Degradation (7 page)

Get over it. Rent is due.

She began yanking out clothing, not paying attention to what she picked out. Her mind kept wandering back to the conference room. Tate had grown pretty bold over the years, very confident in herself and her sexuality, but she had never done something like that before; had never stripped in a room full of people.

How was it possible that he still had that kind of power over her? One time. They had been together only
one time
, it wasn't fair. And weirder still – why did it seem like he was pursuing her? Jameson Kane didn't pursue anybody, not even seven years ago. Ellie had asked him out. He had certainly never pursued Tate. She had all but fallen on his dick that night, she'd been so eager for him. She shook her head back and forth, trying to clear her thoughts.

Never again. I am never going to think of Jameson Kane, never -,

“
Tate!
” Rusty's voice squealed through her door.

“What? It's open,” Tate called out, dropping the towel she had been wearing and shimmying in to a pair of sweat pants. Her door cracked open and Rus peaked her head around the corner.

“There is some guy here to see you,” she said in an excited voice. Tate scrunched her eyebrows together. Some guy?

“Who? What does he want?” she asked, pulling on a t-shirt and then yanking her damp hair up in to a ponytail.

“I don't know who he is, but he is so good looking, I can't believe he's real life. He's wearing some expensive looking suit,” Rus described. Tate groaned, rubbing her hands over her face.

“Jesus! What, is he stalking me now!?” she moaned.

“No,” a deep voice came from her doorway. She looked up.

Jameson Kane is in my piece of shit apartment.

“Make yourself at home,” she sighed, gesturing for him to come in to her room. Rus giggled and turned bright red, making room for him and then scurrying out the door.

“She's cute,” Jameson commented as he wandered around the tiny room, inspecting things.

“Oh really? Want to eat her for breakfast, too?” Tate asked. Jameson laughed, leaning close to a photo.

“Hmmm, not really my tastes. I'm hungering for something a little darker,” he replied. Tate narrowed her eyes.

“Well, that '
something
' isn't on the menu,” she informed him. He stood upright and faced her.

“We'll see about that.”

“Seriously. What the fuck do you want?” she snapped at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“Attitude. I like it. Where's all that shit you normally have around your eyes?” he asked, walking towards her. She started to back up but then stopped, holding her ground.

“I was just about to put
all that shit
back on when I was interrupted by a conceited asshole,” she replied.

“Look. I want to talk to you. We haven't seen each other in a long time. You ..., intrigue me. Not much does anymore,” he explained a little.

“Intrigue?”

“You're so different, but still kind of the same. It's interesting. I'm curious to see how deep both go,” he added. She sighed.

“Look, Kane, you don't just get to decide -,”

“Jameson,” he corrected her. She blinked at him.

“Excuse me?”

“
Jameson
. That's my name. Call me by my name,” he instructed her.

“
But everyone calls you Kane. All those lawyers today, my sister,
everyone,
” Tate replied, a little lost in the conversation. He shook his head.

“I don't care. You always called me Jameson. Say it again,” he ordered. She laughed.

“Okay, play time is over. Get out of my apartment. I'm very flattered that you think you want to know something about me, but I don't really give two fucks. I don't want anything to do with you. You are nothing to me. So thank you, and goodbye,” she stated, gesturing towards her door.

Jameson watched her for a second and then walked towards her, his steps slow and deliberate. She refused to back away, so they wound up almost chest to chest. Not quite touching, but close enough that he sucked all the oxygen out of her. She stared up at him, rubbing her lips together so she wouldn't blurt out the thoughts in her head.

“It hasn't escaped my attention that you growing a massive set of balls seems to have happened right after I fucked you. I think I deserve some credit, and therefore, you owe me,” he broke it down for her. She burst out laughing.

“You're an amazing piece of work! Just because we had sex, doesn't mean -,”

“
I
fucked
you
. There is a big difference.”

“
It was seven years ago!
” Tate was suddenly shrieking. “Seven fucking years! Who gives a fuck!? I've fucked a lot of people since then! I'm sure you have, too! So big fucking deal!”

Nothing rattled him. He stood still, continuing to smirk down at her. It drove her insane. She wanted to slap him. Claw her nails across his face. Knock him to the ground. And then possibly fuck his brains out ...,

“I think it was a
very
big deal, and we can discuss that another time. For now, let me take you to work. Let me see this shit hole bar you work at, and then maybe we can set up a time to
chat
,” Jameson offered.

Her mind was spinning. It had been a big deal to him? Not possible.
Not. Fucking. Possible.
He'd barely even looked at her after it had happened, and she had been a puddle on the floor. Jameson Kane wasn't that kind of guy, she couldn't imagine anything being that big of a deal to him. She had always assumed he had forgotten about it.

That's why she was so stunned.

“I ..., you ..., what?” she asked. He laughed.

“I'll be waiting downstairs. Your apartment scares me. Be down in fifteen minutes. Do not make me come back up here,” he ordered, pointing a finger at her before walking towards the door.

“You can't tell me -,”

“Oh, and Tate, you forgot these,” he said, digging in his pocket. He pulled her panties out and tossed them onto the floor. “You always seem to be dropping these around me.”

Mother fucker.

*

Jameson was a little shocked that she came down within the fifteen minutes. She eyed him sideways for a minute, and it was obvious she was considering just walking off, but something made her think twice. She must have figured out that he would just follow after her. She sighed and stepped around him, letting herself in to the passenger side of his car.

