“Hmmm. Was he any good?” he asked, pressing his hands flat against her shoulder blades. She swallowed thickly, staring at him.

“Good enough.”

His hands slid down her back. Worked their way inside the sides of her underwear. Kept moving, pulling her panties down over her hips. Past her thighs. He let them go, and they fell to her feet. She was completely naked, pressed against his completely clothed form.

“Did you follow the rules?” he asked, and it took her a second to figure out what he was actually saying.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I thought of you the whole time.”

“Does he know this?”

“I didn't say it. But I think he did.”

“Pussy.”

“Stop it.”

“How many times?” Jameson asked, his hands moving back to her butt. He picked her up, forced her legs around his waist.

“Just one night. I couldn't do it again,” she assured him. He carried her to the couch, and then he sat down with her straddling him.

“You have been very naughty, Ms. O'Shea,” he sighed. She nodded, rubbing her hands down his chest.

“I know,” she agreed.

“And trying to corrupt Sanders? That was especially low,” he added, his voice evil sounding. She winced.

“Would you rather him be with a stranger? At least you know I would take care of him. I would treat him right,” she pointed out. His fingers dug into her waist and she winced again.

“Tatum. I am giving you a lot of get out of jail free cards. If you ever touch Sanders – inappropriately – ever again, I will kill him and maim you,” he warned her. She chuckled.

“You want to keep him in a box forever. You need to stop treating him like some thirteen year old street urchin. He's a man,” she whispered, undoing his belt buckle.

“You need to stop noticing that he's a man,” Jameson growled, leaning back from her as she undid his pants.

“And you may hate Nick, but you should know that he knows I'm up here, right now. He knows, and wished me luck. That man downstairs is better than you or I will ever be,” she told him. He snorted and worked his jeans down his hips from underneath her.

“We'll reassess that in about fifteen minutes,” he told her.

“Fifteen minutes? You've gotten soft in the last month.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Tate.”

His hands were on her hips, guiding her down on him. She moaned and shuddered, scratching at his t-shirt. She was completely naked, and he was still almost completely dressed. It was a bizarre, different sensation. She worked her hips against his, gasping.

“I don't want that life with him,” she suddenly moaned.

“I know.”

“But I don't want what we had,” she pressed her forehead to his. One of his arms wrapped around her waist.

“I know, Tatum.”

“I want you.”

“Yes.”

“I want to be with you.”

“You're with me.”

“Only me.”

“Only you.”

She gasped, all of her muscles contracting. His arm got tight around her, holding her down to his thrusts. She let her head drop back, abandoning herself to him. Not that she'd ever had a choice.

“I just want to be like this, all the time,” she sighed, dropping her head to his shoulder.

“You can be.”

“I lied to you. I lied so much to you,” she gasped for air. He groaned and she felt his fingers in her hair, pressed against the back of her head.

“I know,” he replied, his voice straining.

“It was all a lie,” she whispered, her whole body starting to shake. “Every word I said. I loved you. I didn't love him. I've never loved anyone else, ever.”

“I know.”

If you always know everything before me, why don't you clue me in and save us some time?

She came hard, shuddering and shaking on top of him. He stopped moving, just held her close against him. His touch was gentle. If he had been rough, it would have been too much, too soon. He always knew exactly what she needed. She pressed her face into his shoulder. Sucked in air. Cried a little.

“Are you alright?” he breathed. She nodded.

“Yes. For the first time, in a long time, I think I am,” she managed with a laugh.

“See? A good fuck always makes you feel better. Remember that, next time you get upset,” he told her, and she laughed harder.

“Maybe you should just remind me.”

“Is it my turn now?” he asked. She lifted her head and looked down at him.

“What do you mean?” she asked. He lifted his hands to her face and ran his thumbs underneath her eyes, wiping away tears and mascara.

“I mean, that one was for you, baby girl. To reassure you, I'm not going anywhere, no matter what you do. You're feeling upset. You feel bad. That one was to make you feel better,” he told her. She smiled.

“Very generous, sir.”

“I know. Now, I think it's my turn.”

“And what exactly are you feeling?”

“Angry.”

“Ooohhh, and what would you like to do about that?”

“Anything I want.”

“Sounds fun.”

“You up for that?”

“Always.”

The hand in her hair clenched and yanked, forcing her head back. She gasped, and then moaned when she felt his teeth on her nipple. The arm around her waist held her tight against him and he stood up. She wrapped herself around him, digging her fingernails into his shirt. He let his pants fall to the floor and stepped out of them as he walked across the room, carrying her into the bedroom.