younger sister had always been a sex bomb waiting to happen. Leggy and tone, with chocolate eyes and a sexy body, he'd had more than a couple fantasies about her. But she was off limits. Too young, and too naive; not to mention the whole dating-her-sister thing.
Yet in the end, none of that had stopped him.
She'd come apart under his hands. Like clay. He had felt like he could mold her. Do anything he wanted to her. Say anything he wanted to her. Every word that crossed his lips, no matter what she'd said in response, she'd just gotten hotter. Needier. Pretty incredible. If Ellie hadn't come home when she had, he was pretty sure Tate never would've made it out the door. Ellie would've walked in on them in action.
Sometimes Jameson wondered how different things would have turned out, if that had happened.
He moved away almost immediately after the break up, didn't bother to keep in contact with the O'Sheas. His father died not long after, and Jameson pretty much filled his role in the world. Stocks and bonds. Acquisitions. Silent partnerships in a lot of businesses. On top of that, he inherited the family fortune. Jameson had more money than he knew what to do with – but that didn't mean he slacked off. He went above and beyond his father, was bolder, made more money, more connections. Garnered worldwide attention for his knack for making a profit.
He owned homes in Manhattan, Copenhagen, Rio – and now Boston. He dated supermodels and went to red carpet premieres. He had women falling at his feet. Life was pretty damn near perfect.
But then he had seen Tatum in that kitchen, and time had shifted. In the flash of an instant, he was back in his old apartment, talking so mean to her. Watching her cry. Watching her moan. He had to admit it, she had been a pretty powerful moment in his life. Profound .
She looked so different. Her curves had filled out a little more, but she still had the same tone frame he remembered. He would kill to see what her ass looked like now. Her dark hair had been pulled up in to a messy ponytail, making him think of sex. Her eye makeup had been dark and smudged, making him think of more sex. Her sarcastic smile and smart mouth were a complete one-eighty from the girl he had known before; this woman was a new creature. And he wanted to find out exactly what kind.
~4~
Tatum plucked at her shirt in a nervous manner. She had tucked it in to a tight pencil skirt and even put on a pair of sling back stilettos. If someone had personally requested her, she wanted to make an effort to look nice. She had blown out her hair and put curls in the ends, and toned down her make up. Even she had to admit it, she looked presentable.
For once.
Men in expensive business suits began to file in to the conference room and she stood still, giving a polite smile to everyone who entered. A team of lawyers was meeting with their client. Six chairs were lined up on one side of a long table, with just a single chair on the other side.
Tate had been positioned at the back of the room, next to a sideboard filled with goodies and coffee and water. She fussed about, straightening napkins and setting up the glasses. When all six chairs were filled on the one side, she stared at their backs, wondering who the big shot was that got to stare them all down. The person who would be facing her. A door at the back of the room swung open and her breath caught in her threat.
Holy. Shit.
Jameson Kane strode in to the room, only offering a curt smile to his lawyers. His eyes flashed to her for just a second, and then he looked back. His smile became genuine and he tipped his head towards her, almost like a bow.
She gaped back at him, positive that her mouth was hanging open. What was he doing there!? Had he known she would be there? Had he been the one to request her? Impossible, he didn't know what temp agency she worked for – but what would be the chances? She hadn't seen him in seven years, and now twice in two days.
Tate
Yet in the end, none of that had stopped him.
She'd come apart under his hands. Like clay. He had felt like he could mold her. Do anything he wanted to her. Say anything he wanted to her. Every word that crossed his lips, no matter what she'd said in response, she'd just gotten hotter. Needier. Pretty incredible. If Ellie hadn't come home when she had, he was pretty sure Tate never would've made it out the door. Ellie would've walked in on them in action.
Sometimes Jameson wondered how different things would have turned out, if that had happened.
He moved away almost immediately after the break up, didn't bother to keep in contact with the O'Sheas. His father died not long after, and Jameson pretty much filled his role in the world. Stocks and bonds. Acquisitions. Silent partnerships in a lot of businesses. On top of that, he inherited the family fortune. Jameson had more money than he knew what to do with – but that didn't mean he slacked off. He went above and beyond his father, was bolder, made more money, more connections. Garnered worldwide attention for his knack for making a profit.
He owned homes in Manhattan, Copenhagen, Rio – and now Boston. He dated supermodels and went to red carpet premieres. He had women falling at his feet. Life was pretty damn near perfect.
But then he had seen Tatum in that kitchen, and time had shifted. In the flash of an instant, he was back in his old apartment, talking so mean to her. Watching her cry. Watching her moan. He had to admit it, she had been a pretty powerful moment in his life. Profound .
She looked so different. Her curves had filled out a little more, but she still had the same tone frame he remembered. He would kill to see what her ass looked like now. Her dark hair had been pulled up in to a messy ponytail, making him think of sex. Her eye makeup had been dark and smudged, making him think of more sex. Her sarcastic smile and smart mouth were a complete one-eighty from the girl he had known before; this woman was a new creature. And he wanted to find out exactly what kind.
~4~
Tatum plucked at her shirt in a nervous manner. She had tucked it in to a tight pencil skirt and even put on a pair of sling back stilettos. If someone had personally requested her, she wanted to make an effort to look nice. She had blown out her hair and put curls in the ends, and toned down her make up. Even she had to admit it, she looked presentable.
For once.
Men in expensive business suits began to file in to the conference room and she stood still, giving a polite smile to everyone who entered. A team of lawyers was meeting with their client. Six chairs were lined up on one side of a long table, with just a single chair on the other side.
Tate had been positioned at the back of the room, next to a sideboard filled with goodies and coffee and water. She fussed about, straightening napkins and setting up the glasses. When all six chairs were filled on the one side, she stared at their backs, wondering who the big shot was that got to stare them all down. The person who would be facing her. A door at the back of the room swung open and her breath caught in her threat.
Holy. Shit.
Jameson Kane strode in to the room, only offering a curt smile to his lawyers. His eyes flashed to her for just a second, and then he looked back. His smile became genuine and he tipped his head towards her, almost like a bow.
She gaped back at him, positive that her mouth was hanging open. What was he doing there!? Had he known she would be there? Had he been the one to request her? Impossible, he didn't know what temp agency she worked for – but what would be the chances? She hadn't seen him in seven years, and now twice in two days.
Tate
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