Separation (The Kane Trilogy, #2)

by Stylo Fantome

But suddenly he felt very stupid. Brought down by a woman with black hair and dark eyes. A sexy wit and a sexier body. A bartender, coupon clipper, temp worker. A college drop out turned party girl, with loose morals and legs that rarely closed. So much better than him, in every way, shape, and form. Her only downside was thinking she could use sex as a weapon. She'd always been too naive to realize that sometimes, weapons can backfire. It had certainly backfired on him.

“I'm not acting out my psychological problems in bed. It is possible to like kinky shit just because you like it. If it seems like I treat women like shit, it's because I treat everyone like shit; women, men, orangutans, everyone. I'm not some damaged person, I'm just spoiled. I'm used to getting my own way, and when I don't, I tend to throw a temper tantrum. I have no problem admitting this – I have been getting my way long enough to expect it to just happen, and I have enough money to normally ensure that it does happen.

Jameson hadn't, however, counted on wanting her so bad that no one else even existed outside of her. He found himself thinking that he couldn't care less if he never fucked another woman again, as long as he could just be close to Tate. Just touch her whenever he wanted. If she said that, said she wanted monogamy between them, he thought he might actually say okay. For the first time ever in his life, he could almost picture it.

This is most definitely not a game anymore. This woman ... she owns me.

She had to know it wasn't a game anymore. It occurred to Jameson that maybe, just maybe, he was done playing games.