He didn't answer, but he did remove his hand from between her thighs. He stepped into the V of her legs and she didn't hesitate, she immediately began pushing and shoving at the top of his pants.
“Not so worried about getting caught now,” he chuckled at her eagerness. Then it was his turn to groan as her hand wrapped around the base of his dick.
“Keep poking fun at me and I'll go find my new best friend, Rich Klimas,” she teased, stroking up and down his hard length.
Those seemed to be the magic words. Jameson's hand was suddenly on her chest, shoving her back into the window again.
“Your fucking mouth,” he growled, shoving her hand out of the way. “Always fucking pissing me off.”
“You love it,” she started chuckling, but it was cut off by a shriek as he slammed into her. The potted plants began to shake and rattle on the table as he pounded away.
He is in a hurry tonight.
“Yeah? You want to know what I love?”
“What?”
“When you shut the fuck up.”
She managed to laugh again and she pressed her hands to his chest, then clutched at his shirt.
“Some day I really will shut up, and you'll be sorry,” she warned him. He grabbed her wrists and held them together before raising her arms, slamming them against the window. A pane of glass cracked, but luckily didn't break completely out.
“That day will be a blessing. Fuck, Tate,” he grunted, grabbing her knee and lifting her leg up against his hip. “Why so wet so fast? Do barbecues turn you on?”
Tate smiled to herself.
God, I love pushing his buttons.
“Only certain guests at certain barbecues,” she whispered.
All movement stopped and Jameson's hand was back in her hair. He pulled hard enough that she was forced to stare at the ceiling. Her eyes watered from the sting and she took quick breaths through her nose while she felt his other arm coiling around her waist.
“Goddamn Tatum,” he snarled. “Always making me do things I don't want to fucking do.”
“Liar,” she squeaked out, then she gasped as she was yanked flush with him. He stepped away from the table, carrying her with him. He slowly turned so his back was to the window, then he lowered them to the floor.
“If you say one more thing just to piss me off,” Jameson warned. “I will fuck your mouth.”
“Promises, promises,” Tate moaned as she adjusted her position on top of him, rotating her hips in a circle over his lap. She almost went cross eyed. When she was on top, he hit spots that shut down her brain.
But after a while, the silence got to her. Orgasming was only fun when they got to do it together, and while she was perilously close to coming, she knew Jameson still had a ways to go. She licked her lips and pressed her forehead to his, pumping her hips faster.
“This is what you wanted,” she panted, scratching and pulling at his shirt until she was able to pull it free from his body.
“Always,” he breathed, dragging his nails down the length of her back.
“You think people will think you're a big man because you fucked your own wife at some party?” she asked. He managed a chuckle.
“You'd rather I was fucking someone else?”
“Might be more interesting.”
“Watch your mouth.”
“If you wanted to make a statement, why not just fuck me on the buffet table?”
“Because I don't like seeing trash served on my table.”
She laughed out loud.
“I know someone out there who doesn't think I'm trash”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Tate,” he growled.
“Maybe I should help him climb the corporate ladder, as it were,” she whispered.
“Stupid slut, you better shut the fuck up.”
“I can't remember the last time I fucked someone my own age. Could be fun.”
Apparently she'd gone too far with that comment. She let out a shriek when Jameson suddenly rocked forward. She fell backwards, her legs kicking straight up, and suddenly he was on top of her. Propping himself up so he could pound her straight through the floor. Her eyes rolled back in her head.
“God, yes, this,” she groaned. Her legs fell and struck the table, her calves catching on the edge and leaving her legs propped up in the air. Just when she thought it all couldn't get any better, she felt his hand on her neck, squeezing tightly.
Perfection.
“Such a bitch,” he growled, shifting up onto his knees so he could thrust harder. “Flirting when I asked you not to. Opening your mouth when I tell you to shut up. When the fuck are you ever going to learn?”
“Never,” she whispered, as a burning sensation started in the center of her chest and quickly started racing towards her extremities. “Never.”
“Never is fucking right. God, why are you always so difficult?” he demanded, his thrusts turning brutal.
“Because,” she was gasping for air in earnest. “It's the only way to get your attention.”
His grip on her throat got even tighter.
“Mission fucking accomplished.”
She couldn't hold it back anymore. She came hard, shouting out his name as her hands flew to her hair. She gasped and shook and cried out, pulling at her roots. When he leaned down and kissed her, his teeth nipping sharply at her bottom lip, the orgasm doubled back and regrouped, pulsing across every nerve ended. Her back arched and he finally let go of her throat, dragging his fingers down her chest and squeezing her breast.
“So perfect,” he groaned before slamming his hips home one last time, coming in a series of jerks and swear words.
“Oh my god,” she gasped for air after he'd collapsed on top of her. “Holy shit. Oh my god.”
“Language, Mrs. Kane,” he was panting as well, his voice muffled by her chest.
“I can't believe we just did that while there's a party going on outside,” she finally laughed, pressing her hand against her forehead.
“Better than doing it with a party going on in here,” he pointed. She wiggled her feet, which were sticking up above the table still and in full sight of anyone who might happen to look in the windows.
“Not much of a difference. This is gonna be more awkward than that time you fucked me in Hong Kong, when all those investors were in the next room,” she sighed.
“Good,” he replied. “I like making people nervous.”
“And jealous,” she added, smiling to herself. He snorted.
“Everyone is already jealous of me. What I wanted was to fuck you in front of him so as to leave him in no doubt of who you belong to.”
“Possessive words, Mr. Kane.”
“Goddamn right they are.”
“Rich Klimas isn't any kind of threat to you,” she promised, combing her fingers through his hair.
“Of course he fucking isn't. He's offensive, and that's worse. Now any time he comes sniffing around you, he'll have this moment in the back of his head. Like I said, mission fucking accomplished.”
Tate laughed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him close for a second. Then she started pushing him away.
“Get off, you weigh a million tons.”
Tate wiggled around on the floor, getting her bra back in place and putting her dress to rights. Jameson really had no shame and simply stood up, pulling on his pants as he moved. Then he stooped to retrieve his shirt and put that on, as well. She held out her hand and he pulled her to her feet.