulled her by the neck toward him. His mouth brushed against her curls as he said into her ear, “Keep that up, and I’ll do you right here against the car.”
“Families with kids live in these houses,” she hissed.
“Then I’ll throw you in the backseat of the car.”
Her lashes fluttered, and despite the tenseness in her body, the pupils in her eyes had dilated. His gaze fell to her lips. He knew what he really wanted for lunch. And the vision of her squirming beneath him in the confines of the car was very, very appealing.
He took her mouth. Not in the bruising way he had in the Silk Room. This kiss was about savoring. He tasted the suppleness of her lips, the heat of her mouth, the texture of her tongue. Different emotions flavored this kiss, though he knew it wouldn’t be long before more primal, visceral urges took over.
She put her hand on his wrist and—reluctantly, it seemed—pulled away.
“We should finish the precinct,” she said, breathlessly.
He could wipe away her resistance with another demanding kiss, he was sure of it. But he needed to show her—and himself—that he possessed control. He would behave.
For now.
Chapter Seventeen
When they arrived back at the campaign headquarters, Ben went to talk with his uncle and aunt. Since Kimani hadn’t yet had a chance to replace her stolen laptop, she sat at one of the computers in the headquarters to print out more flyers for the Havenscourt basketball event. She had secured a nonprofit partner, East Oakland Kids, that would accept the funds raised and spearhead the improvements to the basketball courts.
“Hi,” a sultry voice behind her said. “We didn’t get to meet the other day.”
Turning around, Kimani found herself staring at a stunning statuesque woman of Chinese descent, supremely slender except for her breasts, which were pushed by her underwire bra into a significant cleavage above a scoop neck top. Kimani instantly remembered her. The woman had been in the company of Alice Lee, and Kimani had picked up a connection between her and Ben—a connection that suggested the two weren’t just friends.
“You left rather suddenly,” the woman said, arching perfectly tweezed brows.
Kimani got to her feet and held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Kimani Taylor.”
“Eu-meh Ma. But you can call me Eumie. I’m the other woman that Ben’s banging.”
Taken aback, Kimani didn’t know what to say at first. “...Excuse me?”
Eumie tossed her long black hair to the side. “That Benjamin Lee. He’s such a manwhore, isn’t he?”
“Is he?”
“Sometimes I wonder why we put up with him? I bet he has a white girl, maybe even a Mexican girl he’s banging, too.” Eumie shivered as if a plate of creepy crawlers had been placed before her for breakfast. “Like he’s the fucking United Nations with sex.”
