by R. C. Martin
I think about it for a second, my curiosity getting the better of me before I realize, “I don’t think Sage—”
“You’re kidding, right? He’d do anything for you—including a night at Sunset Canyon. All you have to do is say the word.”
A smile, a real smile, pulls at the corners of my mouth as I picture Sage, my sexy rocker, line dancing. The thought of spending the evening with friends—laughing, dancing, and drinking—makes me feel a little lighter than I did a minute ago. If nothing else, it’ll provide just the distraction I need.
I dip my chin in agreement and Violet beams at me.
“We’re going to have so much fun. I promise!”
“What time should we be ready?”
“They have a mini lesson at seven-thirty, and then the real fun starts at eight. Hell—let’s go at six. We’ll grab some dinner first and make a night of it.” She looks down at her phone and then swears under her breath. “I’ve got to pee and then get out of here, but I’ll be back in about an hour. We’ll tell the guys our plans then.”
“Okay,” I agree with a nod.
She grins at me and then disappears into the bathroom. I shake my head as I make my way back to Sage’s room, heading to his closet for something warm to wear. After I pull one of his sweatshirts over my body, I spot his red, flannel button-up, and I can’t help but smile. I pluck it from the hanger and toss it on the bed before I slip my feet into my fuzzy boots. That shirt will be perfect for later.
IT WAS THE TWINKLE I saw in her eye when I looked at her that made me agree. Violet didn’t so much ask if I wanted to go, more like demanded that I be ready on time—but one glance at my girl and I was in. Then, when we stopped by Millie’s place so she could change for the evening, we almost didn’t make it out the door.
It’s the dead of winter, so she’s not in anything skimpy, but she still dressed to kill. Her jeans are tight, showing off those long-ass legs I love, the cuffs tucked into a pair of black boots that come up to her ankles. She’s got on a long-sleeved, white shirt that’s cut so low I can almost make out the top of her bra, and the fabric clings to her tits, making me want to take them out and devour them. The sweater she put on is long and black, the entire back cut out into some sort of lacy pattern. She left most of her hair down, pulling half of it back and away from her face, and she looks gorgeous—especially now, as she throws me a playfully irritated expression.
We’re standing, facing each other, listening to the guy at the front giving us instructions. I can hardly hear him. My girl is fine as all hell; and after the couple beers I had with dinner, I could give a fuck about the two-step, I just want my baby doll pressed up against me.
“Sage, are you even listening?”
I offer her a smirk and she smacks my arm.
“Baby, please?”
“Okay,” I agree begrudgingly. I lean toward her and smack a kiss against her lips before looking at the instructor, trying to memorize what he’s saying so that I might mimic his steps. The two-step isn’t exactly rocket science, and I’ve got enough rhythm to conquer the basic idea. When Millie and I finally try it, we look like a couple of novices, but the smile on her face is all I care about.
After our lesson, we seek out Violet and JJ. They sat at a table and ordered a round of drinks during the tutorial. When we join them, I see a bottle of beer waiting for me, and a gin and tonic for my girl.
“You guys looked good out there,” says Violet as we take our seats.
“Yeah. Not too shabby for a couple newbies,” teases JJ.
I chuckle, lifting my bottle to take a swig. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve seen him let loose to a country jam. The last time I was here, I was still in college, still walking around clubs with those stupid X marks on my hands. The only reason I stepped foot in this place was because there was no way I was taking Violet on her word that JJ could cut a rug to some country twang. I thought for sure I’d come and laugh my ass off; turns out, Violet wasn’t lying. His two-steppin’ skills are definitely a hidden talent, buried underneath the true rocker that he is.
“Fuck, yes! I love this song. Come on guys, let’s go,” Violet insists as she stands to her feet, tugging JJ out onto the dance floor.
When I look to Millie, she offers me an apprehensive smile. I wink at her and then offer her my arm before leading her out with the others. We’re barely two counts in before Millie’s stopped in her tracks, her eyes glued to JJ as he twirls Violet this way and then that way. A smirk pulls at my lips as I draw my girl close, pressing my lips against her temple.
“Wow,” she breathes.
“Right?” I reply with a laugh. When she doesn’t stop staring, I smack her ass. She frees a yelp before looking up at me with her pretty, dark green eyes. “You’re stuck with me darlin’,” I drawl teasingly.
