Degradation(34)

"What do you mean?"

"I was dating her sister, and Tate and I slept together. They disowned her," Jameson explained. Dunn laughed.

"Good old Kane. You know how to pick 'em. She looks like the type to  sleep with her sister's boyfriend. Fucking hot. She yours?" Dunn asked.

Jameson didn't like this line of questioning, but he didn't want to come  off as a jealous lover. Tate didn't have any claim on him, nor did he  on her  –  they had been very clear about that from the beginning. Still.

Fucking Dunn.

"We're sleeping together, if that's what you're asking," Jameson gave an evasive answer.

"Kinda low brow for you, Kane. I thought you only dated Eastern European supermodels," Dunn joked. It wasn't funny.

"I don't date anyone anymore. Tate and I like to fuck, that's it,"  Jameson snapped. It was harsh, but he didn't care. He didn't care if  people knew they were sleeping together; what he didn't want was people  thinking he was in the market for a wife or anything.

"Good time girl, all right. Tell her to call me sometime," Dunn mumbled,  his eyes raking over Tate's form as she climbed out of her chair,  looping her arm through Sanders' and walking with him towards the house.  Jameson laughed darkly.

"You couldn't handle her, Dunn," he said.

"Oh really?"

"To say she likes things a little wild, is an understatement. And you  most definitely couldn't afford her," he snapped. Dunn's eyebrows shot  up.

"You mean she's a -,"

"I mean, this conversation is over. Go mingle, eat, drink, hit on someone, jesus," Jameson growled before stomping away.

He was angry. "... thought you only dated Eastern European supermodels,"   –  Jameson didn't appreciate obscure references to his ex. Didn't  appreciate references to her, at all. And he especially didn't  appreciate the way Dunn had been looking at Tatum. It was all fine and  dandy for them to sleep with other people, but he certainly didn't want  to be trading stories at the water cooler about her gymnastic abilities  in bed.

And, a tiny part of him whispered, he simply didn't like Dunn looking at her, period.



*



Several hours later, Tatum hopped down the stairs on one leg, pulling up  her sock on the other leg. When she got to the bottom of the stairs,  she put the other sock on, as well. She had opted for long red socks.  Better for evening wear. It was just starting to get dark outside and  people were moving in to the conservatory. As she headed in to the  library, she pulled a loose tank top on over her head and walked right  in to something. She stumbled backwards, quickly pulling the shirt over  her bikini top.         

     



 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here," she laughed. There was a  man standing in the library. She had met him before, but couldn't  remember his first name. Last name was Dunn, he was Jameson's business  partner. He smiled down at her.

"Just looking around. I've only been to Jameson's house one other time," he told her. She laughed again.

"Yeah, he never lets anyone come over, treats it like a fortress. I'm  surprised there aren't TSA agents at the bottom of the driveway,  screening people before they come in," Tate joked, but she felt a little  uncomfortable. Dunn's eyes never met hers, just stayed trained on her  body, and she was very aware of the fact that she was standing in front  of him wearing only knee socks, a bikini, and a light tank top.

"He's strange that way, isn't he? So open about some things, so private  about others," Dunn mumbled. She frowned. His words were loaded with  tension and double meanings.

"Not sure what you mean. He's always been pretty open with me," she replied.

"Always. You've known each other a long time, huh? I didn't even know  Mathias had any kids," Dunn commented. Tate was surprised. Jameson had  talked about her family with this guy?

"Yeah, there's two of us, I have an older sister."

"He mentioned her, too. Sounds like you were very naughty in your younger years."

She narrowed her eyes. Jameson had talked about that!? And she was  liking this Dunn guy less and less. His voice was lascivious, and while  normally that wouldn't bother her, he was Jameson's partner. They were  in Jameson's home. And she was not the least bit attracted to Dunn. He  gave her the creeps on a seismic scale.

"We all have a past, don't we?" she brushed past him, heading to where her cell phone was plugged in and charging.

