by R. C. Martin
Since I was six years old, my world consisted of my mother and me. To this day, she’ll deny it, but the abandonment of my father made her so bitter that it sucked all the life out of her, leaving barely anything left for me. I had to grow up pretty fast under her roof, taking care of myself in ways that she wouldn’t. By the time I was seven, I was consumed by my desire to find some sort of order, to create a system of sorts in order to establish a routine. I was the organized one because I had to be. My mother spent too much time lost in her anger and resentment to do much more than clothe and feed me. I suppose I should be grateful she did that much. Even that was a sacrifice she made on my behalf, a fact that she’s reminded me of constantly over the years.
Needless to say, we didn’t celebrate anything. Not birthdays, not Christmas, not even my high school graduation. By then, I was too old to be disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm for any of my accomplishments. When I ran away from her, settling thousands of miles across the country in a picturesque college town, I did it with no regrets. Yet even now, I bare the scars of my childhood, and I feel it even more during seasons like this. For eight years, I’ve been free from under her thumb, and I still can’t appreciate the beauty of a Christmas tree.
It’s been two months since I’ve spoken to my mother. The dust has long since settled after our last fight, and yet neither of us has broken the silence. I’m not sure what to make of the fact that she kept her word, staying true to her oath that she was done with me. I didn’t think she was capable of letting me go. I’ve always been the reason behind her misery, the reason behind every bad thing that’s happened to her, and she was never shy about reminding me. She had to tell someone, and I was that someone—her social life even more isolated than mine. Now that we’re not speaking, I wonder who she’s latched onto? Who has been given the unfortunate task of listening to her countless woes?
As I pull into a parking space in front of my apartment building, I shake away all thoughts of Natalya Valentine, wishing to think of her no longer. Instead, I gather my things and head inside, allowing my thoughts to drift back to Sage. Knowing that he’s so close, and yet still so far away, makes me anxious. Aware that I have a few hours to kill, I change into a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt—sans any and all underwear. I then pour myself a glass of wine before curling up on the couch with a book: Ken Follett’s Pillars of the Earth, a new Violet approved title.
A few days after we returned from L.A., she came over and noticed I was reading another piece of classic literature. She then proceeded to drag me to the bookstore, demanding I pick out something written in the last ten years. It had taken some convincing, as she was hoping I’d opt for a book that wasn’t so dense, but I argued that the publication date fell within her parameters. I’m now halfway through and pleased to admit that I’m loving it. Even better, it’ll occupy my mind for the next few hours.
Still, every few pages, I stop and cling to the giddy feeling that makes my stomach tingle when I remember—Sage is almost home.
I’M HOME LONG enough to look yearningly at my bed, where I’ve discarded my bags, and then I’ve got my keys in my hand and I’m out the door. I hop in my Audi and let it run for a few minutes. My brother-in-law, Harry, was kind enough to stop by once a week to take it for a spin around the block while I was away. Now, as it growls at me, I know it’s just the cold that makes it angry and not neglect. I can’t say I blame the thing. After having spent the last couple weeks in temperatures far warmer than what December in Colorado has to offer, I can honestly say that I didn’t miss the twenty-degree chill that’s welcomed me home tonight.
By the time I get to Rosy’s apartment building, it’s almost midnight. Even so, I don’t hesitate to pound on her door excitedly, knowing she’s up and waiting for me. I chuckle when I hear her squeal loudly seconds prior to her opening up, her small body crashing into mine before I can even get a look at her.
“You’re home!”
“Feels good, too,” I reply, earnestly returning her embrace.
We separate at the sound of Maestro’s bark. He barks once more as he scurries toward me, pawing at my legs as he wags his whole behind.
“Hey, buddy,” I say in greeting, lifting him up into my arms. He wiggles wildly as he licks at my neck, his tongue reaching for my face, and I pull away from him. “Missed you, too, Maestro—but you still lick your junk with that tongue. Lay off, bud.”
Rosemary giggles and reaches for my elbow, tugging me inside.
“Baby girl, I can’t stay,” I inform her as I follow her pull.
