Takedown Teague (Caged 1)

“Are you just saying that?” she asked. She stared at me through narrowed eyes.

“Mebbe,” I responded. I grinned and glanced away. “Really, I have nothing to do tomorrow evening.”

“No hot date?”

When I glanced at her face, she was already looking away, her cheeks red. She took a slow breath and blew it out through her nose.

“Sorry, I’m being nosy.” She reached up and gathered her hair together in the back as if she was going to put it back into a ponytail again. Then she released her hair, and it collapsed in waves around her shoulders as she shook it out vigorously.

“No worries,” I said, swallowing. “No, no hot date.”

“Well, all right then,” she said quietly. “If you don’t come up with anything better to do, I’ll probably leave around five thirty or so.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“Okay.” She turned and went through the doorway, her hands gripping the frame a little too tightly. “Good night.”

“Night.”

With long strides, I took the stairs two at a time until I hit the landing for my floor. I knew I wasn’t about to go to sleep, so I didn’t even bother changing. I hauled my ass out onto the fire escape and tossed my legs over the side. I set a half-full pack down beside me and lit the first one.

“What’s up, crazy bitch?” I asked.

Krazy Katie didn’t respond. She didn’t even acknowledge me at all. She was leaning forward with her head against the grate, making little waffle marks all over her forehead. Her stare was intense, but I had no idea what she was looking at. I leaned back on one hand and smoked with the other one, enjoying the slightly warmer air and wondering how much longer I was going to be able to get away with no heat in the apartment.

“Things are warming up,” I heard myself say.

“Needs more,” Krazy Katie said.

“I’d be happy to turn the clock forward to spring,” I told her.

Krazy Katie’s head snapped in my direction, and she glared at me for a second. Her eyes were dark, wild, and totally unnerving, even to a guy who had about a hundred pounds on her.

“What?” I asked, my voice a little quieter. “You want me to turn time backwards instead?”

“All men are idiots,” Krazy Katie proclaimed. “She’s gotta find the one with the level of idiocy she can put up with.”

“Who?”

Krazy Katie shoved her hand inside the front of her shirt and began to rummage around inside her bra. She pulled out her lighter and quickly lit another cigarette but didn’t answer me.

“Who?” I said again, but I got nothing in return. I shook my head and decided maybe I was a bit tired after all. I tossed the butt over the edge and crawled back in my window, nearly killing myself on the overgrown pile of laundry just inside.

I should’ve cleaned up the apartment a bit, but I didn’t. I found myself looking at the dresser in my bedroom. More specifically, I stared at the bottom drawer. I knew what was in there though I never opened it. I wasn’t even sure why I kept that shit. I should have thrown it out long ago.

I had to pry my eyes away from the drawer and take a few long breaths. I tightened my hands into fists, which wasn’t very helpful. In my mind, I could imagine myself wrapping a bit of plastic tubing around my bicep and curling my fingers to make a vein show up a little better.

I shook my head sharply to rid myself of that thought.

Forcing myself to move away from the bedroom, I opened a beer, talked at the television for a few minutes, and then headed for the shower. Once I started lathering up, my cock decided he needed some attention. Since I wasn’t actively seeking any of the female kind, he had to settle for my hand. He complained a bit—I have a stubborn, moody cock—but once he figured that was all he was going to get, he sprang to life.

I sighed heavily as I leaned against the cold, broken tiles and slowly stroked myself into a full erection. I skimmed the darkened head with my palm and closed my eyes. For a while, I didn’t have anything in particular in my mind—just the basic, general, physical feeling of skin-on-skin. After a minute or so, dark brown eyes kept entering my head and trying to get my attention. As soon as I allowed myself to focus on them, I knew exactly whose they were.

Tria’s face flowed easily through my mind as my hand gripped my cock and pumped faster. I could see the glistening of her lips after her tongue ran over them and the pale, enticing skin just below her neck. I imagined what she would taste like—her lips, her tits, her cunt…all of her.

I nearly drew blood out of my own lip as I bit down to keep from screaming her name loud enough for her to hear me through the thin floor. A long stream of semen coated the tiles in front of me, was captured by the flow of water from the showerhead, and disappeared down the drain.

“Damn,” I muttered.