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Degradation(41)

By:Stylo Fantome


"You're just a slut, Tate. It's so digusting. I can see what's going on  between you two, 'doing work around the house'. Is that what you call  screwing? And he pays you? Now you really are a whore. He doesn't care  about you. Jameson Kane would never be with a slut like you. Some day  sex won't be enough, and he'll need a real woman, and that's when he'll  marry a girl like me. Not one like you," Ellie hissed.

Her words were true, and they hurt because they were true, but before  the cut could split open and bleed, Jameson walked in to the room. Tate  didn't even look at him, just kept her eyes locked on her sister. Tate  was a little shocked, though, when he stopped next to her and coiled his  arm around her waist.

"Clearly you underestimate good sex, Ellie. I could never have 'enough'  sex with Tate, and I can guarantee that I will never get tired of her,  and I would most certaily never marry a girl like you. She didn't ruin  anything  –  what happened between us that night was just a happy  accident; I was going to end things with you. I wasn't going to marry  someone like you seven years ago, and I am definitely not going to now,"  Jameson said in a cold, hard voice. Ellie took a step back.

"So you admit it, you're paying her for sex?" she demanded. Jameson lifted an eyebrow.

"Glad to hear you paid attention to the important part of that speech.  Have I ever once given you cash for sex, Tatum?" he asked, looking down  at Tate. She pretended to think for a minute.

"Does that time you made me bite down on a roll of money, to shut me up,  count?" she asked. Ellie looked like she was going to be sick. Jameson  smiled.         

     



 

"No, I made sure to get that back when we were finished. I had to pay the taxi, after all," he reminded her.

"Then no. I have never received cash for sex," Tate agreed.

"You see, Ellie, some people don't need to get paid for sex. If  anything, you expect more in return for sex than Tate ever has  –  all she  wants is to get off, which I can provide for very easily. You, though,  you require a husband, a name, children, acceptance, the right car, the  right house. And you're not worth that price, not at all," Jameson  explained.

If she had been the richest person in the world, Tate would have given  every cent she had to have recorded that moment. Ellie's eyes bulging  open, her jaw dropping down. Skin turning red. And hearing Jameson say  that he would never get tired of Tate, even if it was an act, was  priceless. She suddenly burst out laughing. Like hysterically. Like it  was all the funniest thing she had ever heard, in her whole life. Tate  bent over in half, stumbling forward.

"What's going on in here? Partying without me?" Robert laughed, joining them.

"I'm going to bed!" Ellie all but shrieked before stomping up the stairs.

"Life is always a party with the O'Sheas," Jameson said in a dry voice before heading upstairs as well.

"Looks like it's just you and me, Tatum," Robert's voice purred. She  felt his fingers on her exposed back and she shuddered, stepping away  from him.

"What are you doing?" she asked. He stepped closer to her again.

"Ellie's told me all about Jameson, about you and him. You got a thing  for big sister's lovers? I'm cool with that," Robert told her in a low  voice.

Might have laid on the flirting a little too thick. God, rich people are way creepier than poor people.

"Well, I'm not, so no thank you," Tate snapped.

"C'mon. She told me about Jameson, the crazy things he used to ask her  to do for him. You must be a hell of a fuck, to keep a guy like him  chasing after you," Robert pointed out. Tate was a little shocked. This  needed to end, now.

"Look, I do not have a 'thing' for Ellie's lovers  –  I didn't even have a  thing for him, it just happened. It was an accident. I am not now, nor  ever, going to fuck you, so you can fuck right off with that idea," she  told him, crossing her arms. He glared at her.

"You're a fucking tease. You and your sister. Fucking teases," he  snapped at her before pushing past her, checking her hard on the  shoulder. She stumbled backwards and had to grab onto the banister, to  keep from falling.

Mother fucker.

Tatum had been called a lot of things, but she was pretty sure that was the first time "tease" had ever been used.

