“So where do you live in Boston, honey?” her mother asked.
“North Dorchester,” Tate answered.
“Oh wow, you must be a tough little thing,” Robert laughed. Tate laughed as well, winking at him.
“You have no idea,” she teased.
“Tate’s never had a problem getting down and dirty, have you?” Ellie snapped, sipping at her water. She was two months pregnant, and it was obvious by the way she eye balled the wine that sobriety was difficult for her.
“Oh never. In fact, I absolutely love it,” Tate drew out the words. Jameson cleared his throat.
“Tate has been working for me,” he offered up. The whole table went silent and stared at him. Tate wondered how truthful he would be.
“Oh? Doing what?” Ellie asked in a cool voice.
“Oh, just some work here and there, around my house. Making the place brighter, you could say. In exchange, I have been setting her up with a retirement account,” he explained, his eyes locked onto Tate’s. She laughed at him.
“Making the place brighter - it’s was I live to do, Mr. Kane,” she replied in a husky voice.
“Well, you are very good at it.”
Her mother interrupted then, not drunk enough – yet – to let the innuendos go over her head. Dessert was brought out and they ate mostly in silence, then retired to a drawing room. Mrs. O’Shea didn’t last much longer before heading off to bed. Tate followed her to the stairs and gave her a hug goodnight. When she turned around, Ellie was behind her.
“I know what you’re doing,” she snapped. Tate sighed. She was so tired.
“What am I doing, Ellie?” Tate asked.
“You stole Jameson from me. He was going to propose, and you ruined it all. Now that Robert and I are about to have a baby, you want to steal him from me, too,” Ellie replied, rubbing her hand over her belly. Tate laughed.
“I didn’t steal Jameson – in seven years, I never even saw him, not until a couple weeks ago. He was never going to propose to you, he told me that night that he was going to dump you, so I didn’t ruin shit. I just made it easier for him to end it. And trust me, in no way, shape, or form, do I want your husband, so you two can have all the babies you want,” Tate assured her. Ellie narrowed her eyes.
“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 hi
s 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.
“Oh really? I saw the way he was looking at you. What did he say?” Jameson asked, stepping closer to her. She shrugged.
“Stuff. Things. Since I have a thing for Ellie’s sloppy seconds, basically, why not give him a try. What a good fuck I must be. What a tease I am for not showing him,” Tate replied nonchalantly. Jameson was now pressed against her.
“Would you show him?” he asked, his hands pressing against her ribs and then sliding around to her back. She chuckled.
“If I could tie Ellie down and make her watch, maybe,” she replied.
“Kinky. Can I watch, too?” he asked, unhooking her bra and sliding it down her arms.
“I don’t think so. You haven’t been very good to me lately,” she pointed out. He laughed, pulling the towel away from his hips.
“Baby girl, I am always good to you,” Jameson countered.
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
“And your opinion doesn’t matter.”
And then it was like a switch. He ripped her panties away – the expensive ones he had bought for her – and grabbed her ass, forcing her legs around his waist, forcing his way inside of her. She cried out and slapped her hands against the wall above her head. She was going to put on a performance that Robert and Ellie would never forget.
It was almost comical at first – it was like being in one of Ang’s pornos. She said things she normally never said, things she laughed at when other people said them – “You fuck me so good, oh my god, your dick’s so big, oh yeah, harder, slower, right there, you’re amazing.” And of course his name, over and over again. Couldn’t let them forget who she was doing this with, after all. She even heard Jameson laugh at one point.
But as his thrusts got harder, the game melted away. She groaned and screamed for real, pounding one hand against the wall. Picture frames fell down. Books came off a shelf. There was a mirror across from them, and seeing their reflection, watching his muscled back and strong legs tense up, his hips moving against her so hard, it was practically her undoing. They hadn’t even been standing there that long, and she was already coming like a freight train.
