by R. C. Martin
The last thing I want to do, just hours before Sage gets here, is listen to my mother bitch and moan like she always does. I don’t need to hear how miserable she is and how much of that is my fault. Not that she would ever say so explicitly, but I’m not an idiot and both of us know it. While she might choose not to care, I care.
Tonight, I care.
The third time she calls, I pour myself a glass of wine before I swipe my screen to answer, ever so begrudgingly. “Hello?” I answer.
“Where were you? I’ve called three times? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
I take a deep breath and then a sip of wine before I reply. “I just answered, mother.”
“Tati, don’t get smart with me,” she demands, referring to me by the nickname only she ever uses. Millicent was apparently my father’s idea. Tatiana was hers—she’s called me Tati for twenty years, now.
“I have plans tonight. Can we do this another time?”
“Plans? Tatiana, I don’t ask you for much. One phone call every two weeks. You should know better than to make plans.”
I roll my eyes and then guzzle down the rest of my drink. “God, mother—heaven forbid I make plans on a Saturday night.” I regret the words as soon as they pass through my lips. Not because I don’t mean them, but because it sets the woman off. I’m only half listening to her rant when a knock sounds at the door.
Happy for any excuse to end this call, I hurry to see who is in the hallway. I barely get the door open before he’s coming toward me, grabbing the back of my thighs to hoist me up around his waist. I squeak out my surprise, my reflexes beckoning me to lock my ankles behind his back, my free hand gripping his shoulder. He grins at me before kissing the side of my jaw.
“Hey, doll face.”
“Um—mother, I have to go. Something just came up. I’ll talk to you in a couple weeks, okay?” I end the call before she has a chance to respond and let the device slip from my fingers onto the floor. “What are you doing here?” I ask Sage, ignoring my phone when it starts ringing. “It’s only seven thirty.”
“Wanted to see you,” he says, reaching up to grip the back of my neck. He draws me down for a kiss and I don’t fight him. “Wanted to taste you,” he mutters before slipping his tongue into my mouth. He reaches up to squeeze my ass, a habit of his that I find myself growing fond of, and I can’t help but curl my lips into a smile against his.
“Your timing is perfect.”
When my phone starts to ring again, he looks down at the floor and then back at me. “Are you sure about that?”
“Shut the door and kiss me, Sage.”
“How about I shut the door and you take off all your clothes?”
For a moment, I wonder if he’s joking. Then I get a good look at his face and it hits me as if it’s an absolute truth—Sage never jokes about sex.
I unhook my legs from around him and slide my way down his chest until my feet are on the floor. I take one step back, and then another, my eyes locked with his as I reach for the hem of my tank top and begin pulling it over my head. He closes the door just as my bra is revealed, and my neck warms when I see the lust in his eyes.
He watches me without moving a muscle as I push my cotton shorts down my legs. My bra goes next. Then my panties. I’m hardly surprised with how much he can turn me on just by watching me. Knowing that his gaze holds the unspoken promise of a level of pleasure only he can provide, I revel in his slow perusal of my nakedness.
“Do you know how fucking beautiful you are? Every inch of you, baby.” He takes his time closing the distance between us and then slowly slides his hands up my sides, his thumbs tracing the underside of my breasts. “I don’t want to share you, Millicent. Not even a little. Let’s do this. Just you and me. No one else. You in?”
My mouth falls open of its own accord. I certainly was not expecting him to say what I think he just said. “You want—you want to be exclusive?” I ask.
“Call it what you will, doll face. I don’t want anyone else’s lips on yours,” he says, brushing a soft kiss against my mouth. “I don’t want anyone else’s hands on your tits,” he continues, his fingers pinching one of my nipples. “And I sure as fuck don’t want anyone else’s dick near this pussy.” I suck in a sharp breath when he cups his free hand between my legs.
“Sage—we haven’t even been on a date yet.”
