“Funny, sometimes I have the same thoughts about you,” he countered. She rolled her eyes.

“Please, you could never find another woman like me.”

“No. But it might be fun to try.”

“You want to try?” she asked, coming to a stop. He smiled, but his eyes were narrowed.

“Hmmm, I don't know. It's been so long. Maybe I'm 'too old' to play the field anymore,” he told her. She gasped melodramatically.

“No! Not the Jameson Kane! Never. You've still got 'it', I'm sure,” she assured him, her voice syrupy sweet. He barked out a laugh.

“Well, thank you for that vote of confidence, Tate.”

“God, it's must be so easy to be you,” she sighed, running her fingers over his jacket, which was hanging on the back of a chair.

“You think so?” he asked.

“I know so.”

“You try handling and trading the same amount of money as the GNP of a small country, in a single day, and tell me how easy it,” he snapped. She shrugged, slowly turning her back to him.

“I meant the other stuff.”

“What other stuff?”

“Not Jameson Kane, the financier. Jameson Kane, the man.”

She peeled her top off and chucked it over her shoulder. He was silent, so she kept going. Unhooked her bra and threw it as well. Then she picked up his jacket and slid it on, turning around as she buttoned the top button. It was so big it almost hid the tiny shorts she was wearing, and displayed everything from her cleavage down to her belly button. Jameson stared back at her, one of his eyebrows raised.

“You think that's easy? I deal with you, every day,” he reminded her. She laughed and slowly moved around the couch, till she was behind him.

“Please. I'm the easiest part of your day,” she argued, leaning over him from behind and stretching her arms along his. When her hand ran into his watch, she slowly unclasped it and slid it off his wrist. Pulled it onto her own.

“You are easy. Dealing with you, however, is another story entirely.”

“You're so funny!”

She slipped out of her shorts and kicked them aside before continuing her turn around the couch. She was completely naked under his jacket, but the material still hid all the good bits. Jameson's eyes bounced from her legs to her chest to her face. It made her smile. After all the time they'd spent together, after two years, he still looked at her like she was breakfast.

Best thing ever.

“I thought you wanted to party,” he questioned as she moved to straddle his lap.

“Oh, I definitely want to party,” she chuckled, working his tie loose and then slipping it over his head.

“What did you have in mind?” Jameson asked, watching as she put his tie on herself.

“Hmmm, don't know. Maybe I could just slap you around for a while, see where the night takes us,” she joked.

“Jesus, you really do want to be me tonight,” he snorted.

“Don't I look the part?”

“Not quite as good looking as me, but almost.”

“God, you're such a dick.”

“Good thing you love dick.”

“That's not even funny.”

“Yes it is.”

Tate leaned forward and kissed him.

They had been kissing each other, on and off, for over nine years. Every single day for the last year and a half, but it never got old. Never got stale. She always wanted more. She moaned when his fingers wrapped around her jaw, tilting her head to give him better access. Hissed when his teeth bit into her bottom lip. Whispered “please” as his fingers clawed their way up her thighs.

“This is the real reason you got a private room,” Tate chuckled as Jameson twisted them around, laying her down on the couch.

“I know how you get when you drink,” was his response as he unbuttoned the jacket.

“I'm not -,” she tried to argue, but it turned into a gasp as he squeezed her breasts.

“Time to be quiet now, Tate,” he instructed her, his hands sliding down to her hips for a brief moment before he started undoing his belt.

“I don't want to be quiet,” she complained.

“Shut up.”

“You like it when I'm loud.”

“Only when I want you to be loud. And now I want you to shut up.”

“Maybe I don't want -,”

“Shut the fuck up. This is your last warning.”

Hmmm, do what he wants, or what I want … well, it's my party, so this should be about what I want.

“Make me,” she challenged him.

Jameson's response was instantaneous. He roughly yanked the tie up over her head, grabbing her wrists in one hand at the same time. He pinned them above her head and tied them together, then knotted the tie around the leg of an end table behind her. There was almost no slack, and when she yanked at her restraints, they knotted tighter.

“Always gotta be pissing me off,” he growled, his teeth meeting her neck while his hands went back to his pants.

“I like to keep it interesting. Untie me,” she whispered, licking at the shell of his ear.

“Too late. If you're lucky, afterwards I'll untie you and let you leave with us,” he replied, his hands forcing her legs around his hips.

“You know I don't like to be tied up,” she reminded him. He actually laughed.

“Do you think I give a fuck?”