He didn’t slow down at all. If anything, he pounded even harder. All his weight was pressing her in to the wall, one hand digging in to her ass and the other gripping her breast painfully. He pressed his face against the side of hers, growling at her through clenched teeth. Called her every filthy name she’d ever heard of, and a couple new ones. She was surprised, though, that he stuck to just names. Usually he liked to really degrade her, say horrible, horrible things about her, but not that night.
After what seemed like forever and two more orgasms for her, he literally dropped her to the floor and loudly told her to suck his cock. While she did so, he braced himself against the wall, beating his fist against it when she nipped at particularly tender areas. When he finally came, he announced it to the whole house, holding her head in place by her hair, pulling at the roots.
More of our games should be like this one.
“How was that? Good enough?” he whispered, breathing heavy as he leaned his forearms on the wall above her. She leaned away from him.
“It’ll do for now,” she joked, gasping for air as well while she wiped at her mouth. He groaned and grabbed a handful of her hair.
“I can’t wait to take you home and really treat you bad,” he grumbled, pulling her to her feet and leading her to the bed.
Me, neither.
10
Tatum woke up the next morning to Jameson chewing on her butt, literally. She laughed and slapped him away. He informed her that her father would be home in a couple hours, so she should probably get ready and brace herself. He offered for her to join him in the shower, but she knew that never led to getting ready, so she passed and sent him in on his own.
Grumbling, she pulled on her trademark socks, some booty shorts, and a long tank top before heading downstairs. Jameson had bought her an entire wardrobe for the weekend, all miss-priss clothing, but he had been thoughtful enough to include her usual sleep wear. It made her feel more comfortable, and she felt like she was more herself as she wandered in to the kitchen. Her mother was by a coffee pot, watching the coffee fill up.
“Good morning, honey,” her mother yawned. Tate managed a smile.
“Morning,” she replied, laying her top half across the counter and staring at the pot as well.
“I stopped and peeked in on you around five this morning, but you weren’t in your room. Where were you?” her mom asked. Tate glanced at her. Was this for real?
“I was in Jameson’s room,” she answered truthfully. Had the lady not heard anything?
“Oh my! I thought you were just friends!” Mother exclaimed. Tate stood up.
“We are. We are very, very good friends,” she emphasized. Her mother worried her hands.
“Do you think that’s such a good idea, honey? I mean, wh
at with Ellie and all, maybe it would be better to …, you know, not,” her mother suggested.
Is she fucking kidding me?
“Mother. I don’t give two fucks about Ellie, or how she feels,” Tate said in a hard voice. Her mother gasped.
“There is no need to talk like that! You should show some respect for your sister and her feelings!” she urged. Tate threw her head back and laughed.
“Is this a fucking joke? Why should I respect her? Or any of you? She hasn’t spoken to me in seven years, she still treats me like the whore of Babylon, and her husband hit on me last night, after she complained about me ruining things between her and Jameson. Daddy doesn’t even acknowledge my existence, and you only call me when you’re drunk and feeling guilty,” she spat out.
Her mother stared at her for a second, eyes swimming with tears, and then she rushed out of the kitchen, letting out a sob. Ellie came in at the same time, jumping out of the way. She watched after her for a second and then turned her glare on Tate.
“See. You ruin everything. Your little show last night was disgusting. Something is wrong with you,” Ellie hissed. Tate smiled sweetly.
“That show was the best sex you’ll never have, so you’re welcome,” she replied, blowing a kiss at her sister. Ellie bristled up.
“I’ve had good sex. I slept with him first, you know,” she snapped. Tate laughed.
“Not the same thing at all, Ellie. And it’s not a competition, who got him first, who got him last. I didn’t want him then, and I don’t have him now. You shouldn’t even care about who he is, or isn’t, fucking; you’re married,” Tate pointed out.
“But I should have been married to him!” Ellie suddenly shrieked.
“What did you say?”
They both turned to see Robert standing in a separate entrance way. Ellie groaned.
“It was nothing, I didn’t -,” she started.
“We need to talk, now,” he snapped before turning and walking out of the room. Ellie sighed and then glared at Tatum one last time.
“See!? Everything. You ruin everything,” she repeated before hurrying after her husband.
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