Unattainable

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Get the fuck off me,” I whispered, shoving at Cage’s wandering hands. “Everybody is staring at us.”

Actually, staring probably wasn’t the right word. Everyone who was currently in the main room was gaping at us. Or snickering. Bikers, their old ladies, and kids had all piled in for lockdown and the ones who hadn’t been here when Deuce and I had gotten into it, had quickly been informed. To make matters worse, Cage was groping me 24/7.

It was everything I’d always wanted growing up.

But now, it was embarrassing as all hell. The only people who didn’t seem to think our sudden coupling was the best comedy show of the season were Deuce and Eva. Deuce was ignoring us entirely and Eva was sending warm smiles in our direction. Smiles that were nearly as embarrassing as all the laughter.

And then there was Danny. She hadn’t said one word to me, hadn’t even so much as looked my way.

ZZ.

She’d heard everything and probably then some.

Strangely enough, I actually felt guilty. As much as I couldn’t stand Little Miss Perfect, I’d grown up with her and the thought of her hating me, really hating me instead of just being irritated with my usual shitty attitude, wasn’t sitting well with me.

Although Dirty’s initial appearance at the club, looking eerily like a Calvin Klein underwear model, and Ellie—of all people—staying with him, had taken the attention off Cage and me, Dirty was only making brief visits out of his room, mostly to the kitchen, so all attention was back on us again.

Stupid fucking lockdown. Stupid motherfucking lockdown. Not only was I trapped here but I was trapped here without my own clothing, forced to wear Kami’s, the only other woman here who was as thin as I was. The skinny jeans weren’t so bad, despite them being tighter than I liked, but the nearly sheer camisole, a silly and shimmering purple, was repulsive. I was literally counting down the minutes until the washing machine was freed up and I could put my own clothing back on.

And it was only Monday. I had two more days to endure. Maybe longer if whatever Deuce had going down on Wednesday didn’t go according to plan.

To make matters worse, my mother refused to leave Deuce and Eva’s room and Jase was practically camped out in the hall, hoping that she’d eventually come out. Hawk, thankfully, was keeping his distance, staying quiet and keeping Christopher busy. I had to give him credit for that; my poor mother wouldn’t stand an emotional chance if both of them came at her at once.

Speaking of emotional chances, I was still trying to figure out how to bring up the matter of her memory without upsetting her further.

As usual, the Hell’s Horsemen Montana Chapter was one big fat hot mess.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Cage growled, slapping my hands down as he used his body to push me backward. My back hit the bar counter and Cage’s arms came down around me, locking me in place.

“I’m hungry,” he said, his voice low as his face dipped into the crook of my neck.

“I’m not a kitchen,” I hissed, even as my eyelids fluttered from whatever his tongue was doing behind my ear.

“No?” he asked, laughing softly as his teeth grazed my neck. “So, all that pussy I been eatin’? That wasn’t you grindin’ my face like you were diggin’ for gold?”

Loud laughter erupted to my left and my cheeks heated with mortification. Cage, however, was completely oblivious or just didn’t care one way or the other.

“Please, Cage,” I begged, shoving at him again. “Please, not in front of everyone.”

Cage lifted his head and pulled himself to his full height, towering over me. “I want ’em all to know,” he whispered. “That you ain’t with Z. That you’re fuckin’ mine.”

Mine. His.

God, he was killing me. Slowly. I was a mere bystander to my own death, unable to move, only able to watch all the time knowing exactly what was coming.

“Gimme those lips, Teacup,” he whispered, bowing his head, pressing his mouth to mine. His tongue slid past my lips, his hand came up, and his fingers slid through my hair. Before I knew what I was doing, I was up on my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck, kissing him back with equal eagerness, forgetting where we were, forgetting that we were far from alone.

Out of all the men I’d been with, not one of my sexual experiences had been quite like this. Where I just couldn’t seem to stop myself, to say no—no matter what Cage was demanding of me, I still wanted more and more and more.

It was so good. So sexually satisfying and yet I still couldn’t keep my shit together around him. I had to have more.

