“Don't worry about him, that's my job,” she laughed.
“Yeah, and worrying about you has somehow become my job,” he laughed back.
“I promise, I will chew through my restraints and come see you tonight. I'll call you,” she assured him.
“You had better,” he stated, but there was a smile in his voice, and she hung up the phone.
She breezed into Jameson's building and smiled saucily at the sexy secretary. The woman gave a broad smile back and Tate figured if Jameson chose to use his birthday gift to have a threesome, that woman wasn't such a bad choice. At least she wasn't Petrushka. Or Sanders. That would be awkward.
She listened to his personal secretary squawk long enough to learn that he was alone in his office, then Tate waltzed into the room. Jameson was on his phone, but his stare practically screamed at her. He didn't take his eyes off of her until she was seated in her chair, across from him. She leaned back, sitting casually while he talked about numbers and stocks and bonds and things she knew nothing about. He was wearing another suit with a fitted vest, and he'd gotten his hair trimmed, though he'd been leaving it long on top. He looked very much like a wolf in sheep's expensive designer hand tailored clothing. She squirmed around in her chair.
“You're very sexy when you're working,” she said in a soft breathy voice.
He held up his middle finger.
He talked for a while. It was obvious there were several people on the other end, as he switched tones of voice and languages. Fluidly between German and English, a little more haltingly between French and English, and the Mandarin was choppy at best. Though he still managed to sound like he knew exactly what he was talking about, at all times. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, Jameson got off the phone.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he demanded, steepling his fingers in front of his chest. Tate gestured to her crazy hair.
“Sleeping. I literally jumped out of bed and onto the red line,” she assured him.
“I don't give a fuck. I said noon, not noon-ish,” he reminded her. She shrugged.
“Too late now. We stayed up late,” she told him.
“Doing what, exactly?” he asked.
“Just some light bondage, nipple clamps, car batteries, things like that,” she said with a smile.
“Nothing in comparison to what I plan on doing to you.”
A shiver ran over her whole body and she had trouble not drooling.
“Sounds fun.”
“What did you to two do last night? Why am I giving Angier persmission to spend the night with you?” Jameson pressed. Tate sighed.
“He got upset about the Ellie thing, had a silly plan to make her jealous by making out with me. We stayed up late and ate pizza and ice cream. Very tame and non-sexual, I assure you,” she promised.
“I won't be allowing that again,” he informed her.
“Jameson, you can't me tell who I can and can't spend time with,” she pointed out.
“Wrong.”
She licked her lips and leaned forward.
“I actually have something to ask you. A favor,” she started, twiddling her fingers. He groaned and let his eyes fall shut.
“Just some sex. That's all I want out of life, money and sex. Why is sex the difficult one?” he breathed, dropping his head onto the back of his chair.
See? Just sex. That's all you are to him. Just sex, and eventually, he'll get bored and -
No. He's upset that you were with Ang. He's upset that you weren't with him. He cares.
FUCK, now I'm arguing with MYSELF. I need medication.
“I promise, I will give you sex any time you want, all the sex you can handle, if you'll give me a couple days,” Tate told him. Jameson lifted his head.
“What's your game, baby girl?” he asked softly. She shook her head.
“No game. I just want to borrow your condo,” she said. His eyes got wide.
“You want to borrow my condo? Well, gee, as long as you promise to bring it back,” he replied snidely. She rolled her eyes.
“I will. Just a few days.”
“Why?”
“Because Nick is in town.”
Jameson stood out of his chair and moved towards her quickly. Tate leapt up as well, moving away from him, putting the desk in between them. She had expected this part. Jameson always got mad at first, but then he usually capitulated. She could handle this, she just had to stay out of his grip long enough. If he caught her, sex was imminent, and when they had sex, he could get her to say and do anything he wanted. If she withheld sex, sometimes – rarely, but sometimes – she could get what she wanted. And then have sex. Win-win, really.
“You want to spend the night with Angier. You want to spend a couple days with Nick, in my condo. Anyone else you plan on fucking before I get my turn?” he asked, casually circling the desk. She kept skittering away.