naked sense. You're the one who keeps bringing up relationship status. I'm telling you, right now, that will not happen, so don't get your hopes up,” he said, his voice serious.
“So what, you just want me to work in your building, hiding in some dark corner, like a dirty secret? Not very enticing,” Tate told him. He shook his head.
“Not at all. Like I said, I would just like you ..., available to me , whenever I want,” Jameson tried to explain. She shook her head.
“ Well that's impossible. I have to work. I live in the real world, Kane, I have to make money, I have to pay rent,” she informed him.
“And I'm offering you a job here,” he responded.
“I am not going to work here. Besides, I love the bar, I would never leave it,” she said.
“So quit all the temp bullshit, the tours, the dog walking, ice cream trucks, drug running, and whatever else you do,” Jameson suggested. She laughed.
“And live off three nights a week!? I make pretty good tips, but I'm not quite there yet,” Tate laughed. His eyes were starting to get hard, she noticed. It was a look she hadn't seen in a long time, but she remembered it well.
“Then just work here, ” he said again. She shook her head.
“ No. I'm not doing that,” she replied. He rolled his eyes.
“ You know what? Fine. I'll pay you. For every day you miss out on a job because of me, I'll fucking pay you for it,” Jameson snapped out. Her eyebrows shot up.
“You'd pay me, to miss work, just so you could hang out with me and potentially have sex with me?” she clarified. He nodded.
“ Definitely have sex, and yes, If that's what it takes.”
“ That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You're gorgeous and rich – you could probably find women who would pay you to have sex with them,” Tate pointed out. He finally smiled again.
“Gorgeous, huh. Flattery will get you nowhere with me. And I make more than enough money, I don't want to get paid to have sex,” he replied.
“But you don't mind paying for it?”
“Not at all.”
“You don't find that strange? Paying someone for sex?”
“ I find it exciting .”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“But if I let you pay me, and we have sex, that would make me a whore,” she laid out the points bluntly. He shrugged.
“Do you really have a problem with that?” Jameson asked.
Tate had walked some fine lines in her adult life, done some things she wasn't 100% proud of, but she had never turned tricks. She liked sex, liked to use it as a weapon sometimes, but never to get paid. One time, when she was around twenty-one, she and some friends had been hard up for a good time. She wound up blowing a guy for some coke, and she'd felt guilty about it for days.
Was it still a game, or was it just being a whore? Fine lines were so hard to see. She was scared of what would happen to her if she stepped over that line. How far down the rabbit hole was she willing to fall?
“I'm not sure. I think I do. I'm not some prostitute. You can't just pay me, and then I have to fuck you whenever you snap your fingers, or blow all your friends in a circle jerk,” she told him. He laughed.
“Well, I don't normally attend circle jerks, so you should be fine on that point, and I wouldn't even have to pay you, and you'd still fuck me whenever I snapped my fingers,” he countered.
One point, Jameson Kane .
“Two thousand dollars,” she blurted out.
“Excuse me?”
“ I quit all my other jobs – except for the bar. That means all my days will be free, I'll be ' available to you ' virtually every single day. My salary for that is two thousand dollars, a week,” Tate informed him. He narrowed his eyes.
“Five hundred dollars,” he counter offered. She shook her head.
“Don't insult me, Kane.”
“One thousand.”
“Call me when you want to play for real,” she started to walk away. He grabbed her arm.
“One and a half,” he offered, an evil smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She gave
“So what, you just want me to work in your building, hiding in some dark corner, like a dirty secret? Not very enticing,” Tate told him. He shook his head.
“Not at all. Like I said, I would just like you ..., available to me , whenever I want,” Jameson tried to explain. She shook her head.
“ Well that's impossible. I have to work. I live in the real world, Kane, I have to make money, I have to pay rent,” she informed him.
“And I'm offering you a job here,” he responded.
“I am not going to work here. Besides, I love the bar, I would never leave it,” she said.
“So quit all the temp bullshit, the tours, the dog walking, ice cream trucks, drug running, and whatever else you do,” Jameson suggested. She laughed.
“And live off three nights a week!? I make pretty good tips, but I'm not quite there yet,” Tate laughed. His eyes were starting to get hard, she noticed. It was a look she hadn't seen in a long time, but she remembered it well.
“Then just work here, ” he said again. She shook her head.
“ No. I'm not doing that,” she replied. He rolled his eyes.
“ You know what? Fine. I'll pay you. For every day you miss out on a job because of me, I'll fucking pay you for it,” Jameson snapped out. Her eyebrows shot up.
“You'd pay me, to miss work, just so you could hang out with me and potentially have sex with me?” she clarified. He nodded.
“ Definitely have sex, and yes, If that's what it takes.”
“ That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You're gorgeous and rich – you could probably find women who would pay you to have sex with them,” Tate pointed out. He finally smiled again.
“Gorgeous, huh. Flattery will get you nowhere with me. And I make more than enough money, I don't want to get paid to have sex,” he replied.
“But you don't mind paying for it?”
“Not at all.”
“You don't find that strange? Paying someone for sex?”
“ I find it exciting .”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“But if I let you pay me, and we have sex, that would make me a whore,” she laid out the points bluntly. He shrugged.
“Do you really have a problem with that?” Jameson asked.
Tate had walked some fine lines in her adult life, done some things she wasn't 100% proud of, but she had never turned tricks. She liked sex, liked to use it as a weapon sometimes, but never to get paid. One time, when she was around twenty-one, she and some friends had been hard up for a good time. She wound up blowing a guy for some coke, and she'd felt guilty about it for days.
Was it still a game, or was it just being a whore? Fine lines were so hard to see. She was scared of what would happen to her if she stepped over that line. How far down the rabbit hole was she willing to fall?
“I'm not sure. I think I do. I'm not some prostitute. You can't just pay me, and then I have to fuck you whenever you snap your fingers, or blow all your friends in a circle jerk,” she told him. He laughed.
“Well, I don't normally attend circle jerks, so you should be fine on that point, and I wouldn't even have to pay you, and you'd still fuck me whenever I snapped my fingers,” he countered.
One point, Jameson Kane .
“Two thousand dollars,” she blurted out.
“Excuse me?”
“ I quit all my other jobs – except for the bar. That means all my days will be free, I'll be ' available to you ' virtually every single day. My salary for that is two thousand dollars, a week,” Tate informed him. He narrowed his eyes.
“Five hundred dollars,” he counter offered. She shook her head.
“Don't insult me, Kane.”
“One thousand.”
“Call me when you want to play for real,” she started to walk away. He grabbed her arm.
“One and a half,” he offered, an evil smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She gave
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