“Oh my god,” she breathed, bringing her hand to her face. “This is beautiful. Jesus, Jameson, where did you get it?”
“Harry Winston.”
“Pardon?”
“Harry Winston. I had it made in New York. It took a while, I worked with a lot of designers. If it was going to sit on your finger, then it had to be perfect. No one else will have that ring. Just you.”
Tate stared at him for a second, tears filling her eyes. He hated it when she cried, but he was glad that she remembered. Glad she remembered as well as he did.
“There will never be a ring from Harry Winston. I will never ask you to marry me. I don’t want those things, I never did … I don’t want to put stars in your eyes, I’m not that guy. I’m the devil, and I don’t have any plans to change …”
I am so fucking stupid. I take back everything I said – I should’ve gotten her this ring in the beginning. We should have been together from the start. I am that guy, and I do want to see those stars in her eyes. Want to know I’m the only one to put them there.
Luckily, before Tate’s tears could spill over, she practically jumped on him, kissing him in a way that made the minister blush.
“Excuse me. Excuse me!” the man cleared his throat. “I haven’t gotten to that part yet.”
“I think they’re there, dude,” Ang’s voice laughed.
They broke apart long enough to hear the rest of the minister’s speech and thank him. Jameson gave him a huge tip before waving goodbye. Then he shook hands with Ang and thanked him for being there, thanked him for his calm demeanor. Ang laughed at him, then actually hugged him.
Jameson managed to keep his dinner down.
Tate threw the bouquet in Ang’s face before giving him a quick kiss goodbye, thanking him profusely and promising to wake him up early the next morning so she could yell at him for keeping everything a secret. Then she kissed Sanders, but there wasn’t anything quick about it. She practically dipped him, shoving her tongue into his mouth.
“Alright, alright,” Jameson snapped. She pulled away laughing.
“Told you,” she snickered, winking at Sanders. Jameson had no clue what that meant and chose to ignore it, walking a little ways back with Sanders.
“Thank you, for doing all this. I know it makes you uncomfortable,” Jameson said, resting his hand on Sanders’ shoulder.
“It’s not so bad, when I know the outcome will be a good one,” the other man replied.
“You had more faith than I did. She was so angry at the hotel, and then that was a looooong hour wait,” Jameson told him.
“Yes. She had somewhat of a break down in the car. Sometimes it takes her a while to realize what is good for her,” Sanders explained.
“Sometimes I think I’ll never understand her as well as you do,” Jameson sighed.
“A little mystery is good for a relationship.”
Jameson barked out a laugh and stopped walking, pulled Sanders into a hug.
“I’m so glad you came. There’s no one else I would want by my side at this moment,” he whispered. Sanders nodded, hugging him back.
“Not half as glad as I, sir. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
They pulled away, clearing their throats and blinking their eyes. They made plans for the next day, then Jameson said goodbye before turning and heading back to Tate.
“I almost thought you were going to go home with him,” she laughed. Jameson rolled his eyes.
“You have to obey me now, you took an oath, so shut the fuck up,” he ordered. She snorted.
“Yeah, good luck with that.”
“What do you want to do now, baby girl?” he asked, looking down at her as they strolled along the beach. She shrugged.
“I don’t know. This is your party. You didn’t plan anything beyond this?” Tate asked.
“Not really.”
“You suck at this.”
“Tate?”
“What?”
“Shut up now.”
“You know,” she ignored him, “if you had done this like a normal human being, there’d be a reception. A party, with people, things to do.”
“Ah. A normal human being. And what else would happen at a normal human being wedding?” Jameson questioned.
“Stuff. You’d throw the garter, I’d throw my bouquet, we’d do stupid dances, then you’d carry me over a thresh hold,” Tate prattled stuff off. Jameson sighed and stopped walking. He wrapped his arm around her waist, then yanked her legs up, cradling her in his arms.