His right hand slid up my back, under my borrowed shirt, and up my side, landing on my breast. My eyes went wide. Enough was enough.

“Stop it!” I yelled, shoving at him with all my strength, managing to at least dislodge his grip on my breast.

Shaking with laughter, Cage raised both his hands in the air, palms forward. “Calm down,” he said.

“Yeah, Tegen, calm the fuck down. It ain’t like we all ain’t seen Cage with his pants around his ankles a million fuckin’ times before.”

I turned to Anger, whose evil smirk only worsened as I glared at him.

“What?” he asked, shrugging. “You ain’t the first bitch he’d be havin’ on top of that bar. Ain’t the second, third, tenth, or forty-fifth either.”

My glare swung toward Cage.

No longer laughing, Cage let out an irritated growl. “Thanks a lot, fucker,” he shot in Anger’s direction. “It’s gonna take a fuckin’ crowbar to pry those legs back open now.”

My jaw dropped.

“What the fuck!” I shrieked. “What is wrong with you?”

Shoving past him, I ran from the room, hurt and humiliated. Again. God, he just kept doing it. And I kept letting him. Pissing me off, soothing the hurt with a few words, pissing me off again, embarrassing me, and then kissing away the sting.

Why was I such a dumbass when it came to him?

When I’d finally been able to sit down and think about everything that had happened, all in such a short period of time, all of it felt so off. Like this wasn’t my reality but instead a fling during a summer vacation, something I couldn’t take home with me, something that would leave me with only memories.

What was going to happen come Wednesday? Would Cage come to see me in San Francisco? Would I start making regular visits home again? A weekend here and there? Holidays? Would I stay with Cage instead of my mother from now on?

And what were we exactly? He’d said he wanted me on the back of his bike, that I was “his,” but had never elaborated.

As it was, any time I tried to bring this up with Cage, he wasn’t even trying to listen to me, just groping, kissing, and fucking me incessantly.

“Tegen!”

I stopped midrun and took a deep breath, not really sure what to expect, before turning around to face Danny.

Standing about ten feet away from me, Danny gave me a small smile. “I thought maybe you’d want some clothing,” she said and pointed to her room. “That wasn’t imported from a high-end designer in France.”

I blew out a breath of relief. No confrontation. I couldn’t handle any more confrontations. I was an emotional train wreck every time I came home and this time, oh God, this time was so much worse. Both good and bad. A confusing mess, both ugly and beautiful, and one I could no longer deny.

“But first,” she said as I began heading toward her. I stopped walking. Here it comes.

“What?”

“Is he okay?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. “Is he happy?”

I stared at her, watched her shift uncomfortably, unable to meet my eyes. She did care about ZZ, that much was obvious.

“He’s okay,” I said. “But happy? No, he’s far from happy.”

She nodded listlessly as if I’d given her the answer she’d expected. Taking a deep breath, she again gestured toward her room. “Clothes?”

“Hell yes,” I muttered. “Hell fucking yes.”

• • •

Shaking out his fist, Cage glared down to where Anger lay sprawled out on the floor with a bloody nose and a split lip. “Don’t fuck with me,” he growled. “Don’t you ever fuck with my shit again.”

Anger turned his head to one side and spit out a tooth along with a mouthful of blood. “Fuck you,” he said, coughing. “Since when is Tegen your shit? Been soundin’ to me like the bitch jumped beds, which makes her nothin’ but club ass.”

Cage could feel the black veil of rage begin to take hold. It always started out with a slight tremble, growing and growing, until it was a full-body rumble from deep within, one he couldn’t contain, one that left him waking up in the midst of a full-on brawl and not quite sure how he’d gotten there.

“Not seein’ why you’re givin’ a shit, brother,” Anger continued as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. “The bitch ain’t even all that hot.”

The next thing Cage remembered was yelling. Yelling and screaming and his arms being wrenched behind his back, his feet flying out from under him as he was dragged backward across the room.

Eva appeared in his line of sight, peering worriedly at him. “Cage!” she yelled, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Cage!”

Confused, he blinked up at his stepmother.