Tate didn't talk to him, other than to give directions. Her voice had gotten just a touch lower than it had been when she was eighteen. A huskiness had been added to it, or something. Something
sexy
. Everything about her was sexy. Seven years ago, she had been sexy as a clueless, naive, young woman. Now, as a confident, forward, twenty-five year old, she stopped his heart. Made it hard to think straight.

She had put makeup on. She seemed to favor a smudgy, smoky eye. It looked good on her. A little trashy, but in a
very
sexy way. Her pert mouth was coated in a pale, pink gloss, that really emphasized the fact that she most definitely had CSL - cock-sucking-lips. Seven years ago, he wouldn't have ever been able to imagine Tatum O'Shea sucking dick. Now he couldn't stop.

Jameson wouldn't let himself think about her body, or he'd have to pull over the car and ease the tension between them, right then and there.

She was fighting against him, and it just turned him on even more. When she had started pulling down her panties, in the middle of that room, with all those people ..., it had taken every bit of restraint he had not to dismiss everyone and fuck her right then. The old Tatum had been fun to play with, cute. This Tatum, he wanted to
own
. He wanted to break her down, bend her to him. She seemed a worthy adversary, and Jameson loved a good fight.

“Do you always start work this late?” he questioned, pulling up in front of a kind of dive looking bar. She shook her head.

“No, I'm filling in for someone, I normally work weekends. Thanks for the ride,” she said before leaping out of the car. He got out right behind her.

“Oh, I've gotta see this place. I'm fascinated by your life. Good girl goes bad. Is there piss on the floor?” he asked, holding the door to the bar open. She gave him a smile full of sweetness.

“You have such a sexy way with words.”

Then she elbowed him and strode through the door.

She made a beeline to the bar, ducking under the partition and heading in to a back room. Jameson planted himself on a bar stool and ordered a bourbon. Neat. The woman serving him was wearing a pair of tight leather pants and a string-bikini top, and wore them well. It made him curious as to what Tate would be wearing, wondered if it would be as slutty.

He wasn't disappointed. Fifteen minutes later, at ten o'clock on the dot, she reappeared. His tongue got stuck to the roof of his mouth. She was wearing a tiny pair of jean cut-offs. He had wanted to see her ass, and now his wish was pretty much granted. When she leaned over the back of the bar to grab something, he could see the bottom swell of her ass cheeks.

On top she was wearing a t-shirt with some sort of baseball logo on it, but she had ripped off the bottom half of it. It stopped just beneath her breasts, and when she lifted her arms, he could see a gray, lacy bra. The shirt also show-cased her stomach, with was tone and flat. The girl took care of her body. She had leather boots on her feet, almost combat like, but with the tops folded down. They should have looked at odds with her sexy outfit, but they worked some how.

“Is this how you normally dress for work?” Jameson asked when she made her way towards his end of the bar. She glanced down at herself.

“No. Sometimes I wear less,” she replied, and he laughed.

“Less? So if I come in here on the weekend, you might be serving people in a bikini?” he had to shout to be heard over the music and the rowdy patrons. It had been pretty full when they'd walked in – now it was standing room only.

“Only if it's a game day.”

“Hot. But those shorts, I think they have to go. Sometimes less is more, you know,” he teased. Tate raised an eyebrow.

“You think they're too short?”

“Yes.”

She whirled away from him and took long strides to the other end of the bar. She picked something up and then headed back towards him. It took him a second before he realized it was a blow horn. She smirked at him and then lifted it to her lips.

“
Everybody! Hey!” she shouted. There was a roar of cheers and the music was turned down. “This man here thinks my shorts are too short! What do you all think!?” She pulled the blow horn away, lifting her arms up in a questioning gesture.

The place went nuts. The crowd had to be seventy-five percent male, and all of them were hooting and hollering at her. Tate smiled, and winked, biting the tip of her tongue between her teeth. It was clear that she knew what she was doing, knew how to work the crowd. She turned around and bent at the waist, shaking her ass a little. The roar grew to a deafening level. She finally stood up and turned back around, waving everyone away. Then she turned to Jameson.

“I didn't say you looked bad,” he pointed out. She shook her head.

“
You're ridiculous. If you don't like what I'm wearing,
leave,
” she suggested before prancing back down the bar to wait on customers.

“Not until you agree to talk with me, Tatum!” Jameson shouted over the din. She glanced at him while she expertly twirled bottles in her hands, throwing liquor in to glasses.

“I still don't know what it is we have to talk about!” she yelled back, twirling two shakers at once. She was very good at her job.

“
The way you talk, the way you dress, your makeup, your ass!” he replied. At the word “
ass
”, some idiot next to him cheered.

“Best I can tell, not one of those things is any of your business!” she laughed, cracking open one of the shakers and letting a blue concoction pour in to a martini glass.

“I'm making them my business. I want to get to know you,” he said.

“But not date me,” she clarified, pouring the second drink.

“Don't be fucking stupid,” Jameson laughed.

Tate made her way back to him and then planted her hands on the bar, spreading her arms wide. She leaned close to him, very close, her breath hot against his lips. Her loose shirt hung forward and he had a perfect view down her cleavage.

“What do you
want,
Kane?” she asked in a low voice. He dragged his eyes away from her tits and stared her in the eye.

“Call me that name again, and I will punish your mouth,” he warned her. She chuckled.

“Don't make promises you won't keep,” she retorted.

Oh my, I may have met my match. This should be interesting.

“Who says I won't? I have big plans for that mouth,” Jameson said, pinching her chin between his fingers. She rolled her eyes.