“There’s no thresh hold, so this will have to do. Where’s your garter?” he asked, heading up the beach, towards a parking lot.
“I’m not wearing one.”
“Damn. Give me your panties, we’ll throw those instead.”
“Not wearing those, either.”
“You, Mrs. Kane, are a very, very bad girl,” Jameson said in a low voice. She smiled up at him.
“That I am, Mr. Kane. You should probably punish me,” she suggested.
“Oh, I intend to.”
Jameson carried her up to the parking lot, but what he saw when they got there caused him to set her back down.
“What? What is it?” she asked, straightening out her dress. He didn’t answer and she followed his scowl.
A group of guys was standing by the car Jameson had rented for himself. Most of them had large cameras hanging around their necks. How they’d found out what was going on, Jameson had no clue, but clearly, the secret was out.
“I didn’t want to have to deal with this,” he grumbled, and right then, one of the camera guys spotted them. They all began moving and shouting at once.
“Kane! Kane! Is it true you planned a secret wedding?”
Flash. Flash.
“Kane! Is it true that when Mathias O’Shea opposed the wedding, you blocked all his shares!?”
Flash.
“Kane! Why did you get married in Hong Kong!?”
Flash.
“Guys, if you don’t want to get arrested, I suggest you leave, now,” Jameson growled.
“Tell us about the wedding! Was Sanders there!?”
Flash.
“Give us a kiss! C’mon!”
Flash.
“Did I fucking stutter? I asked you to leave,” Jameson repeated himself.
Flash.
“Kiss her!”
Flash. Flash.
“Is it true you had a porn star as a best man!?”
Flash.
“If you take another picture, I’m gonna break that camera over your head,” Jameson threatened.
“Kiss her!”
Flash. Flash.
“Mrs. Kane! Why the secrecy? Didn’t you want a big wedding!?”
Flash.
“That’s it, you’re gonna -,” Jameson started, but Tate grabbed his arm. When he looked down at her, he was shocked to see that she was smiling.
“What did you just call me?” she asked the paparazzi that was closet to her. He looked flabbergasted for a minute.
“Um, I asked if you wanted to have a big wedding, Mrs. Kane,” he repeated himself. Her smile got even bigger.
“I like that. Okay, you boys get one picture before I turn Mr. Kane loose on you,” Tate offered. Jameson groaned.
“Give us a kiss! Kiss her!” All the paparazzi were shouting at once. Tate laughed and stood on her toes, wrapping her arm around Jameson’s shoulders.
“Just give them what they want,” she suggested.
“You better not get used to getting what you want,” he warned her, sliding his arm around her waist.
“Why not? I usually do, anyway.”
“Shut up, Mrs. Kane.”
Then he put on a good show, dipping her almost in half and kissing her soundly.
13
“Shall we look?” Tate asked, propping herself up.
“No,” Jameson moaned. “Sleep. Please, for the love of god, woman, let me sleep.”
“Did you really think I was g
oing to let you sleep on our wedding night?” she asked, then bit him on the chest. He jerked away.
“One of these days, you really are going to give me a heart attack,” he warned her.
“Good thing I inherit everything,” she pointed out.
“Hey, Sanders gets half.”
“Yeah, but I’ll just marry him after you’re gone, so same diff.”
“Shut up and go to sleep.”
“C’mon, let’s go look,” her voice lowered to a hiss as she wiggled her body next to his.
“Why do you like to look at that shit?” Jameson asked.
“Because it’s fun.”
“‘Fun’? Tate, it nearly destroyed us on not one, but two occasions,” he reminded her. She shrugged.
“It’s different now.”
“How so?”
“I’m your wife. I’m undestroyable now.”
Jameson couldn’t argue with that.
“Fine. Get the computer.”
Tate scampered off of the bed, ran out of the room naked. Then she came back in and jumped on the mattress, holding the laptop. He took it from her and opened it, resting it on his stomach.