“Calm the fuck down!” she demanded.

He calmed right the fuck down. Eva was damned pissed. And pregnant. The last time Eva was pissed and pregnant she’d nearly lost Ivy and almost died in the process. Glancing over toward the bar, he found Anger slumped against it, holding a beer to the side of his face, giving him the stink eye.

What the fuck ever.

Whoever was holding him suddenly yanked him upward and onto his feet, then shoved him not so lightly off to the side. Cage turned to glare and found Hawk glaring back at him.

“I’ll knock you out, brother,” Hawk boomed. “This club is packed solid with women and children and if you’re gonna be actin’ straight-up crazy, I will knock you the fuck out.”

Yeah. Hawk would knock him the fuck out, if he didn’t knock Hawk the fuck out first. But after one more glance at Eva, who knew exactly what he was thinking and didn’t appear to be very happy about it, he shoved his thoughts aside and gave them both a brisk nod.

“You’re lucky your dad’s in the back,” Eva hissed. “Not sure I could have saved you from his fists this time.”

Cage’s jaw locked up tight. Save him? The old bastard had taught him how to fight. They were the same fucking size, had the same hot angry blood flowing through their veins. Forget that his old man was closing in on sixty too.

Fuck. Who was he kidding? That tank of a man could still take out six men if he had to. He’d always looked up to his father for that shit. Wanted to be just like him when he was older.

Now he’d just settle for a thank-you or a “job well done” tossed his way. At least once before one of them kicked it.

“Cage,” Eva warned. “Do I need to make you listen to some Billie Holiday? Because I will, you know I will.”

His lips twitched. Seeing this, Eva outright grinned. “Go fix what you just did,” she whispered, leaning in close to him and shoving him in the direction Tegen had run off in. “And by fix it, I don’t mean try and get her naked. I mean actually fix it.”

“She’s gonna kick me in the junk,” he muttered, wincing just thinking about it.

Hawk’s hand came down on his shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t be a fuckin’ jackass,” the man said. “You sittin’ pretty ain’t gonna win you any favors. You’re just gonna end up sittin’ alone in the end. And, brother, the way you been actin’ with the hippie, you and me both know you ain’t wanna be sittin’ alone no more.”

Both Cage and Eva watched as Hawk turned on his boot heel and stalked silently through the club. The brother was hurting bad, it was in his expression, in his voice, in the way he walked. His shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world rested upon them.

Cage turned back to Eva. “For real,” he said. “She’s gonna kick me.”

Eva shrugged. “Take a look around you, Cage. From chaos, the strongest sort of love is usually born.”

Chaos. Well, he and Tegen definitely had that shit down.

But real love, mutual love, the sort of love Eva was talking about? How did you know if you had something like that?

Time, he figured. Over time, you would know. And then it dawned on him…

Wednesday! I have to be back at work on Tuesday!

Tegen didn’t live in Miles City anymore. Tegen lived in motherfucking California. She had an apartment, a job, and probably friends. She’d spent years building a life there.

Fuck, he’d been so caught up in her, inside of her actually, he hadn’t given much thought to what was going to happen when lockdown ended.

He didn’t have time.

Cage stormed off in search of Tegen. Several short breaths later, he found her closing Danny and Ripper’s bedroom door with a bundle of clothing in her arms.

“Was that fuckin’ necessary?” he demanded, marching up to her. “Actin’ like a goddamn lunatic?”

“You have got to be kidding me,” she said. “You’re mad at me for reacting to what you did? Groping me like club ass in front of everyone! Then saying you’d need a crowbar to pry my legs back open? You’re a sick, sexist motherfucker and, what? Did you expect me to do a fuckin’ jig? Or giggle and swoon and bend over the bar so you could fuck me in front of everyone?”

Cage opened his mouth, then promptly closed it. What the fuck did he say to that? She was right. He had been doing exactly what she was accusing him of.

He just hadn’t thought…

Fuck. He hadn’t thought. Period.

Snorting, Tegen pushed past him. “You think I don’t hear half the boys talking about how I jumped beds? I know they think I’m a slut, but you know better, don’t you?”