She went upstairs as well, went in to Jameson's room. He was in the  shower and she didn't feel like joining him, so she wandered back in to  her own room. She was an odd combination of mad at him and grateful for  him. He should not have ambushed her with her family, it was going too  far  –  but it had felt better than words could describe to watch him put  Ellie in her place, after all these years. To have someone back her up,  when she said it hadn't been planned, that it hadn't been done on  purpose. She was very thankful for him. It all made it hard to stay mad  at him.

As she worked her way out of her dress, her mind went over Ellie's  words. Robert's words. Slut. Tease. Tate was angry. She wanted to get  back at them. They weren't so great. Six years, and one child  –  Tatum  would put money on the fact that they never had sex. Ellie just wasn't a  sexual person, and Robert was way too pervy; he had to be getting it  elsewhere. Tate saw his type all the time in her bar, hitting on her  when their wives went to the bathroom. It made her so angry. A thought  crossed her mind. When she got angry, there was one thing that always  made her feel better ...,

In just her heels, underwear, and stockings, she dashed across the hall,  back in to Jameson's room. He was still in his bathroom, so she  stretched across his bed. He took a long time in the shower, so she knew  it could be a while. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes.  Imagined him under the water. Naked. Her annoyance at him was slipping  farther and farther away.

When his bathroom door finally opened, she was laying with her legs  sticking straight up in the air, crossed at the ankles. The room was  dark and he didn't seem to notice her at first. He walked across the  room, securing a towel around his waist as he headed for his luggage. He  was about halfway there when he saw her.

"What's this?" Jameson asked, stopping. Keeping her knees locked and her  legs straight, Tate let them fall open, while her head hung over the  side of the bed so she could look at him from upside down.

"You sound surprised," she commented, bringing her legs back together  and then slowly fanning them apart again. His eyes followed the motion;  he loved her legs.         

     



 

"Three hours ago you were telling me you hated me. I was prepared to sleep alone tonight," Jameson explained.

"Tsk tsk, silly man. Just because I hate you doesn't mean I don't want to fuck you," Tate replied. He smirked at her.

"Someone is very angry," he said. She nodded and rolled onto her  stomach, driving her knees in to the mattress and using her legs to pull  her body back so she was sitting upright  –  classic stripper move. He  wasn't immune to it, she could tell interesting things were starting to  happen underneath his towel.

"Yes. I won your little game, I stayed. I want my payment," she informed  him, sliding her legs out from underneath her and moving to the edge of  the bed.

"And what exactly do you want? Maybe I don't feel like paying," was his retort. Tate laughed and stood up.

"Oh, you'll pay," she chuckled, walking over to the wall to her right.  She pressed her back against it, stretched her arms out along the wall.

"What's going through your head, baby girl?" Jameson asked in a quiet voice, walking towards her.

"I want you to fuck me, right here. Against this wall. As hard as you can," she told him.

"Seems like I'm winning on this deal."

Tate lifted a leg, stretching it out, touching his washboard stomach  with the heel of the expensive shoe he had bought for her. Dug in to his  skin a little, hoping for blood. He grabbed her ankle, held it against  his hip.

"I want you to call me every filthy name you can think of. I want you  fuck me like you absolutely hate me," Tate whispered. His eyes narrowed.

"Sounds like my kind of game What's the catch?" he asked.

"We can't move from this spot. This wall. I want you to pound me through this wall," she explained. He dropped her leg.

"Who is on the other side of that wall? Ellie and Robert? Very clever, baby girl. Very obscene," his voice was low as well.

"That's what I was going for. I won't be quiet," she warned him.

"Is this really what you want to do?" he double checked. His hesitancy  annoyed her. She arched her back, pushing her hips away from the wall,  and sighed. She let her eyes slide away from his, as if she were tired  of their conversation.

"If you don't want to, it's fine. I'm sure I can find someone else to  play with; Robert was very keen a moment ago," she said in a bored  voice. Jameson's eyebrows shot up. Now she had his attention.