“Hey, Sage. Welcome home,” says Samantha, my sister’s roommate. Her dirty blonde hair is in a messy knot on top of her head, and she’s in a pair of tight, cotton shorts and a hoodie. She looks like she’s ready to hit the sack, but not as if she was woken up by my arrival.
“Thanks, Sami. And thanks again for being cool with keeping Maestro.”
“No trouble at all,” she replies with a grin. “He’s the sweetest.”
I smile down at the little guy and he tries licking my face again. I chuckle before setting him back on the floor. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. I just need to grab his stuff.”
“I’m suddenly second guessing whether or not I like Millie right now,” states Rosy, folding her arms across her chest.
“Don’t lie,” says Sami, playfully nudging Rosy with her elbow. “When she paid you back for that plane ticket, you said she was just right for Sage.”
She rolls her eyes and blows out a sigh. “That’s just because I told her not to worry about it, but she refused to leave until I took the money. Sage needs a woman who can hold her own. Doesn’t mean I’m not totally jealous that he’s about to leave me to go see her—even though they saw each other three weeks ago!”
“Rosy,” I grin, palming the top of her head and twisting it so that she’s got nowhere to look but at me. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she concedes, turning to go gather the bag full of Maestro’s things.
“No pouting,” I insist, taking the small duffel and throwing it over my shoulder. “If you’re good, I’ll treat you to breakfast sometime next week.”
“Just you and me?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow at me.
“Just you and me, little lady.”
“Okay,” she replies with a smile. “Tell Millie I say hi.”
“I’ll try to remember—but I make no promises,” I tell her, picking up Maestro once more. “Haven’t seen my girl in three weeks; my hello might not include any words.”
“Oh-kay. You can go now,” she says, shooing me out the door.
I laugh and then call over my shoulder, “Bye, ladies.”
“Bye,” says Sami.
“Love you,” replies Rosy.
“Love you back.”
As soon as I hear the door latch closed behind me, the deadbolt sliding into place, I hurry down the stairs and back out to my car. I load Maestro into the front seat and waste no time heading to Millie’s place. She doesn’t know I’m coming, or even that I’ve made it back to Fort Collins. The last time I made contact was when the bus brought us over the state line. I wanted to surprise her.
It’s twelve-thirty when I put my car in park and grab Maestro. I wonder if Sarah is home or if Millie will be inside alone. I scan the parking lot for Sarah’s car, but I don’t look too hard, anxious to get inside and out of the cold—impatient to be buried inside of my girl. Thinking about it takes me back to a couple of nights ago, when she came for me over the phone. My dick jerks at the thought as I knock on her door.
I hear her footsteps and set Maestro at my feet. I see it as light suddenly appears beneath the door, and my pulse begins to race. When she opens the door, she takes my breath away. Her hair is pulled back into a low ponytail and her face has been washed clean, allowing her natural beauty to shine through—how I like her best. She’s in a pair of gray sweatpants and a tight, white, thermal shirt. I can see the hardened b
uds of her tits through the fabric, and my dick stirs at the sight. Without a word, I take one, long step toward her, circling my arms around her waist as I pull her against me. I tear my eyes away from her gorgeous green ones just long enough to watch Maestro trot inside, and then she’s got my undivided attention.
She grips the lapels of my coat, pulling me down while pushing herself up on her tiptoes. She brings her lips a hair’s breath away from mine, and I can feel her shallow exhalations against my mouth.
“You came,” she whispers.
A smile pulls at my lips as I murmur, “Not yet—but I think we can do something about that.”
I swallow her laugh when I cover her mouth with my own. Her amusement is soon forgotten as I thrust my tongue between her lips, kissing her hungrily. She sighs dreamily, sliding her arms up and around my neck, and I back her further into her apartment so that I might close the door behind me. Blindly, I fumble for the lock, twisting the deadbolt before I sever our kiss. I flip off the lights and she gasps excitedly as I reach for the back of her thighs, hoisting her up off of her feet. As soon as she locks her ankles behind me, my lips capture hers once more.
