Reparation (The Kane Trilogy, #3)(13)

“Ooohhh, wow,” she breathed out, her shoulders lifting off the mattress.

“Tell me why you're trying to break them up,” Jameson demanded, pressing two fingers inside of her.

“Because,” Tate panted. “I'm angry at them.”

“Why? Why do you care who Angier fu-cks?”

“I don't care. I care that she's fu-cking him,” she replied, her head tossing from side to side as his fingers worked quicker.

“Why?”

“She stole my life away from me, my future. She doesn't get to steal my best friend, too,” Tate replied, a little surprised at herself for blurting it out so plainly. Those damn fingers. He stopped moving and she groaned.

“Seems to me the life you have now isn't so bad. Maybe she did you a favor,” he pointed out, dragging sticky wet fingers up her body. She managed a laugh.

“You would see it that way. I see it as more of a burden,” she teased him. Jameson glared, then pressed his two fingers into her mouth. She moaned, leaning her head forward to work her lips all the way to his knuckles.

“fu-cking Tatum. Didn't I tell you? No more games,” he growled at her, pulling his hand away and then yanking her shorts down.

“Jameson, you and I have never stopped playing games,” she pointed out, hurrying to pull off her bra.

“Such a bitch.”

“You bring it out of me.

“Shut up.”

He yanked her legs up, hooking her knees over his shoulders. Her hands went into his hair. Once upon a time, he had treated going down on her like it was some monumental thing, some amazing gift he was bestowing upon her. It was pretty goddamn amazing, but he wasn't so stingy anymore.

She wouldn't say it out loud, would barely even whisper it inside her own head, but she had actually realized, he was a pretty giving man.

Even scarier fu-cking thought.

When she'd had a big enough orgasm that she thought she was going to pass out, he finally let her go. While her head was spinning, he crawled back up her body, kissing his way to her throat.

“You're very good at that,” she panted. She felt his smile against her pulse, his fangs against her skin.

“I know.”

“Did Petrushka teach you how to use your mouth?” she asked bluntly. Jameson snorted.

“No. By the time I got with Pet, I had learned all my tricks,” he replied, leaning away from her enough to unbuckle his pants. Tate helped, using her feet to work them down his legs.

“All of them, hmmm? So I guess there's nothing new to learn from me,” she sighed. He laid all of his weight on her.

“Tatum, I think I learn something new from you every single day.”

Nice words scar so bad.





~3~


“If you won't talk to them,” Sanders started the next day, walking into the kitchen. “Will you talk to me?”

“What do you want to talk about?” Tate asked, holding out a spoon covered in brownie batter. She held it in front of his face until he took a taste.

“Paris. Last fall. Why you're trying to break up Mr. Hollingsworth and Mrs. Carmichael,” he said. She blinked in surprise.

“Jameson told you about all that?” she asked, dumping the brownie mix into a pan.

“I asked if he had talked to you. He mentioned it. May I ask why you're doing this?” Sanders pressed again. She sighed, opening the oven and sliding the pan inside.

“Because. I'm upset. I'm tired of feeling like people walk all over me. I shouldn't have to ask them to not be together – they should've known better,” she tried to explain. He shook his head.

“Sometimes, it is possible for a person to have no control over the people he likes,” he pointed out, staring at her very hard. She frowned.

“Jameson and I are completely different, he never -,”

“I was talking about me and you, Tatum.”

Well, isn't he just full of surprises.

“What are you saying, Sandy? You don't want to be my friend, but you just can't help it?” she laughed. He nodded, and her laughter dried up pretty quickly.

“When I first met you, I did not like you. I never liked any of the women Jameson brought home. But you wouldn't leave me alone. You talked to me. I grew accustomed to you. And then I started to appreciate you. I looked foward to us spending time together. Now, I'm not even sure how it happened, but I feel like I need to be in your presence. I did not want, nor did I ask, to love you. It just happened. Would you hold that against me?” Sanders stated.

Tate was completely blown away. Sanders loved her? Of course, she knew that he liked her. That they were friends. He had called her his best friend, once. Very touching. But people also referred to their dogs as their best friend – Tatum felt like a spaniel about half the time. But he loved her. Sanders loving anybody was shocking enough, but her ..., she didn't know what to do with that information.

Except feel like the goddamn devil – I am completely unworthy of him.

“Sanders,” she breathed. “I think I hate myself.”

“No you don't. You're just confused. Talk to him, talk to Mr. Hollingsworth,” he urged. She shook her head.

“I can't. I just ..., I feel like this is something I need to do. It's all I think about. Sometimes, I stay awake all night, because I can't stop thinking about ruining things for everyone,” she whispered, glancing at the doorway. Jameson was somewhere in the house.