“Is that an excuse? Or do you really think one night, or even a dozen nights out will change either of our minds?” As he speaks, he dips one finger into my core. I pull my lip between my teeth when he adds another. “Are you really going to make me ask again later? We both know how this will play out. We’ve done this before. You want me, Millicent.”
I stifle a whimper as his fingers continue to slide in and out of me. When I unfasten the top of his jeans and slide my hand down his boxers and around his hard cock, he licks his lips.
“You’re such an arrogant little shit.”
He lifts an accusing eyebrow at me. “That feel little to you, baby?”
I press my lips together, suppressing a grin. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he rests his forehead against mine. “There’s a fine line between arrogance and confidence. I toe the line, baby doll, but I never cross it. If there’s one thing I’m confident about right here, right now, it’s that your pussy is wet for me and my dick is hard for you, and when you say yes, I’m going to make you come against the wall—so cut the shit and tell me you won’t fuck anyone else. You and me, doll face. Just you and me.”
I think about it for another second, knowing that he’s right; knowing that any reservations I have, any reason I might come up with that would justify my hesitancy, it’s all bullshit. My body is sure of the answer already. I can’t argue that he satisfies me in a way that no one ever has before. He is the master of my orgasms—I come at the command of his body, and his body unravels me often.
I don’t know how to protect my heart against him, but I can’t stop us from moving forward. So I don’t fight it. Instead, I let go of his cock and I reach into his back pocket for his wallet. He pulls his fingers out of me and sucks on them as I hunt for the condom I know I’ll find. When I take out what I’m looking for, he strips out of his shirt and I push down his pants. I rip open the package and roll the rubber over his long, hardened length before he bends down and picks me up, guiding my legs around him.
I breathe out a sigh saturated with longing when he presses my back against the wall and fills me with every glorious inch he has to offer. Once he is all the way inside of me, he pauses and stares at me—his icy blue eyes piercing my green ones. I want him to move, I need him to move, but he doesn’t.
“Sage—”
“Say it. I want you to say it.”
“Yes,” I obey.
“Yes, what, baby?”
“Just you and me. No one else.”
“Who owns your orgasm, baby doll?” he asks as he begins to pump in and out of me.
“You,” I mewl, instantly lost in the pleasure of his friction. “Only you.”
“You bet your sweet, little ass.”
When he leans forward to kiss me, I meet him halfway. It’s not a tame kiss, but a greedy one—we suck, we bite, we lick and then repeat. As he pulls away, he repositions me—slipping one arm, then the other, under my legs, so that my knees are hooked over the crook of his elbows. He spreads my legs wider, opening up my hips, causing him to go even deeper. The deep, guttural groan that slips out of me will not be silenced.
“Shit, Millie—you’re so goddamn sexy. Come all over my cock, baby.”
“Faster,” I moan, so close to finding my release that I can utter no other words.
He pounds into me faster and harder. Heat spreads throughout my body from my core as my insides constrict with my orgasm. He continues to move in and out of me, his own climax following on the heels of mine. His thrusts turn lazy as we both come down from our heightened state of pleasure, and then he smacks a kiss against my lips before he pull
s out and eases me down to my feet. I grab onto his biceps to steady myself, my legs feeling unreliable, and he grins.
“You okay, doll face?” I nod and he kisses me again—only slower this time. Deeper. The way he caresses my tongue with his does nothing to strengthen my legs. “Hate to hit and run, but I’ve got to go,” he says when he pulls away.
“What?” I mutter, still breathless from that kiss.
“Yeah, I have to run home,” he tells me as he removes the condom, ties it up, then pulls his pants around his hips. “I’ve got a hot date tonight.” He winks at me before he disappears into the bathroom. He’s only gone for a second, but when he reemerges, his eyes take me in from head to toe as if he hasn’t seen me in a while. “Think she’ll put out after one night?”
“Maybe,” I say with a laugh. “If you play your cards right.”
He grins as he scoops up his shirt and tugs it over his head. “I better not be late, then.” With one more kiss, he heads for the door. “See you in an hour, doll.”