"Oh yeah. Your past just sounds more interesting," Dunn told her,  following her across the room. She frowned, pretending to concentrate on  her phone.

"I'll be sure to let you know when I write my life story," she responded.

"Or we could get together sometime and you could tell me yourself," he offered.

She snapped her head up, a little surprised. Though he hadn't spent a  lot of time with her at the party, she thought Jameson had made it very  clear to everyone that he had some sort of a relationship going on with  her. When he would stand next to her, he always draped an arm around her  waist. When she had been off by herself, at one end of the pool, he had  come up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, kissed  the side of her neck. Turned her to face him while he whispered very  dirty things in her ear, his hands running down her body. No one was  next to them, but they were well within sight of the other guests. So it  was a little bit of a shock to her that his business partner, and  friend, was hitting on her.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Tate laughed, moving to walk past him. He blocked her way.

"Why? Because of Jameson? He won't care, we've shared girls before," Dunn assured her. She snorted.

"I care, and I say no thank you," she snapped, trying to go the other way. He moved again.

"Just name your price, I'm sure I can match whatever Jameson offered."

Tate stood stock still, staring Dunn in the eye. Jameson had told him  that? Was telling people he had paid her to sleep with him? It was more  of a joke than anything, he had never actually given her any money. She  didn't want his friends thinking they could just slip him some cash and  they could fuck her in a dark corner of his house. She didn't want  Jameson thinking that.

How could he think that!?

"I don't know what you're talking about. Move," she ordered. Dunn laughed.

"It's okay, I'm okay with it. Jameson's okay with it," he assured her, stepping closer to her. She backed away.

"Is everything alright?" Sanders' clear voice carried across the room.  Dunn whirled around and Tate scurried past him, hooking her arm through  Sanders'.

"No, this guy is an asshole," she said. Dunn laughed.

"Oh, c'mon, I just -," he started, when Sanders cleared his throat.

"I believe you'll find Mr. Kane in the conservatory, with the rest of the guests," he interrupted.

"Oh, was he asking for me?" Dunn asked.

"No, but I assumed since you're soliciting services from a woman who has  been staying in his home, you would want to discuss it with him first,"  Sanders told Dunn, his voice like ice cycles. Dunn's face got hard, and  Tate smiled. Apparently Jameson was not "okay with" this little  proposition  –  based on Dunn's face, she would guess that Jameson didn't  know anything about it at all.

"We could go together," Tate offered. "Tell the whole story, do a reenactment. He'd love it. What do you guys think?"         

     



 

"Whatever you say, Ms. O'Shea," Sanders replied. Dunn huffed and stomped out of the room. Tate laughed.

"God, did you see his face? What a dick," she chuckled. Sanders nodded,  turning and leading her across the hall, in to the kitchen.

"Clearly. Would you care for a drink, Ms. O'Shea?" he asked. She nodded,  and without even having to tell him, he went and grabbed a bottle of  Jack Daniel's from a cupboard.

"You treat me so good, Sandy," she sighed as he sat the bottle on the  huge island in the center of the kitchen. He gestured towards the  glasses but she shook her head.

"Are you alright, Ms. O'Shea?" he asked in his careful tone. She  shrugged, moving around to the other side of the island so she could  face him.

"I don't know. I will be," she replied.

"Did he touch you?"

She lifted her eyes to Sanders, and for once, he was looking back at  her. He almost never made direct eye contact with anyone, except for  Jameson. His question surprised her. His voice lacked any emotion, like  normal, but there was something in his eyes. He was worried about her,  concerned. Tate was shocked.

"No, he didn't," she assured him. He nodded.

"Would you like me to get Mr. Kane?" Sanders offered. She shook her head and twisted the cap off the bottle.

"No," she laughed, taking a drink.

"I think he should know about this. He would be very upset," he told her. Tate laughed some more.

"You really think he'd be upset? I don't," she replied, taking an even bigger swig.