“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” K
imani replied.
“I’ve got specific instructions.”
“Really? Like what?”
“Like your bath. I’ve got the water up already.”
“I took a shower—”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I don’t want my hair to get all wet and frizzy.” She touched her hair, which she had sectioned off and pinned into an updo, to make sure it was still in place. The hairstyle was more elegant than the occasion called for, but it had taken relatively little time. Similar to the last time she had come to The Lair, her clothes were casual, consisting of her Converse sneakers, capri-length jeans, and a short-sleeved shirt.
“Don’t worry, I won’t touch your hair,” Amanda said.
Wait, were there places she was going to touch?
Amanda led her to a bathroom, cozy and nicely appointed. The room was lit only with candles and had a deep antique clawfoot tub with a double-slipper silhouette for leaning back at either end.
“So what exactly is the bath for?” Kimani asked, taking in the lavender-scented bath water.
“I’m not sure. I only have instructions on what to do, but I’m guessing it’s to put you in the mood.” Amanda gave her an encouraging smile.
“What if I don’t want a bath?”
Amanda cocked her head to the side in thought. “You’ll have to take it up with your Master.”
Kimani stiffened at the last word. He’d probably punish her for not following orders. It was easier taking the bath. No sense in fighting the small stuff.
“Want some help getting settled in?” Amanda asked.
“I can take care of myself. How much time do I get?”
“As long as you need.”
How about five hours? But Kimani knew she couldn’t hide out in a bath. She should just get on with it. Rip the Band-Aid off as fast as possible.
Amanda set down a glass of water on a table beside the tub. “I’ll be back with your outfit.”
Kimani frowned, hoping that the outfit did not entail a chastity belt.
After Amanda left, Kimani undressed and slipped into the tub. After a few minutes of soaking in the steaming, scented water, she felt more relaxed. She was also thirsty, so she finished the glass of water on the small table beside the tub.
As she leaned against the tub and closed her eyes, she saw Ben’s smoldering gaze. She couldn’t tell what he intended. The sex in the Silk Room had been rougher, more punishing than she had ever experienced. Should she expect more of that? It probably depended on how he felt about her...but what exactly did he feel? She wasn’t even sure he liked her. She was sure of his anger when he’d told her outside of Gordon’s campaign headquarters that she shouldn’t bother making up for what she had done. And she would never forget the look of betrayal after finding out about the Tribune article on his uncle.
After all that, he still wanted her. Maybe he just wanted to prove a point. Maybe he did want his money’s worth. Maybe he wanted to punish her.
Despite the heat of the bath embracing her body, she shivered. She would sooner run the baseline or do half an hour of burpees.
What are you, crazy? The sex is mind-blowing.
But burpees were so much safer.
She knew what to expect with burpees. What if Ben didn’t let her come? What if it was going to be pain without the pleasure?
When has he not let you come?