“Sarah?” I mumble between kisses.
“In her room. With Brandon. Sleeping,” she mumbles in return.
“Fuck,” I hiss, grabbing a handful of her ass. Her legs squeeze my hips and my cock grows fully erect. “Don’t have it in me to hold back, doll face.”
“Then don’t,” she whispers, her fingers finding their way into my hair. “God, I’ve missed you. Every part of you, Sage.”
A grunt crawls its way up my throat as I plunge my tongue back into her mouth, carrying her down the hallway, Maestro at my heels. When we cross the threshold of her room, I close the door behind us before whirling her around and pressing her up against it. She whimpers, pulling at my hair as she kisses me desperately, like she’s thirsty and she can’t get enough.
I shrug my way out of my coat, letting it drop to the floor. Maestro growls, probably having been in the drop zone, but I don’t pay him any mind as I slide a hand underneath Millie’s shirt to palm her breast. Another soft sound spills from her mouth into mine at my touch, and her kisses turn more frenzied. When I slide my other hand up her stomach and around her other tit, she pulls her mouth from mine and reaches for the bottom of her shirt, yanking it off without delay.
I press my lips against the hollow of her throat, sucking and licking my way to the soft spot behind her ear as she claws at the shirt on my back, working the fabric off of me. I move my hands off of her, reaching behind my head to grab at the shirt before pulling it over my head. As soon as I’m free of it, I latch on to one of her nipples, sucking her into my mouth without restraint.
“Baby,” she sighs, her back bowing away from the door as she pushes her chest out.
I swirl my tongue around the hardened bud and she rocks her hips, seeking friction against her core. I let her go with a pop before grinning up at her, the lamp beside her bed illuminating the room just enough to clearly make out the unmasked lust on her face.
“Who owns your orgasm, Millie?”
“Hurry,” she begs. “I want to feel you.”
I lick my lips, wondering how long I can resist her. I decide to tease her a little bit more. I want her so worked up, she’s dripping wet for me. I ignore her plea and dip my head down to take her other boob into my mouth.
“Sage,” she moans, rocking her hips again.
I grab hold of her thighs, keeping her still, and she grunts in frustration. Chuckling, I free her nipple and then carry her to the bed, tossing her onto the mattress. She shrieks in surprise and then giggles as I hook my fingers into the cuffs of her pants and rip them down her legs, leaving her naked.
“Let your hair down,” I instruct, toeing my way out of my shoes before I drop my boxers and my jeans in one fell swoop. I turn my back to her only long enough to set my glasses on top of her dresser, and then I’m at the foot of the bed. I kneel down, spreading her legs and pulling her closer. She sucks in a breath just before I flatten my tongue over her slick entrance, licking all the way up to her clit.
“Fuuuuuck,” she cries.
I repeat the act, humming between her pussy lips, loving the way she tastes. There’s a sweetness to her natural flavor, making her both savory and delicious. When I slip my tongue inside of her, lapping up all she has to give, she whimpers, her hands finding their way into my hair. I insert my tongue as far as I can reach, my dick growing painfully hard with every sharp breath she takes.
“Shit, baby, don’t stop—just like—” She bucks her hips, her grip in my hair tightening to ensure that our connection is not lost.
As if I would ever let that happen. Fuck—she tastes like a dream.
“Sage!”
I reach down and give my dick a few rough strokes as her cunt flutters around my tongue. I’ve never made her come orally like that, usually paying more attention to her clit, and it’s so fucking sexy. It’s also proof that my girl really did miss me—her pussy desperate and waiting for my return.
Now she’s in luck, ‘cause I’m not done with her yet.
BEFORE I CAN CATCH my breath, Sage is on his feet, his hands wrapped around my hips before he flips me over and tugs me up to my knees. I prop myself up on my forearms and look back at him from over my shoulder, just in time to see his hand descend and smack against my ass.
My pussy pulses greedily, my mouth falling open in a silent O as I arch my back, lifting my ass higher. He smacks my opposite cheek, and my fingers curl around the covers beneath me.
