Reparation(74)

“Well, I'm good at working in a team. I'm strong. I make a lot of money. Some people say I'm nice, and a lot of people tell me I'm good looking,” Nick laughed. She laughed as well.

“All good things, I'm sure. I just don't know if those are things I want,” she told him.

“What does Tatum O'Shea want?” he asked. She chewed on her lip.

“I don't know, most of the time. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will.”

“Then how can you be so positive you don't want me?” he pointed out, and the elevator came to a stop. They got out on her floor.

“Nick ..., okay. So we date. We have sex. We go out on lots of dates. And I still feel the same way. What then? I lose another friend?” she pointed out.

“I'm not that weak, Tate. You're stuck with me. I'm not gonna hate you, just because you don't like me. I'm just asking for a chance to change your mind,” he explained. She snorted.

“You say that now, but most men wouldn't be so okay with it after the fact. 'So how was that, baby?', 'Good, but I was picturing the last guy who fucked me, the whole time,' - you okay with that?” Tate asked bluntly. Nick stepped up close to her, pressing her into her door.

“No. But I am very confident in my abilities to make you forget him,” he said softly. She sighed, looking up at him.

“No offense, Nick, but I'm not,” she whispered.

He leaned down and kissed her. She didn't want to, but she kissed him back. She had to do something. Sever a tie. Cut her losses. She was already heading in this direction – at least she had warned Nick that she most likely wouldn't like him. That she wouldn't be thinking of him. Because she certainly wasn't right at that moment

She fumbled to open her room door, and he pushed them through it, yanking her up against him. She pressed her hands to his chest, not knowing how far she wanted things to go between them. Kissing was fine. Sex? Hmmm ..., she didn't know if she was willing to test that theory quite yet.

How far down the rabbit hole are you going to go, baby girl?

“We're good together,” Nick whispered, his lips wandering down her chin as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“That doesn't necessarily mean we'll make a good couple,” Tate whispered back, as he pushed her jacket away from her shoulders.

“We were good together once before,” he reminded her. She laughed.

“That was a whole lifetime ago. A whole different girl,” she warned him. His hands ran down her body.

“Then let me get to know this girl,” he pressed, his hands sliding over her hips.

“She might not like you, either,” she warned him.

“She might love me.”

“Nick, I don't want to hurt you,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“No expectations, Tate. No pressure. Just give me a chance,” he said softly, squeezing her butt and lifting her up, walking her backwards.

“You say that, but what about tomorrow? I don't want you to hate me,” she told him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

I don't want to hate myself.

“I won't hate you, no matter what.”

You need to do this. You need to get over him. You need to at least try.

He laid them on the bed, put his weight onto her. Tate always loved that, feeling a heavy frame pressing down on her own. He bit his teeth into her bottom lip, pulled on it, and she loved that, too; loved it when he nipped at her ear lobe. Loved his hands, running over her breasts, clenching, massaging.

Nick peeled her clothes off, kissed his way down her body. She lost herself in the feel of his skin, the movements of his muscles. He rolled them around on the bed. His arms were so strong, she felt like he could just throw her around. But of course, he didn't. His touch was gentle, his words kind. He worked above her, pressed his lips to her ears, whispered sweet things to her. His body felt amazing, his skin hot to the touch, and his hips were pounding her straight towards an orgasm. What wasn't there to like?

It feels wrong, and you know it. But get used to this, cause it's your future. Settling for not quite what you want, but definitely what you need.

Nick came right after she did, stiffening on top of her, then collapsing. Tate took deep breaths, staring up at the ceiling. She wondered if this was going to be forever. Wondered what Sanders would think if he knew. Wondered what Jameson would think. She felt like he was in the room, sitting in a dark corner, watching her.

“Is that the best you could do, baby girl?” he would've laughed.

I gave it all I got.

“You gave me so much more,” he would add.

I gave you everything.

“Well, it's only fair – it all belongs to me,” he would remind her.

I know. It always has.

“Good. Remember that. And next time, ask him to talk dirty to you. It'll remind you of me.”