“Clearly you underestimate good sex, Ellie. I could never have 'enough' sex with Tate, and I can guarantee that I will never get tired of her, and I would most certaily never marry a girl like you. She didn't ruin anything – what happened between us that night was just a happy accident; I was going to end things with you. I wasn't going to marry someone like you seven years ago, and I am definitely not going to now,” Jameson said in a cold, hard voice. Ellie took a step back.

“So you admit it, you're paying her for sex?” she demanded. Jameson lifted an eyebrow.

“Glad to hear you paid attention to the important part of that speech. Have I ever once given you cash for sex, Tatum?” he asked, looking down at Tate. She pretended to think for a minute.

“Does that time you made me bite down on a roll of money, to shut me up, count?” she asked. Ellie looked like she was going to be sick. Jameson smiled.

“No, I made sure to get that back when we were finished. I had to pay the taxi, after all,” he reminded her.

“Then no. I have never received cash for sex,” Tate agreed.

“You see, Ellie, some people don't need to get paid for sex. If anything, you expect more in return for sex than Tate ever has – all she wants is to get off, which I can provide for very easily. You, though, you require a husband, a name, children, acceptance, the right car, the right house. And you're not worth that price, not at all,” Jameson explained.

If she had been the richest person in the world, Tate would have given every cent she had to have recorded that moment. Ellie's eyes bulging open, her jaw dropping down. Skin turning red. And hearing Jameson say that he would never get tired of Tate, even if it was an act, was priceless. She suddenly burst out laughing. Like hysterically. Like it was all the funniest thing she had ever heard, in her whole life. Tate bent over in half, stumbling forward.

“What's going on in here? Partying without me?” Robert laughed, joining them.

“I'm going to bed!” Ellie all but shrieked before stomping up the stairs.

“Life is always a party with the O'Sheas,” Jameson said in a dry voice before heading upstairs as well.

“Looks like it's just you and me, Tatum,” Robert's voice purred. She felt his fingers on her exposed back and she shuddered, stepping away from him.

“What are you doing?” she asked. He stepped closer to her again.

“Ellie's told me all about Jameson, about you and him. You got a thing for big sister's lovers? I'm cool with that,” Robert told her in a low voice.

Might have laid on the flirting a little too thick. God, rich people are way creepier than poor people.

“Well, I'm not, so no thank you,” Tate snapped.

“C'mon. She told me about Jameson, the crazy things he used to ask her to do for him. You must be a hell of a fuck, to keep a guy like him chasing after you,” Robert pointed out. Tate was a little shocked. This needed to end, now.

“Look, I do not have a 'thing' for Ellie's lovers – I didn't even have a thing for him, it just happened. It was an accident. I am not now, nor ever, going to fuck you, so you can fuck right off with that idea,” she told him, crossing her arms. He glared at her.

“You're a fucking tease. You and your sister. Fucking teases,” he snapped at her before pushing past her, checking her hard on the shoulder. She stumbled backwards and had to grab onto the banister, to keep from falling.

Mother fucker.

Tatum had been called a lot of things, but she was pretty sure that was the first time “tease” had ever been used.

She went upstairs as well, went in to Jameson's room. He was in the shower and she didn't feel like joining him, so she wandered back in to her own room. She was an odd combination of mad at him and grateful for him. He should not have ambushed her with her family, it was going too far – but it had felt better than words could describe to watch him put Ellie in her place, after all these years. To have someone back her up, when she said it hadn't been planned, that it hadn't been done on purpose. She was very thankful for him. It all made it hard to stay mad at him.

As she worked her way out of her dress, her mind went over Ellie's words. Robert's words. Slut. Tease. Tate was angry. She wanted to get back at them. They weren't so great. Six years, and one child – Tatum would put money on the fact that they never had sex. Ellie just wasn't a sexual person, and Robert was way too pervy; he had to be getting it elsewhere. Tate saw his type all the time in her bar, hitting on her when their wives went to the bathroom. It made her so angry. A thought crossed her mind. When she got angry, there was one thing that always made her feel better ...,

In just her heels, underwear, and stockings, she dashed across the hall, back in to Jameson's room. He was still in his bathroom, so she stretched across his bed. He took a long time in the shower, so she knew it could be a while. She rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. Imagined him under the water. Naked. Her annoyance at him was slipping farther and farther away.

When his bathroom door finally opened, she was laying with her legs sticking straight up in the air, crossed at the ankles. The room was dark and he didn't seem to notice her at first. He walked across the room, securing a towel around his waist as he headed for his luggage. He was about halfway there when he saw her.

“What's this?” Jameson asked, stopping. Keeping her knees locked and her legs straight, Tate let them fall open, while her head hung over the side of the bed so she could look at him from upside down.