Unattainable (Undeniable, #3)(94)

“Gimme one good reason why the f*ck not?” he demanded.

I stared up at him, my heart pounding, feeling like at any moment it was going to pound its way straight out of my chest and fall to the floor where it would flop around like a dying fish.

“’Cause the way I’m seein’ it is unless you plan on runnin’ away again or gettin’ with some other *, you’re mine and I’m about ready to let the whole damn world know it.”

My already clammy body broke out in a cold sweat.

“You gonna run again, Tegen?”

I shook my head.

“My dick enough for you?”

I nodded.

He glared at me. “Then what’s the f*ckin’ problem?”

What was the problem? What was the f*cking problem, exactly? I wracked my brain searching for the problem and came up empty.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

His lips split into a smile and dimples popped out everywhere. I lost what little breath I had left inside my lungs. “Teacup,” he whispered. “If you ain’t got a problem, then f*ckin’ marry me.”

That’s when I realized what my problem was.

I didn’t have a problem. Not a single one.

Standing here in front of me was the one and only man I’d ever loved, loving me back, asking me to marry him. To spend the rest of my life with him and only him, because he loved me just that f*cking much, so f*cking much he wanted me to be his wife.

My eyes filled. That was my problem. I didn’t have one. I’d spent my entire life surrounded by problems, wishing and aching for things I knew would never happen.

But they had. And now my poor mind didn’t know what to do with itself.

Blinking caused tears to spill over and run down my cheeks and then Cage was there kissing them away almost as fast as I was producing them.

“Marry me,” he said, pressing his lips, wet with my tears, against my mouth.

My mouth opened and Cage’s tongue took advantage and shot inside.

“Marry me,” he mumbled as he kissed me, refusing to let me answer, kissing me harder each time I tried to pull away from him. “Marry me, Teacup.”

“Okay,” I said breathlessly, threading my fingers through his hair as I kissed him back with equal ferociousness.

Cage went still and with my head in his hands, pushed me away from him.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Okay,” I said, pulling him back to me. “But I don’t want a big stupid ring like Danny’s.”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“No, I’m serious, Cage. I don’t—”

Cage’s mouth crashed down again on mine and I didn’t have much of a choice.

I shut right the f*ck up.

EPILOGUE


“Family dinners give me a headache,” I complained.

Ignoring me, Cage held his hand out. With an exasperated sigh, I handed him my helmet and he placed it on the seat of his bike.

“Don’t ignore me,” I warned. “I hate it and I’ll punch you in the balls if you keep it up, you know I will.”

Grinning, Cage grabbed my hand and threaded his fingers through mine. “I’m not ignorin’ you, Teacup,” he said as he pulled me up the driveway. “I’m just choosin’ not to fight today.”

The front door swung open just as Cage reached for it and Cox stood in the entranceway grinning at us.

“What are you so f*ckin’ happy about?” Cage asked, shoving him out of our way and yanking me inside.

“Fuckin’ blow jobs, brother,” Cox said, still grinning like a jackass. “Kami just blew my damn brains out in the hall closet.”

I rolled my eyes even as Cage burst out laughing. “Explains why you’re so f*ckin’ stupid,” Cage said. “Don’t got much brains to begin with.”

“No f*ckin’ way,” Cox called out from behind us. “You ain’t gonna ruin my good mood.”

“Coming through!”

Cage and I quickly stepped out of Ivy’s way as she came barreling through the foyer, pushing her little brother on his toddler riding toy. Damon, with his chubby arms in the air and a dimpled smile on his face, squealed as they blasted past us.

“Ivy Olivia!” Eva yelled, storming after them. “Are you trying to kill your brother?”

“Yes!” Ivy yelled back.

Inside the kitchen, Cage let go of me and gave me a gentle shove toward the refrigerator. “Beer, babe,” he said, slapping my ass before he headed in Ripper and Deuce’s direction.

Scowling, I stomped off across the linoleum. If I didn’t love him so much, I might actually kill him one of these days. Ours wasn’t a sugar-coated relationship. We fought more than we didn’t, the majority of our sex life consisted of half-out-of-our-mind, angry make-up sex, and we still could never agree on anything. Nothing. Zilch.

Except for one thing.

That we drove each other crazy. Yeah, and that we loved each other. There was that.

He was overbearing, bossy, and demonstrative. He liked to order me around, literally push me around all the while acting like he didn’t see why I got so upset about it.

But at the same time, he also had to put up with my vicious temper, my manic mood swings, and my tendency to both speak and act before thinking.