“Go here,” Tate instructed, tilting the machine towards her so she could type in the Google search bar.
“You owe me for this,” Jameson warned her, working his hand into the hair on the back of her head.
“What!? It’s just an article, barely anything. How can I owe you for that?” she asked, ignoring him while she scrolled through web pages.
“Because I said so,” he replied, fisting his hand.
“Pffft, like that matters,” she snorted. He pulled sharply.
“Hey. Watch your fucking mouth.”
“You watch it.”
“I think having my last name has given you a new set of balls,” he told her.
“Ooohhh, then you must be extra excited about being married to me,” she joked.
Play time’s over.
Jameson rolled over quickly, causing her to shriek and the computer to fly off the bed. He pinned her down to the mattress.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” he growled. She smiled up at him, but there wasn’t anything sweet about it.
“I think you heard me,” she purred.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why do you always want to piss me off?” he snapped, driving his knee up between her legs, forcing them apart.
“Cause I think it’s fun,” she breathed, then gasped when his hand gripped her thigh roughly, yanking her leg up so it was next to his hip.
“You’re not gonna think it’s fun in a minute,” he warned her, moving so he was kneeling between her legs.
“I’m sure I will.”
Jameson didn’t care that they were both exhausted from having sex all night. Didn’t care whether or not she was ready. Didn’t care about anything but being inside her. He held onto his cock with one hand, pushing all the way inside her in one go, slamming his hips to hers.
“Fuck, Tate, you wake up wet for me,” he groaned. She managed a laugh in between her gasps.
“Only for you,” she breathed.
He pulled away from her and she moaned. He forced her onto her stomach, slapping her on the ass before pounding into her again.
Sex between them had always been different, special, because of the innate trust they had in each other. Jameson liked rough sex, liked to have heavy hands and heavier words. He wasn’t practicing some “art form” or “lifestyle”, he just got off on calling a woman a cunt and grabbing her throat. Tatum wasn’t looking for a “master” or a “sexual advisor”, she just got pleasure of out of being called a cunt and someone grabbing her throat.
For some people, sex was about leading a certain lifestyle, or almost a kind of performance art, and that was completely fine. Jameson believed people should do whatever worked for them, but it wasn’t what he and Tate were doing. They were just two people screwing. Fuck safe words – they didn’t need them, because it wasn’t a game for them. Jameson would never hurt her, and Tate knew that. It was trust. It was sex.
It was making love.
“Oh my god, we should get married again if this is how you’re going to act the next day,” Tate moaned. Jameson slapped her on the ass again.
“What the fuck does it take to shut you up?” he demanded, hiking her hips up higher and pumping as hard as he could. She groaned, pressing her hands flat against the headboard and pushing herself back into him.
“Not sure. Maybe you should keep trying,” she panted. He grabbed her hair and yanked, forcing her upwards. She moved her hands to grip the top of the headboard.
“I gave you a fucking wedding. I gave you a fucking ring. I gave you my fucking name. The least you can give me is what I want,” he snapped at her.
“I always give you what you want,” she moaned.
“Always,” he agreed, letting go of her hair and sliding his hand around to her jaw. She turned her head towards him, taking his index finger into her mouth. He groaned as she sucked on it, working her tongue around it like it was his dick.
“Fuck, Jameson,” she cried out as he moved his hand to her throat. Circled his fingers around it and squeezed.
“Jameson, Jameson,” he mocked her. “Now she says my name. Remember when you tried to call me Kane? Now that you share the name, you won’t say it.”
“Because it sounds good on me,” she chuckled.
“Fuck you. I made this name, it doesn’t mean anything on you, you stupid slut.”
“You may have made it, but I’ll make it better.”
Jameson let go of her throat and put his hand in the middle of her back, forcing her down so her face was flat on the mattress. Then he reached around her, forcing his fingers in and around all of her warm heat.
“It’s time for you to shut the fuck up and come.”