“Fucking hell, I love this ass,” he growls, grabbing onto me with both hands.
He smacks my right side again, then my left, rubbing the sting away affectionately, and I can no longer look at him. I want him too much—I want him so much I can hardly breathe. If he doesn’t fuck me soon, I swear, I might die. I rest my forehead against the bed between my arms, whimpering in desperation before he slams his cock inside of me.
I gasp loudly, my head shooting up as I moan, “Sage, baby!”
“Shit,” he hisses, pounding into me with abandon. “Jesus—you feel so good, baby doll. So goddamn sexy.”
The sound of his voice spurs me on and all I want is more. Now that he’s here, now that he’s inside of me—stretching me open and filling me up—I realize just how much I missed him. It was more than I thought. This—our connection, our passion—it’s undeniable. It always has been, and I hope with everything I have in me that it always will be. I hope that I always want him; always want this; always want more.
“Harder,” I groan.
He frees another grunt and I feel it as the bed dips a little. I look back and see that he’s planted one foot on the mattress as he rams back inside of me.
“Oh, fuck,” I cry out—his dick plunging deeper, hitting me at a new angle that sends a rush of tingles throughout my entire core.
“You like that, baby?”
“Yes—yes,” I pant as he continues to fuck me like only he can—his cock the most magnificent I’ve ever had.
“Need you to come, doll face. You close?”
“Almost,” I answer, my orgasm brewing just below the surface, heating up my entire body.
“Get there, Millie,” he demands, reaching around me to rub circles against my clit.
A deep groan spills from my lips, and I bury my face in the covers, attempting to muffle the sound as I get closer and closer to my release. He rubs faster, thrusting harder, and when I feel him start to expand inside of me, my pussy responds immediately. We come together, the sensation so warm, wet, and perfect.
He exhales, his foot slipping from the bed as he plants a fist on either side of me, lowering his lips to kiss my bare shoulder. He rocks his hips lazily as he starts to go soft inside of me, and I free a sated sigh.
“Fuck, it’s good to be home,” he mumbles against my skin.
I smile dreamily, my heart swelling at his words. I know what he means. I’m sure he does
n’t think of it the same way I do, but home to me is this very moment—Sage and I connected as one body. This is home, and I’m so glad to have him back.
He kisses my shoulder again before he slips out of me, breaking our connection.
“Don’t move, doll face. I’ll be right back.”
I flop onto my side and watch as he steps into his boxers before heading to my dresser to don his glasses. He sneaks out of my room only to return a moment later, a wet washcloth in his hand.
“Let me clean you up, baby.”
I roll onto my back without protest, opening my legs for him. Gently, he rubs the warm cloth over my center and the inside of my thighs, wiping away his release and mine. When he’s finished, he crumples up the cloth and tosses it into my hamper before removing his boxers and returning to bed. He kisses my lips, then starts to turn down the sheets, and I move to slip between them as he crawls in beside me. He discards his glasses on my nightstand, turning off the light before he reaches for me. He pulls me close, and I let him, curling myself up against him tightly. When his lips touch mine again, I open up for him immediately. He kisses me slowly, deeply, lovingly, and I get lost in him completely.
We don’t stay lip-locked for too long, his exhaustion catching up to him quickly. As soon as he pulls away, he silently encourages me to roll away from him, so I do, allowing him to spoon me. He slides a hand up and grabs hold of one of my breasts, tucking his nose in my neck as he begins to grow heavy with sleep.
“I love you,” I whisper, my eyes drifting closed.
“Love you, too, gorgeous.”
I WAKE TO THE feel of Sage’s lips as they kiss along my shoulder and then down my arm, all the way to my elbow.
I missed that, too.
Sage’s sweet morning kisses are the best. It’s my favorite way to wake up. I breathe deeply, curling myself back against him as I slowly start to let sleep fall away from me. He leans into me, slipping a hand beneath my cheek before turning my head so that I’m looking up at him. His icy blue eyes dance around my face, and an amused smirk curls his lips before he presses them against mine.