Pausing in front of his door, she glanced over his shoulder. “You do know better, right?”

Jesus, he was not going to get into another argument about whether or not Tegen was a club whore.

“Get inside the fuckin’ room,” he demanded, stalking toward her. Grabbing her arm, he pushed open his door and shoved her inside.

“Goddammit, Cage!” she screamed as she threw her armful of clothing at him. “Stop treating me like that! Stop shoving me into rooms, stop talking about me as if I’m not right there and, seriously, stop acting like your Neanderthal father!”

“What are you going to do about Z?” he demanded, ignoring her. “You need me to make that call, or you got that shit covered?”

Tegen went still. “What?” she asked.

“You dumb?” he shot back, feeling his patience quickly waning. “You need to tell him the two of you, whatever shit you had worked out, is done with. Give him the apartment, whatever, just get it done. We can worry about gettin’ your shit outta there later.”

Tegen’s eyes flared wide and Cage got the answer he’d been seeking. She’d planned on returning home.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tegen asked. “Why would I give ZZ my apartment?”

And stupidly, he took it one step further. “I told you I wanted you to be my fuckin’ girl. You agreed.”

“I know that!” she snapped back. “I still don’t see what any of that has to do with my apartment?”

Cage lost it. For such a smart kid, she sure as fuck turned out to be a dumbass adult.

“Because ain’t no girl of mine is gonna be livin’ three states over! Especially with another dude! What the fuck kinda shit you thinkin’, Tegen?”

“Oh, really?” Tegen sneered. “Can you tell me what else I should or shouldn’t be doing? Is there a back-of-the-bike handbook around this fucking dump that I should be reading?

“Oh, no, wait,” she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I forgot. None of you fuckers even know how to read. Except ZZ.”

“If you think,” he bit out, “that you’re gonna be jumpin’ beds again after this shit with us, you are fuckin’ wrong.”

“Jumping beds?” she shrieked. “Before this weekend, we were together once, Cage! Once, for a whole two minutes after which you basically told me you wanted nothing more to do with me! I did not jump beds! I was kicked out of yours and went happily to someone else’s!”

God, fucking, shit! Why was she so damn crazy all the time? Why couldn’t she manage to scrape together more than five seconds of normalcy for him?

“Are you hell-fuckin’-bent on drivin’ me to blow your fuckin’ skull wide open?” he shouted. “What the fuck do you want from me, bitch? Fuckin’ tell me so I can give it to you and you can SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

He was hardly surprised when, out of clothing to throw, she launched herself at him. He waited a beat before quickly sidestepping her, then hooked an arm around her stomach as she blasted by him. He lifted her right off her feet and heaved her across the ten feet between him and his bed.

“Cage!” she screamed as she jackknifed into a sitting position. “Stop manhandling me!”

Cage suddenly felt drained. She was exhausting. The constant back-and-forth, he hated it. It reminded him of his father, of their fucked-up relationship, and that was the last thing he wanted this shit with Tegen to become.

“Jesus,” he said, running his hands through his hair as he turned away from her. “This is not how I want this shit to be.”

Why the fuck were women so motherfucking fucked-up?

He knew this shit wasn’t just a weekend fuck fest. He could feel that truth, knew it in his gut every time he’d been inside her, working her over, watching, feeling her body tighten and release, feeling his reaction to her, and what a motherfucking awesome reaction it was.

He was so into her; she was so fucking into him. You couldn’t fake that kind of shit. He’d been with far too many women, he knew what was what.

And yet she was still acting like a nut job.

Jesus, this bitch was fucking him up. Had him thinking one thing and then another and then another and then he was back at the beginning again feeling all sorts of confused. His brain felt like it had been tied to a whipping post.

From chaos, the strongest sort of love is usually born.

When did Eva become motherfucking Buddha? But…coming from the woman who’d reined in his old man, he figured there just might be some truth in that statement.

