Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(37)
The moment she saw him, Tegen jumped out of Dorothy’s car. “Get this motherf*cker out of my mom’s car!” she screamed. “He’s already puked twice and I can’t be certain but he might have shit himself too!”
“Calm the f*ck down!” he shouted back as he punched in the sequence of numbers that would open the gate.
“Calm the f*ck down?” Tegen shrieked. Cage winced. Jesus f*cking Christ, this bitch needed to be strangled.
“He shows up drunk, scaring the crap out of my mom and making her cry, and now he’s puked and possibly shit all over her car, and you want me to calm the f*ck down?”
Nostrils flaring, Cage stormed through the open gate and right up into her face.
“Do you ever shut the f*ck up?” he growled. “Ever?”
Tegen closed the remaining inch between them. “Only when I’m taking it up the ass,” she hissed.
He was so used to Tegen’s dirty mouth that he’d thought nothing she said could faze him, but he’d been wrong. That statement caught him so far off guard, he nearly fell over. It also made his cock twitch. And a little pissed off. And, why the f*ck did she smell so good? Like soap and…breakfast. Damn. He was seriously hungry. For both food and *. Her *.
“You tryin’ to tell me somethin’?” he asked, pressing into her. As she started to back up, he palmed her back and pulled her flush against him, immediately grabbing hold of her ass and pressing his quickly growing erection into her stomach. The change in her was instantaneous; her eyes widened, her lips parted, and Cage found himself thinking back to last night, when he’d grabbed her in the foyer and then again outside. How every time he would physically touch her, she’d quiet the f*ck down and soften, not just verbally but physically.
And suddenly a lot of shit made sense. The way she treated him, always screaming and yelling and spouting off her hard-ass bullshit, always keeping her distance, refusing to be in the same room as him, it could only mean one thing.
Teacup still loved him.
He smiled down at her, watching her drink him in, watching her pupils dilate, and feeling her body relax even further.
“Why are you smiling?” she whispered.
Ha. No f*cking way was he that stupid. If he so much as mentioned the L-word to Tegen, he’d have a knee in his groin and a fist in his eye faster than a hooker gave out herpes.
“Stay,” he said, running his hands up and down her body. “Come inside. Back to my room.”
He knew the very moment he’d f*cked up. Again. As soon as “my room” had fallen from his mouth, Tegen’s body had gone stiff.
“Let go of me,” she muttered, pushing on his chest.
He didn’t release her. “Don’t start this shit.”
“Fuck you!” she cried, glaring up at him. “I’m not one of your whores!”
“No?” he yelled as she struggled to get free of him but he only tightened his grip. “Then what the f*ck are you?”
“To you?” she yelled back. “To you, I’m nothing!”
Cursing, Cage released Tegen and she immediately spun away from him.
“Goddammit, Tegen!” he shouted, running his hands through his hair, hating how crazy she was and worse, how crazy she made him feel. “When are you gonna let that shit go? I was nineteen! I was nine-f*ckin’-teen! I don’t even remember it!”
Glittering with rage, Tegen’s eyes went saucer-wide. “You really f*cking suck, West!” she spat. “You’re a waste of big dick and a pretty face!”
Cage’s mouth fell open.
What. The. Fuck.
He. Was. Going. To. Kill. Her.
Nostrils flaring, he took a rage-filled, deliberate step in her direction when, “What the motherf*ck,” a familiar voice growled. Cage glanced to his left and found his father standing on the opposite side of the car, peering down at Jase and grimacing.
“Wat up, little lovers,” Cox drawled, walking up beside Cage. The * glanced between him and Tegen, and grinned.
“You gonna stick around, Tegen?” Cox asked, looking her up and down, his smile full of dirty f*cking thoughts, blatantly checking her out, making Cage want to grab the f*cker and start ripping all his piercings out. Slowly.
Even so, he couldn’t blame the guy. She looked hot as f*ck.
She was wearing a man’s white ribbed beater, the bottom torn off, showing her tattooed midriff, no bra, her nipple piercings showing through the thin material, and shredded bell bottom blue jeans, two sizes too big for her, hung low on her hips. Her dreads had been swept to the side in a long braid that hung over one shoulder and tied together with a beaded strand of hemp.
And she was barefoot, her toes covered in toe rings, which, for some reason, turned him on something fierce.
“Are you serious?” Tegen asked, gaping at Cox. “Because I’d rather grow a dick out of my forehead.”
Cox shrugged. “You want a dick on your forehead, I’m sure little West is up for the job, seein’ as whatever the f*ck you did to him with that patchouli-smellin’ * of yours has got him all sorts of worked up, calling you his girl and threatenin’ me and shit.”
Tegen’s eyes grew wide and, suddenly embarrassed, Cage cursed.
“Fuck off, old man,” Cage growled, shoving at the crazy Puerto Rican.