Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(67)

“It’s a proven fact,” he continued, “that women have a higher tolerance for pain than men do. I believe it stems from the fact that women are built to bear children, whereas men—”

“Do you want to go f*ck?” I interrupted, bored to tears yet filled with an anxiety-ridden sense of longing that I couldn’t seem to shake.

David’s eyes widened. “What?”

I snorted. “You heard me, f*cker. Yes or no?”

“Uh…” Bewildered, David shook his head. “Yes?”

“Great,” I said curtly, already getting to my feet. “Let’s go.”

Scrambling to his feet, David yanked his wallet out of his pocket and quickly tossed several bills on the table. Then we headed toward the exit and were on our way back to my place.

As soon as my apartment door closed behind us, David’s greedy hands were all over me. Closing my eyes, mentally detaching my soul from my body, I let him do whatever he wanted. I didn’t care; I just wanted the pain to stop.

Self-destruction, I thought bitterly. Party of one, please.

? ? ?

Positioned behind her, Cage gripped the woman’s thigh, raising her leg, and pushed inside her body.

Several strokes passed and he whispered, “Feel good, babe?”

He stopped moving. Every time. He said the same damn thing to every bitch he f*cked, every f*cking time.

“Oh yeah, baby,” she whispered back while grinding her backside against his hips. “Sooo good, baby, sooo big and so good.”

Already bored with her, he reached for her chin, gripped it, and turned her head to the side, giving him better access to her lips. Crushing his mouth to hers, he shut her right the f*ck up and resumed f*cking her, faster this time, not too fast but rhythmic. The slap of bodies, the sound of messy kissing, her breathy moans escaping when he allowed her small glimpses of air.

It was all the same.

He was on autopilot. He wasn’t even attracted to her.

Average body, average face, only attractive because she was still young.

Why was he even hard?

Of course he was hard. Of-f*cking-course. Why wouldn’t he be? This was what he did. It seemed like he did it for a living. He should be getting paid for his motherf*cking services, he did it so damn much.

And all he could think about was not this stupid bitch, but another woman. One who’d played the f*cking game as good as he did.

But he kept at it, kept at f*cking the bitch until she was soaking wet and whimpering against his mouth. Reaching between her legs to where they were joined, he found her. He worked her skillfully, doing the same damn thing he’d done a million times before to a shit ton of different women.

“Cage,” she gasped, sucking in a sharp quick breath as her body locked up. He stopped kissing her and watched as her eyes rolled back, her eyelids fluttering wildly, feeling the usual sort of detachment he usually felt watching a woman orgasm. From his position behind her, he saw her toes curl and the tendons in her feet bulge.

“One more,” he said blandly, still using his fingers on her. “Gimme one more, babe.”

She came again and that’s when he decided enough was enough. Pulling out of her, he pushed her onto her stomach and took her again from behind, this time with her ass in the air. He f*cked her. Hard. And came within a few short minutes, feeling like he’d just emptied out nothing but air, leaving him feeling even emptier than when he’d started out.

“You can go,” he muttered, flopping onto his back and reaching to his nightstand for his smokes.

“Sorry?” she asked as she got to her knees, pushing her shoulder-length brown hair out of her eyes.

A cigarette pressed between his lips, he glanced her way. There was nothing remotely interesting about her. She was just tits and a *, neither of which were all that remarkable.

Not one damn thing. Once she left his house, he probably wouldn’t even recognize her if he ran into her two days later.

“You,” he repeated harshly, “can go. Now.”

Her eyes widened and just as he knew she was about to start sputtering nonsense at him, he pulled his smoke from his mouth and pointed the cigarette at her. “Just go, bitch. Don’t bitch or whine or start f*ckin’ cryin’. You knew what this was from the get-go and don’t be pretendin’ somethin’ different.”

In an angry rush, muttering curses, the girl scrambled for her clothes while Cage turned away from her and faced the wall. That had been the fourth bitch he’d f*cked since Tegen had disappeared on him.

One was a club whore he’d f*cked a million times, two were local waitresses, and now this bitch. He had no idea what any of their names were. And to be honest, he didn’t give a f*ck either.

He heard the pitter-patter of angry footsteps running down his stairs and—

He cringed as his front door slammed shut.

Whatever.

Sighing, he sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and crushed his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. Running his hands through his unbound hair, he looked around the room.

Dresser. Mirror. Closet door.

He’d told that f*cking psychopath that he’d loved her and what did she do? Snuck out in the middle of the night. She hadn’t said it back either.

That resolve he’d seen in her eyes while he’d been sliding inside of her…it hadn’t been for him. It had been to leave him.