When Tegen had yet to respond with another smartass comment, Cage turned around and found her standing only inches away from him. She went instantly up on her tiptoes and slung her arms around his neck, bringing his face down to hers.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, kissing him softly. Her tongue slid inside his mouth and tangled with his own as her hands dropped from his neck to his shoulders and then traveled lower, over his chest and stomach and then…

“Wait,” he said, grabbing her wrists and holding her hands still. Startled, she glanced up at him.

“Did you just say…you’re sorry?”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Yeah.”

He gaped at her. “You, Tegen Louise Matthews, just said…you were sorry?”

Her upper lip curled. “Yes,” she bit out. “I figured if the world’s most renowned man whore can apologize, so can I.”

It was his turn to grimace. He was really sick of all her digs in reference to his sexual history but he didn’t want to fight anymore, so he kept his mouth shut and let it slide.

“Can I resume taking your pants off now?” she asked.

“If I let you, will you wipe that dirty fuckin’ look off your face?”

“Maybe.”

“Babe, I’m gonna need a guarantee or it’s a no-go. I can’t be fuckin’ some bitch who’s lookin’ like she’d rather be doin’ laundry. Not sure my man-whorin’ ego could take a blow like that.”

It started out with just a mere twitch of her lips but quickly escalated, and Cage found himself staring dumbfounded at the woman in front of him. She was giggling.

Tegen.

Giggling.

He went insta-hard.

“Keep laughin’,” he growled, walking her backward. “That shit looks good on you.”

“Shut up,” she said, grinning. “And fuck me.”

He shoved her back on the bed and jumped on over her.

“Way ahead of you, Teacup,” he said, fumbling with his zipper. “While you been bein’ crazy, I’ve been fuckin’ you for the past twenty minutes at least, might even finish before I get up inside that hungry pussy of yours. And I ain’t the little engine that could; when my shit is outta fuel, that bastard is in for the night. So, fuckin’ sucks to be you.”

Giggles turned into full-on hysterics and Cage stopped what he was doing and just watched her laugh. Hell, she looked young. Her nose scrunched up, pink-faced, and trying to breathe in between bouts of full-bellied laughter.

No scowl. No angry lines. No narrowed eyes or flat lips. She looked young, fresh, and fucking beautiful.

Cage propelled himself into action. Not knowing when he was going to get a chance like this again, he wasn’t going to miss it. After undressing her as fast as he could, he reached over, grabbed a condom off the nightstand and—

Tegen gasped at his harsh entry. Then her surprise bled quickly into a smile.

“Better, babe?” he asked, grinning down at her.

“Your dick should become a United Nations dignitary,” she said. “That fucker could put the smackdown on the world peace holdup.”

Cage’s body shook with laughter.

“I love you, Teacup,” he said, smiling. “Always have,” he said. “Just didn’t realize it until now.”

Her surprised whimper made him grin.

“Now, about that fuckin’ apartment in Cali?”

Beneath him, Tegen’s body trembled violently. When her chin began to shake, he cupped the side of her face and held her still.

“Babe?” he asked gently.

“What am I going to do here?” she whispered.

“You know exactly what you’re gonna fuckin’ do here,” he whispered back, pulling out of her slowly and then sliding just as slowly back inside.

“You’re gonna put your skinny ass on the back of my bike, you’re gonna move into my fuckin’ house, you’re gonna cook and you’re gonna clean and you’re gonna fuck me whenever the fuck I want it.”

When her eyes flared with anger, he growled, “Shut up.” After a pause, during which he managed to glare tenderly at her, he continued. “Other than that, you can do whatever the fuck you want. Get a fuckin’ job, or fuckin’ don’t, or start writin’ those books you were always talkin’ about.”

For a moment neither of them moved, then Tegen’s mouth opened and Cage internally winced, waiting for her to lay into him. But instead of speaking, her breath shuddered heavily from her chest and her mouth closed. Opened again. Closed.

“Okay,” she whispered and he could see the fear in her green eyes. It matched the fear inside of him, the fear that he was making the wrong decision, that they didn’t work together, that this would end up in a catastrophe of fucking and fighting.

Only thing was…the happiness he felt far outweighed his fears.