Reparation (The Kane Trilogy, #3)(39)

“Shhhh. Good things come to those who wait. You want to spend the next few days with your boyfriend? Fine. Then you have to wait for me to give you what you need,” he replied.

It was only fair. She continued to squirm around on top of his desk, wanting his finger back. Wanting him to finish what he'd started. She wanted to finish him. Her eyes flicked down to the desk, then to his crotch. Down again, then up again.

“How much time is left?” she breathed, shoving him back and hopping off the desk.

“Maybe five minutes. Why? What are you thinking?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I'm thinking I might be able to fit under this desk almost as well as the desk at home.”

“Such a whore, baby girl. I love it.”



*



Of course Jameson didn't like the idea of her spending time downtown, alone, hanging out with Nick Castille. He fu-cking hated the idea. When she first brought it up, he had wanted to slap the idea right out of her fu-cking head. Who did she think she was!? Who did she think she was dealing with!? She wasn't allowed to galavanting off, just fu-cking whomever she pleased, and using Jameson's condo to do it. fu-ck that.

But then she had asked for the time to think. And thinking was good. She was so close to just letting go. He could feel it. Whatever she and Sanders had talked about had changed something. Brought her around in a way Jameson hadn't been able to. She looked at him different, treated him different. There was a wall that was gone. The detachment was gone from her eyes. She was finally really looking at him again. After so long.

It was nice.

So if he needed to let her go, again, so she could figure shit out, then he would do it. For her. Only for her.

But good god, was she going to pay when she got home.





~7~


Tate met up with Nick later that evening, at a sushi place on a busy street. She got there before him and was able to watch as he approached. He was an exceedingly good looking guy. He smiled at everyone, a sort of sideways smile, his bottom lip pulling to the right. Chocolate brown eyes, soft brown hair. Built body. Kind soul. She smacked herself every day, for not being able to just like him back. But apparently she prefered ice cold blue eyes and fangs for smiles. She liked her toys to have a little bite, and Nick was all cuddle.

“How are you!?” he exclaimed, bustling up to their table. She had barely stood up when he wrapped her in a hug.

“Good! God, it feels like forever!” she laughed, hugging him back. He finally pulled away and held her at arms length.

“You looking amazing,” he breathed, letting his eyes travel down her form.

“I guess you haven't seen me in a while,” she commented, looking down at herself. The shirt she was wearing showed more bra than shirt at the top, and her leggings had a geometric pattern sweeping all across them.

“You look more like you, like the girl I met in the bar,” he replied. She burst out laughing.

“Oh god.”

“No, it's nice. You look like you feel comfortable in your own skin again,” he explained, sliding into a chair. She sat down as well.

“Well, I'm still not that girl, just so you know. There will be no free-fu-cks in the back of bars this week,” she warned him.

“Jesus, your mouth is amazing.”

Huh, Jameson always says the same thing.

“So what's up? How've you been? How is Arizona?” Tate asked, pulling out a menu.

“Hot. I'm not a big fan. You ever gonna come visit me?” he asked, looking over a menu as well. She winced.

“I don't know. Things are complicated right now, I don't think flying across the country to stay with another man is gonna help anything,” she pointed out. He smiled at her.

“You really like him, don't you?” he asked. She frowned.

“Does that make me a horrible person? I really worry about that, that I shouldn't be allowed to like him, after everything he did,” she said quickly. Nick shrugged.

“No. You can't help it. What makes you a horrible person is not liking me,” he teased. She groaned.

“Don't remind me – I tell myself that every day,” she assured him.

“Maybe if you slept with me again, I could help you forget him?” he suggested, in a halfway joking tone.

Yeah, right. There aren't enough men in the world to fu-ck Jameson Kane out of my memory.

“You know what, if he fu-cks me over again, I will definitely take you up on that offer,” she joked.

“So that's it, huh. You're going to stay with him? Try to be with him?” he asked. She sighed.

“I don't think I have much of a choice. I can't ..., get away. My brain. He owns it,” she replied.

“But what about your heart?”

“My heart ....,” she paused for a while, staring off into space. “I think he's had that since I was eighteen.”

“Well, shit. I don't stand a chance,” Nick tried to joke, to lighten the mood. She reached out and grabbed his hand.

“If I could choose anyone else, trust me, it would be you,” she said softly. He nodded.

“Sure, sure. Whatever. C'mon, help me drown my sorrows in sake.”

Nick drank sake, Tate drank water. It was one thing to get tipsy with Sanders and cry in front of Jameson. She wasn't about to do any of that with Nick, and after his second bottle was done, she distracted him from ordering another.