He slips out and the smile on my face lingers. I ignore the small voice in the back of my head that’s trying to grab my attention, trying to warn me that I’m entering into dangerous territory. I don’t want to remember the past. Not right now. Not tonight. Tonight, I want to get dressed and go dancing with that twenty-one year old man; that man who seems to want no one but me. I want to embrace every little thing he makes me feel—all of which far exceeds anything I’ve felt in so long.
So I ignore the small voice in the back of my head as I pick up my clothes from off of the floor and head for my closet. I rifle through my hangers, searching for the perfect dress for tonight. I decide on a sleeveless, mini tunic dress. The rose floral pattern is bold and colorful, the belt that goes with it will go perfectly with my nude wedge heels. The dress and the shoes will both do wonders for my legs. I hope it drives Sage crazy.
I hop in the shower, washing away my day and the sex I just got finished having. I smile, knowing that it won’t be long before I’m covered in a new, thin layer of sweat from a night of dancing. No doubt followed by the delicious musk that will coat my skin after hours in bed with Sage. I shake the thought away, knowing that now is not the time to get distracted.
When I’m finished in the shower, I blow dry my hair, opting to leave it down, and apply a bit of make up. I slip into my dress and I’m fastening the buckle on my shoe when a knock sounds at the door. I feel a ridiculous amount of excitement as I grab my clutch and head down the hallway.
I saw the man an hour ago, for Christ sake.
Yet, despite all reason, when I twist the knob and pull back the barrier that separates us, my stomach flutters at the sight of him. Red Converse. Black jeans. Charcoal gray t-shirt, Mountains & Men scrolled across his chest. His sleeve of tattoos covering his left arm on display. And those horn-rimmed glasses . . .
Who the fuck looks sexy in those things?
He does. He knows it. And now I know it, too.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, giving me a once over. Tingles rush down my spine when he brushes my hair over my shoulder and then presses a kiss against the sensitive spot just behind my ear. “Good thing I claimed your pussy earlier,” he whispers before pulling away, holding out his elbow. “Let’s get out of here.”
One Week Later
“Love . . .
Why I don’t like the word is that it means too much to me,
far more than you can understand.”
—Anna Karenina [Leo Tolstoy]
“ENCORE! ENCORE! ENCORE!”
The room is buzzing, the crowd begging for more. I look around from where I stand, just a few feet away from the stage. Mountains & Men just finished their set. They were amazing, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. I know Sage and the guys must be going wild off stage, listening to the roar of their fans—new and old.
We’re in the next town over at a place called Moxi Theater. The band was offered a headlining spot by chance. Literally. They entered a lottery with dozens of other bands and won the coveted spot. The energy in the room, the excitement that seems to be overflowing—that’s not chance in the slightest. That’s all them. They killed it tonight.
“This is fucking insane!” cries Violet, gripping my wrist to get my attention. “I bet they’re flipping their shit back there!”
The shouting in the room grows louder as Derrick walks back out onto the stage, sticking his tongue out to rile up the crowd even more. Knox and Maddox are close behind, followed by Wren—their bass guitar stand-in. When JJ comes back out, Violet cups her hands around her mouth and yells, “Get it, baby!” I’m sure he can’t hear her, but she doesn’t seem to mind, pleased to add to the cacophony of cheers.
Derrick drops the beat and then Maddox begins to pluck out a solo. I know right away that he’s playing the beginning of a song I’ve not heard before. Knox joins in, then Wren, then JJ, and then out he comes . . .
He oozes sex appeal. It’s not something I can simply see, but something I feel—me along with every other female in the room. I know this by the change in pitch of the cries that battle against the sound of their music. I’m sure he could hop off the stage right now, take his pick of girl by the hand, and she would follow him into any dark corner he wished to occupy. I know the immense amount of pleasure he could bring her, and I’m sure he would leave her begging for a different sort of encore.
I know because it’s exactly how I feel.