For once, Tate didn’t have any smart ass comeback – she complied. Tate was a full-body orgasm-er, he could watch it take hold of almost every inch of her. Watch as a blush spread across her shoulder blades, just like he knew it would be spreading across her chest. She cried out, dragging her nails down the headboard, and he felt her pussy lock down on him. He growled, dragging his nails down her back, and her whole body shuddered.
When all her muscles had relaxed and she was panting and gasping for air, her head half buried under the pillows, Jameson pulled away. She mewled in protest, moving her face so she could look at him.
“What are you doing, why didn’t you finish?” she breathed.
“Oh, don’t worry Mrs. Kane, I plan on it.”
Another thing Jameson thought was beautiful about being in a completely open, loving, trusting, sexual relationship – he could come whenever, wherever, he wanted to on Tate.
It’s the little things in life.
14
Tate rolled over and looked at Jameson. Smiled. He was asleep.
They had spent all day in bed. All day. Well, there was a trip to the shower, and another adventure on the balcony, so not technically all day in bed. But they did stay naked all day, which was pretty awesome.
She held her hand up, looking at her wedding ring in the moonlight. It was a gorgeous ring. Almost old fashioned looking, it had a large pear-shaped stone that was surrounded by lots of little diamonds, and it was all set on a thin, platinum band. But that didn’t really matter to her – she had married him thinking that there wasn’t any ring.
No, what she loved about the ring was what it symbolized. He had told her that he would never get her that ring, yet there it was; he had asked her to marry him. He had changed. He had given her everything she’d ever wanted. More.
Tate moved onto her side, ready to scratch Jameson awake, when something dinged behind her. She rolled over and saw that the laptop, which was still on the floor, had pinged to life, for whatever reason. The screen was ridiculously bright in the dark room. Jameson grumbled in his sleep and shifted onto his stomach. Trying to keep quiet, Tate slid sideways out of b
ed, then crawled on hands and knees to the computer.
She was just going to shut it, but the screen caught her attention. She’d totally forgotten about what she’d been trying to look up. She almost burst out laughing, had to cover her mouth with her hand. She glanced back at the bed before pulling the computer closer, scrolling down the screen.
There was a picture of her and Jameson at the top, walking out of a subway station in New York. He was holding her hand and his free hand was held up, blocking the camera flash. There were a couple pictures farther down, of them just two weeks ago, outside of the night club in New York. Tate wearing his jacket, giving the paparazzi the bird. That made her snicker even more. Then of course the oldie but goodie, Jameson and her standing in the rain, him holding an umbrella over her and kissing her.
But her new favorite picture was at the very bottom. It was the only picture she had of them on their wedding day. Jameson bending her into a dip, kissing her deeply. One arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand cupping her jaw. He was wearing one of his expensive, custom made suits. She was wearing a tube dress she bought at Forever21 for twenty bucks. So like them. So perfect.
Everything is so perfect.
News Flash
Financier Jameson Kane Keeps Girlfriend in the Dark, Ruins In-Laws
Late last night, thirty-three year old financial mogul Jameson Kane married long-time girlfriend, twenty-eight year old Tatum O’Shea, in a secret beach side wedding in Hong Kong. Speculators have long wondered when – or even if – the nuptials would ever take place. No engagement was ever announced, and the wedding itself seemed to have been spur of the moment.
Mathias O’Shea, father of the bride, and his wife were also spotted in Hong Kong, having dinner with the couple, but it is assumed they weren’t invited to the wedding. Shortly after their visit, O’Shea was forced out of his position on the board at J.P. Morgan, and shares in several of his companies began dropping. The O’Sheas are also being audited, and thus far the IRS has discovered several years worth of unpaid taxes and unclaimed income. As of yesterday, it is rumored that O’Shea is putting his family home on the market, to pay off some of their debts. It is unknown if the O’Sheas even know of their daughter’s wedding.
Completion (The Kane Trilogy Book 4) Page 13