Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(70)

She didn’t even notice him. She was too f*cking busy noticing the two guys who were mauling her, one with his hand down the front of her jeans, the other palming her breast while he went to town on her neck.

Shaking, Cage pulled his gun from the back of his leathers and aimed. The first bullet hit the right speaker, the second one the left, and the music stopped instantly. All eyes flew to him.

“Get out!” he roared, gesturing with his gun. “Get the f*ck out before I blow a f*ckin’ hole in every f*ckin’ one of you!”

Screaming, people started scrambling, grabbing their shit and running for the door, edging fearfully around him as they scurried around the room.

One of the skinny, stupid motherf*ckers that had had his hands all over Tegen looked back and forth between Cage and her.

“Tegen?” he asked warily.

“David,” Tegen said, her eyes on Cage. “Go.”

“But—”

“Just go, David!” she screamed.

“But—”

“GO!” Cage roared, pointing his piece at the motherf*cker’s forehead.

He got.

Tegen pushed herself up off the couch and stood. “You know the cops are gonna be here any second, right?” she yelled.

“YES!” he shouted. “And I don’t give a motherf*ck!”

He should care. He should care that his father was going to lose his shit when he found out that he hadn’t even made it to Oakland, that instead he’d come straight to San Francisco, straight to Tegen. But he didn’t. What he cared about was her.

“God, you are really stupid,” she muttered.

His nostrils flared. “I ain’t stupid,” he spat. “I know the f*ckin’ difference between f*ckin’ some bitch and f*ckin’ you! You cryin’ into my mouth, grindin’ your shit on me, beggin’ me for more! You were right there with me, bitch! I did not f*ckin’ imagine that shit!”

Her green almond-shaped eyes narrowed. “You wanna f*ck me some more, Cage?” she said evenly. “Is that why you came here and shot up my apartment? ’Cause if that’s the case, then let’s get to it.”

He watched her shove down her jeans and underwear and then kick them away.

He glared at her, wishing he could just turn around and walk away. Because he sure as f*ck felt like a fool, she always made him feel like a fool. But standing there staring at her slim, sleek body, her high, perky breasts, the nipple rings, the belly button jewelry, the beautiful artwork tattooed over her milky-white freckled skin… He couldn’t. Ah, God, f*cking shit. He was stupid. Stupid for coming here.

“I f*cking hate you,” he hissed as he shoved his gun back in his pants and quickly crossed the room.

“I’ve hated you for years,” she hissed back. “Guess we’re even no—”

He grabbed her ponytail and yanked her head sideways but kept moving, forcing her to stumble backward until her back hit the wall.

“You don’t hate me,” he said, yanking open his leathers with his free hand. Dropping his face into her neck, he took her skin between his teeth and lightly rolled it.

In his grip, she shook her head wildly. “Stop,” she breathed. “Cage…wait.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered, sliding his hand down her slim body. “I know what I saw, I know you still love me, Teacup.”

“Don’t call me Teacup!” she screamed. “I am not your Teacup!”

It was the wrong thing to say, but he’d already known that before he said it, he just didn’t care anymore. He’d spent the last month thinking about little else but her, her absence, and not knowing how she really felt, both driving him crazy. So, no, he no longer gave two f*cks about her violent temper tantrums.

Hooking a hand beneath her knee, he yanked her leg up and situated it over his hip. Grabbing his cock, he pushed up against her already wet * and Tegen’s body trembled in response. Satisfaction roared through him. She wanted him. She still f*cking wanted him. He’d been right.

With her hair wound tightly around his hand, he yanked her head forward, bringing them nose to nose.

“You’ll always be my Teacup,” he growled.

“Shut…up,” she whimpered breathlessly, trying to turn away from him but his grip on her hair allowed her no movement.

“Just say it,” he muttered. “Tell me the f*ckin’ truth for once. Tell me you f*ckin’ love me, babe.”

Her lips parted and knowing her, knowing she was seconds away from telling him to go f*ck himself, he jammed his tongue inside and put an instant stop to her bullshit.

? ? ?

“Oh God,” I murmured, my hands flying to his face, frantically gripping his hair, kissing him harder, trying to crawl up his body to get even closer. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” he whispered. “Me too, babe.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to follow me back to California. He was supposed to be home, in Miles City, doing his thing. Fucking women, engaging in criminal activity, yada, yada, yada.

And I was supposed to be continuing on my path to self-destruction because…

Because f*cking why? I couldn’t remember anymore.

“Say it,” he growled, gripping my head and pushing me off him. “Tell me you love me.”