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Degradation(10)

By:Stylo Fantome


And then Tatum had walked in to his apartment. He had developed a sort  of hard on for Tate. Eloise's younger sister had always been a sex bomb  waiting to happen. Leggy and tone, with chocolate eyes and a sexy body,  he'd had more than a couple fantasies about her. But she was off limits.  Too young, and too naive; not to mention the whole dating-her-sister  thing.

Yet in the end, none of that had stopped him.

She'd come apart under his hands. Like clay. He had felt like he could  mold her. Do anything he wanted to her. Say anything he wanted to her.  Every word that crossed his lips, no matter what she'd said in response,  she'd just gotten hotter. Needier. Pretty incredible. If Ellie hadn't  come home when she had, he was pretty sure Tate never would've made it  out the door. Ellie would've walked in on them in action.         

     



 

Sometimes Jameson wondered how different things would have turned out, if that had happened.

He moved away almost immediately after the break up, didn't bother to  keep in contact with the O'Sheas. His father died not long after, and  Jameson pretty much filled his role in the world. Stocks and bonds.  Acquisitions. Silent partnerships in a lot of businesses. On top of  that, he inherited the family fortune. Jameson had more money than he  knew what to do with  –  but that didn't mean he slacked off. He went  above and beyond his father, was bolder, made more money, more  connections. Garnered worldwide attention for his knack for making a  profit.

He owned homes in Manhattan, Copenhagen, Rio  –  and now Boston. He dated  supermodels and went to red carpet premieres. He had women falling at  his feet. Life was pretty damn near perfect.

But then he had seen Tatum in that kitchen, and time had shifted. In the  flash of an instant, he was back in his old apartment, talking so mean  to her. Watching her cry. Watching her moan. He had to admit it, she had  been a pretty powerful moment in his life. Profound.

She looked so different. Her curves had filled out a little more, but  she still had the same tone frame he remembered. He would kill to see  what her ass looked like now. Her dark hair had been pulled up in to a  messy ponytail, making him think of sex. Her eye makeup had been dark  and smudged, making him think of more sex. Her sarcastic smile and smart  mouth were a complete one-eighty from the girl he had known before;  this woman was a new creature. And he wanted to find out exactly what  kind.





~4~


Tatum plucked at her shirt in a nervous manner. She had tucked it in to a  tight pencil skirt and even put on a pair of sling back stilettos. If  someone had personally requested her, she wanted to make an effort to  look nice. She had blown out her hair and put curls in the ends, and  toned down her make up. Even she had to admit it, she looked  presentable.

For once.

Men in expensive business suits began to file in to the conference room  and she stood still, giving a polite smile to everyone who entered. A  team of lawyers was meeting with their client. Six chairs were lined up  on one side of a long table, with just a single chair on the other side.

Tate had been positioned at the back of the room, next to a sideboard  filled with goodies and coffee and water. She fussed about,  straightening napkins and setting up the glasses. When all six chairs  were filled on the one side, she stared at their backs, wondering who  the big shot was that got to stare them all down. The person who would  be facing her. A door at the back of the room swung open and her breath  caught in her threat.

Holy. Shit.

Jameson Kane strode in to the room, only offering a curt smile to his  lawyers. His eyes flashed to her for just a second, and then he looked  back. His smile became genuine and he tipped his head towards her,  almost like a bow.

She gaped back at him, positive that her mouth was hanging open. What  was he doing there!? Had he known she would be there? Had he been the  one to request her? Impossible, he didn't know what temp agency she  worked for  –  but what would be the chances? She hadn't seen him in seven  years, and now twice in two days.

Tate felt like swallowing her tongue.

"Gentlemen," Jameson began, seating himself across from the lawyers.  "Thanks for meeting with me today. Would anyone care for any coffee?  Water? The lovely Ms. O'Shea will be helping us today." He gestured  towards Tate, but no one turned around. Several people asked for coffee.  Jameson asked for water, his smile still in place. It was almost a  smirk. Like he knew something she didn't.

She began to grind her teeth.

She delivered everyone's drinks, and then carried around a tray of  snacks. No one took anything. She moved to the back of the room,  refilled the water pitcher. Tidied up. Felt Jameson staring at her.

This is ridiculous. You're Tatum O'Shea. You eat boys for breakfast.

But thinking that made her remember when he had said something very similar to her, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

She was pretty much ignored the whole time. They all argued back and  forth about what business decisions Jameson should, or shouldn't, make.  He was very keen on dismantling struggling companies and selling them  off. They tried to curb his desires. His tax lawyer explained how his  tax shelter in Hong Kong was doing. Another lawyer gave him a run down  on property law in Switzerland. Tate tried to hide her yawns.

They took a five minute break after an hour had passed. Tate had her  back to the room, rearranging some muffins on a tray, when she felt the  hair on the back of her neck start to stand up. She turned around in  slow motion, taking in Jameson as he walked up to her.

"Surprised?" he asked, smiling down at her.         

     



 

"Very. Did you ask for me?" she questioned. He nodded.

"Yes. You ran away so quickly the other night. I wanted to get reacquainted," he explained. She laughed.

"Maybe I didn't," she responded. He shrugged.

"That doesn't really matter to me. What are you doing tonight?" he asked. She was a little caught off guard.

"Are you asking me out, Kane?" she blurted out. He threw back his head and laughed.

"Oh god, still a little girl. No. I don't ask people out. I was asking what you were doing tonight," Jameson replied.

She willed away the blush she felt coming on. He still had the ability  to make her feel so stupid. She had been through so much since him, come  so far with her esteem and her life. It wasn't fair that he could still  make her feel so small. She wanted to return the favor. She cleared her  throat.

"I'm working."

"Where?"

"At a bar."

"What bar?"

"A bar you don't know."

"And tomorrow night?"

"Busy."

"And the night after that?"

"Every night after that," Tate informed him, crossing her arms. He narrowed his eyes, but continued smiling.

"Surely you can find some time to meet up with an old friend," he said. She shook her head.

"We were never friends, Kane," she pointed out. He laughed.

"Then what is it? Are you scared of me? Scared I'll eat you alive?" he  asked. She stepped closer to him, refusing to be intimidated.

"I think you're the one who should be scared. You don't know me, Kane.  You never did. And you never will," she whispered. Jameson leaned down  so his lips were almost against her ear.

"I know what you feel like from the inside. That's good enough for me,"  he whispered back. Tate stepped away. She felt like she couldn't  breathe. He did something to her insides.

"You, and a lot of other people. You're not as big a deal as you think,"  she taunted. It was a complete lie, but she had to get the upper hand  back. He smirked at her.

"That sounds like a challenge to me. I have to defend my honor," he warned her. She snorted.

"Whatever. Point to the challenger then, me. Defend away," she responded, rolling her eyes.

He didn't respond, just continued smirking down at her. The lawyers  began filing back in to the room and Jameson took his position on the  other side of the table. She wasn't really sure what their little spar  had been about, or what had come out of it. She was just going to try to  get through the rest of the conference, and then she would scurry away  before he could talk to her again. She didn't want anything to do with  Jameson Kane, or his -,

"Ms. O'Shea," his sharp voice interrupted her thoughts. Tate lifted her head.

"Yes, sir?" she asked, making sure to keep her voice soft and polite.

"Could you bring me some water, and something to eat," he asked, not  even bothering to look at her as he flipped through a contract.

She loaded up a tray with his requests and made her way around the  table. No one even looked at her, they just threw legal jargon around at  each other  –  a language she didn't know. She stood next to Jameson and  leaned forward, setting his water down and then going about arranging  cheese and crackers on a plate for him. She was about halfway done when  she felt it.