“All you think about is sex.”
“Nothing wrong with that. It's your fault, anyway.”
“I aim to please.”
She had made it pretty clear that she wanted to come on his dick, and she did – but before he could come, he slid down her body and latched his lips back onto her pussy. For having gone on and on about doing her such a big favor by eating her out, how it wasn't something he “ever really did”, he couldn't seem to stop. He was like a man possessed. It wasn't until she was so oversensitized that even the idea of another orgasm was uncomfortable, that he finally stopped. She laid on her back, trembling and shaking, her hands above her head.
“Please, too much, no more,” she gasped for air, rubbing her thighs together. He worked his way up her body, pausing at her breasts, his fingers circling a nipple, pinching it. Her back arched up and she whimpered.
“I could do this all night,” Jameson breathed, his teeth going to the nipple.
“If only I had a twin,” she joked.
“Jesus christ, I would die.”
“But very happy. You would die a very happy man,” she pointed out. He lifted his face to hers, rubbed his nose against her cheek.
“You're better than any set of twins, any threesome, I've ever had. You better be careful, Tatum, or my claws will get in too deep for you to ever get away,” he warned her. His voice was soft, but his words carried weight. They settled on her chest, interfered with her heart beat. She opened her eyes and stared at his ceiling.
“I like it better when you say mean things,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“They don't hurt as much.”
Jameson was silent for a while and then he rolled her over, slapped her on the ass. Called her a stupid slut for listening to anything that came out of his mouth in bed. Held her down by her shoulders and fucked her hard.
That was her comfort zone. She felt like if he was nice to her, if he was sweet to her, she would forget what was really going on, forget her place in the grand scheme of things. And he was Satan, after all. He would make sure to put her back in her place. That would be real pain, and she couldn't handle that, not from him. Not again.
I'm losing this game.
~9~
“Wake up.”
Something smacked hard against Tatum's ass and she jumped a little, propping herself up. Jameson was leaning over the bed, a paddle brush in his hand. She yawned and raised an eyebrow at him.
“A little early, but okay¸ at least we're finally getting to the good stuff,” she joked. He laughed and spanked her again before pulling away.
“Everything I give you is good stuff; you haven't earned the right to play with toys yet,” he informed her. She snorted and rolled over in the bed.
“Why are you so chipper? It's too early,” she groaned.
“We're going somewhere. Get up and get showered!” he barked, disappearing in to his closet. She sat up.
He was taking her somewhere? Jameson never took her anywhere, except for maybe out to eat, once in a while. Never in the mornings. They almost only ever did stuff at his house. Was this going to be like a date? Sanders' words came back to her, as well as some of Jameson's own words. She felt giddy. He had been very sweet to her the night before, said things she never would have thought he'd say. Maybe the tide was turning. Maybe Satan was growing a heart.
Tate hustled in to the shower, hurried through her routine. When she got back out of the bathroom, Jameson was nowhere to be found, though there was a dress laid out on the bed. A tight black number, very prim and proper. Probably very expensive. While she fingered the material, her cell phone started going off, so she crawled across the bed to grab it. Rusty's phone number flashed across the screen.
“Hey, I meant to call -,” Tate answered, but a shrill scream stopped her.
“OH MY GOD HOW COME YOU DIDN'T TELL ME!?!?” Rus was yelling. Tate yanked the phone away from her ear.
“Jesus, I'm deaf now, thanks. Tell you what?” Tate asked.
“The rent! It's amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you so much, this will totally help me with so many things!” Rus was gushing on and on.
Rent? What about the rent? After Ang had crawled to her place, begging for forgiveness on his hands and knees, Tate had spent most of the week at his apartment, avoiding her landlord. She would sneak in her window at night, and then back out again in the morning. So she had no clue what Rus was talking about – as far as Tate knew, they were still two weeks late on their rent.
“What's amazing, Rusty!? I don't know what you're talking about!” Tate snapped. There was a melodramatic sigh.
“Oh my god, it was him, wasn't it? I bet it was. I ran in to Mr. Malley in the hall, and I was all prepared to beg, and cry, and plead, or offer your body up for sacrifice, when he said to say thank you to you, for paying the next six months rent in advance,” Rus said in one quick breath.
Six months!?
Tate fell back against the pillows. She was blown away. Jameson must have done it, no one else she knew had that kind of money. Why would he do that? They joked about him paying her, but he never actually had. Was paying her rent considered payment? Or was he just being a nice guy? He'd gotten awfully upset when he'd found out that she owed money. Maybe he was just trying to rectify the problem.
“I didn't know that he'd done that, he didn't tell me,” Tate mumbled in to the phone.
“Aw, maybe it was a secret and I ruined it. I'm so sorry, I was just so excited! I can finally afford those vet tech classes! Tell him I said thank you? What a sweetheart,” Rus sighed in to the phone. Tate snorted and rolled onto her stomach, picking at the bedspread.
“He didn't do it to be nice, Rus. He'll want something in return. I don't call him 'Satan' for no reason,” she laughed.
“Shut up and try not to ruin this one! For once, you found a guy who treats you the way you like and also does nice things for you. You better do whatever it takes to hold onto him, understand!? If you don't, tell him to call me, and I will!” Rus snapped, and then the line went dead. Tate made a face and dropped the phone. Rusty sleeping with Jameson. There was a thought. He would eat her alive.
“I'm Satan, am I?” Jameson's voice was behind her. She pulled herself to her knees and turned to face him.
“Mostly in my head, that's how I refer to you,” she told him. He laughed as he walked across the room, carrying a black, carry-on type of roller bag.
“How flattering. You've already heard everything I like to call you,” he said. She cleared her throat.
“Did you pay my rent?” she asked. He glanced at her.
“Yes. Last week, when I left your apartment,” he told her, sitting the bag at the foot of the bed and opening it.
“Why would you do that?” she asked, crawling down and kneeling behind the bag.
“Because your rent was late. That's horrible. And if you were so far behind that you couldn't pay it, I knew that meant you would have to work more to make the money. I didn't want that, I like having access to you at any time. It seemed the only answer was paying your rent for you,” Jameson explained, disappearing in to his closet.