“I’ve got to be honest with you,” Sage speaks into the microphone, quieting the crowd, the band still playing behind him. “I was really hoping you’d want just one more song.” The patrons yell and the grin that splices his face makes my stomach flutter. “We’ve got a new one for you tonight. Something special we’ve been working on.” Violet grips my wrist again, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Sage. “There’s a girl out there who inspired me to write this,” he continues to say, his eyes finding mine, as if I’m the only person in the room. “It’s called, Just Tonight. This one’s for you, doll face.”
I see the demons in your eyes and I want to dance
Can’t stop the beat I hear from one haunted glance
Take my hand, baby, don’t let go
I’ll set you free, baby, won’t let go
All night/One song
This room/My home
I’ll set you free, baby, don’t let go
Tonight/Just give me tonight
Can’t stop the beat, can’t stop my feet, just want to dance
I’ll set you free, but will you let me go?
You cage me in and now I can’t let go.
All night/One song
This room/My home
Set me free but, baby, don’t let go
Tonight/ Just give me tonight.
And in my arms you’ll find your ecstasy
When you lose yourself, I’ll set you free
Baby, just let go and let it be, let it be
Tonight/ Just give me tonight.
I see the demons in your eyes and I want to dance
Can’t stop the beat I hear from one haunted glance
Take my hand, baby, don’t let go
Set me free, baby, won’t let go
All night/One song
This room/My home
I’ll set you free, baby, let it be, let it be
Tonight/Just give me tonight
Love. It’s not something I’ve allowed myself to feel in so long. Love is messy. It’s complicated. It’s fucking crazy. In my experience, it sweeps you up and then spits you out, taking with it pieces of yourself that you can never get back. I vowed that I would never become its victim again. Now, here, in a room filled with people, one pair of icy blue eyes is threatening to knock down every barrier I’ve worked so hard to maintain in order to keep my heart safe.
Sage McCoy may just be my undoing—and it scares the shit out of me.
Sage and Millie’s story continues in book one of the Mountains & Men series.
Look for Worthy o
f the Harmony, coming Spring 2016!
Mountains & Men is a spinoff from the Made for Love series. Sage and Millie are first introduced in book three, entitled So Much More. While each book in the Made for Love series can be read as a standalone, every story has characters from the previous novel. It all starts with The Promises We Keep! If you haven’t read it, here’s a sneak peek, just for you . . .
Chapter One
Addison
I WAKE TO A SCREECHING noise coming from the other side of my bedroom wall. “Ugh. Seriously?” I whine as I listen to the barely recognizable melody Sarah is singing in the shower. It’s too early to endure such torture.
I love that girl, I do, but she cannot sing. She’s been my best friend for the last three years and my roommate for the past two. She’s got so many things going for her, but the sound of her voice is almost worse than the beeping of my alarm clock, which isn’t even set to go off for another ten minutes. I’m half tempted to bang on the wall and signal my insistence that she stop—but I’m already up. What’s the point, now, really? She’s obviously in a good mood and I don’t want to ruin it.
Maybe if I join her, I’ll drown her out. At least in my own head, anyway.
I’m half singing, half humming as I make my way out of my room. We live in a three bedroom apartment just a couple blocks away from the CSU campus with my other half. Sarah and my rooms straddle the bathroom and Avery’s room is kitty-corner to mine. Lucky for her, she has a bit of a buffer from the sounds coming from the shower. Not that it would matter—Avery can sleep through just about anything.
I’m on my way to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee when I notice Avery’s long, dark hair draped over the arm of the couch. I peek over and see her stretched out, asleep under a pile of sheet music and a notebook. She’s still in a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt, cluing me into the fact that she didn’t even get around to changing into her pajamas. I smile, amused that she is currently the perfect portrayal of how we spent our Friday night. It most certainly wasn’t the most glamorous evening we’ve ever had, but finals week is only a week away and we’ve all been hitting the books aggressively the past few days.
