Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(38)
Cox shoved him back. “Old man?” Cox shouted, sounding offended. “Old f*ckin’ man?”
“Cox!” Deuce shouted. “Make yourself f*ckin’ useful for a change and help me get this drunken shit outta D’s car. Cage! Go find me a f*ckin’ prospect and have them clean this up for Tegen!”
Embarrassed, pissed off, and horny, Cage stomped off across the tarmac, muttering curses and mentally berating himself for how he’d reacted earlier. But there wasn’t much he could do about it now.
Inside the clubhouse, he grabbed the first * he saw, Anger, a relatively new brother. He wasn’t a prospect but he was close enough. “Prez needs you out front,” he growled, shoving the guy in the direction of the front door.
The half-Native American turned his hard, angry, dark eyes on him, glaring, and Cage glared right back. Anger might have been aptly nicknamed due to his volatile temper, but Cage wasn’t scared of him. Quite the opposite. He thought the idiot was rather comical when he was off in a fit of anger.
“What?” Cage demanded, lifting his chin, silently begging the brother to start some shit with him. He would do well to release some of this pent-up…
Aggression? Sexual frustration? Or, how about Aggressive Sexual Tegen Frustration. Yep, he had a bad case of ASTF.
“Nothin’,” Anger mumbled. Cage stared after him, watching as he yanked open the front door.
“Watch it, f*cker!”
Anger reared backward as Tegen got up in his face.
“Fuckin’ bitches,” Anger muttered, sidestepping her and heading outside.
“Fucking bikers,” Tegen muttered, glaring over her shoulder at Anger’s retreating figure.
From across the room, Cage took it all in, the too-big arm holes of her tank, baring the sides of her small breasts, her long, sleek body, the small curve of her ass.
All those damn tattoos.
Hell, even her dirty feet were making him crazy.
Goddamn, he had to f*ck her again. She damn sure wasn’t going to go to his room, so what did that leave him with? His house? She hadn’t had a problem letting him dick-dive at his place.
Now he just had to figure out how to get her there.
“Tegen,” he called out. “Jase’s ride at D’s?”
“Yeah,” she said warily.
Perfect.
“Once they get the car clean, you give me a ride over?”
Her eyes narrowed; she knew what he was doing, but like he gave two f*cks. She liked to play f*cking games, he’d play them right the f*ck back.
“Yes or no?” he asked when she still hadn’t answered him.
Her teeth clenched. “Fine,” she hissed. “But keep your dick to yourself.”
His teeth clenched.
The second he had her begging him for it, he was going to zip up his f*cking pants and walk away laughing.
“Not a f*ckin’ problem,” he shot back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Screaming, Ellie bolted upright, her arms swinging out in front of her, her legs kicking furiously. It took her a moment to realize there was no immediate threat, that she was, in fact, still on Dirty’s couch, covered with an old black comforter, wearing the same sweats and tee she’d fallen asleep in.
It took her another second to realize that it hadn’t been her screaming but…Dirty?
Without thinking, just panicking, she scrambled out of bed, tripping over the entanglement of covers as she tried to run from the living room to the hallway, toward Dirty’s bedroom where those god-awful sounds of agony were coming from.
Grabbing the doorknob, she threw open the door and rushed inside and…froze.
Dirty was naked, curled up on his side, gripping his shredded pillow with one hand and the other was…
Oh my God.
Tears were streaming down his cheeks while he periodically cried out in loud gasping sobs.
“Please,” he begged, his voice hoarse and strained, sounding more like a little boy than a grown man. “Please don’t hurt me…please…please, Mommy.”
Mommy?
But he’d seen her, his eyes had opened and zeroed in on her, and now he was sitting up in bed, looking straight at her.
“You f*ckin’ bitch,” he seethed. “You disgustin’ f*ckin’ bitch!”
In a flash, he was out of bed and grabbing the gun on his nightstand. Ellie cried out as she spun around, her mind spinning. Where did she go? Right? Back into the living room or left, out his door and down the stairs and into the street? She didn’t know, all she knew was she had to get away from him. In the midst of her panic she made a split-second decision to turn left, deciding to take her chances with the street.
She had her hand nearly on the doorknob when she was slammed into from behind and thrown face first up against the door. The impact caused her surfacing scream to lodge in her throat.
“I dream about hurtin’ you,” he growled, pressing his face into her hair. “Hurtin’ you the way you did me. Doin’ all that dirty shit you did, not carin’ that I was screamin’, beggin’ you to stop.”
Ellie’s breath caught. He was still dreaming or…he was caught up in whatever he’d been dreaming about, hadn’t yet realized he’d woken, or was too entangled in the memories of his pain.
That’s when she felt it, the protruding hardness pressing painfully against her backside and the cool metal of the gun barrel being jammed against the side of her neck.