She laughs softly and then we get lost in the music, shuffling around the floor. The song that comes on after is accompanied with a line dance of some sort, and Violet is quick to jump between us, teaching us the steps. Millie picks it up with ease, and I stumble my way through—too distracted at the sight of her to give two shits about my feet. She’s laughing, the combination of good food, good company, and good booze causing her to relax. After everything she’s been through over the last week, this is exactly what she needs.
We line dance for a couple more tracks, and when the song changes again, people start to couple up. Before I can reach Millie, JJ takes her in his arms. I quirk a warning eyebrow at him and he laughs as he says, “It’s time I show her how it’s done. Watch and learn, Sage.”
With a giggle, Violet links her arm through mine and nods toward our table. “I could go for another drink. You?”
“Yeah, sure.”
We order a round for everyone before heading back to our seats. My eyes drift back to Millie immediately, watching as JJ spins her around effortlessly.
“How’s she doing?” asks Violet.
I don’t pull my gaze away from my girl as I answer, “Better than I’d be if I were in her shoes.” I take a pull from my beer before I say, “She’s strong. I mean, I always figured she was tough, you know? She’s got that brain and that smart-ass mouth. She’s stubborn as hell, too. But underneath all of that? She’s more resilient than I think even she knows.”
Violet reaches over and squeezes my arm, causing me to turn and look into her bright, blue eyes. “Don’t count yourself out, Sage. She’s got you, too. I see how she leans on you.”
I don’t say anything in reply, shifting my focus back out onto the dance floor. Truth be told, there’s nothing to be said. I love her. I sure as fuck hope she knows I’m here for her, no matter what—and I’m not going anywhere.
As soon as the song ends, JJ and Millie make their way back to us. Millie sits, but JJ only takes a gulp of his drink before extending his hand to Violet. She’s up in an instant, and they’re back out there, showing off. I look to Millie, asking her with a single glance if she wants to be out there, too, but she shakes her head no. She then moves her chair closer to mine so she can lean against me as she sips at her drink.
“Sage?”
“Yeah, baby?”
She rests her head against my shoulder as she says, “Thanks for bringing me here.”
I reach for her hand and bring it into my lap, lacing our fingers together as I twist to press a kiss against her forehead. “Any time, baby doll,” I assure her. “For you, any time.”
I WAKE UP IN a quiet house.
It’s been a week since Millie and I got back from New Jersey. I’ve kept her close, wanting to make sure she’s okay. She’s been pretty emotional since I got back into town, even before she found out about her mom. I know Christmas can take it out of people, but this is more than that. She’s got a lot going on in that head of hers; and to be honest, I don’t want to leave her alone with her feelings for too long. She does some fucked up shit when she lets her thoughts fester—like try to break up with me.
I’m not afraid she’l
l do something that stupid, but for now, I don’t want to take any chances. Besides, she shouldn’t spend the entirety of her winter break alone, anyway. Not while she’s feeling sad and overwhelmed.
My plans to put in some hours at Little Bird were scrapped, the days before Christmas dwindling down to zero faster than I could keep track. Today, on the morning of Christmas Eve, it’s only Millie and me in the house, my mates all gone to celebrate the holiday with their families. Derrick was the last of the bunch to pack up and go, leaving for Kansas to hang out with his cousins yesterday afternoon. Usually, I’d hit the mall and then head to Pepper’s house to hang out, but not this year. This year, Christmas Eve is going to be for me and my girl.
I don’t know what time it is, only that the sun is up and I’m hungry as a motherfucker. I think about all the food I don’t have in the kitchen and all the warm foods that sound good that I don’t know how to make. My stomach growls, and I decide it’s time to wake Millie and coax her out of bed—bribing her with the idea of a nice, hot breakfast. It’s been a minute since I’ve eaten at Morning Glory. They serve the best damn pancakes. My mouth waters at the thought, and I’ve made up my mind.
Looking at Millie, totally knocked out beside me—her hands tucked beneath her cheek, her bare shoulder peeking out from underneath the covers—I don’t hesitate to just stare at her for a moment. My best girl. In every way, she’s all that I’ve ever wanted in a woman. Gorgeous. Intelligent. Sweet, but with a smart-ass mouth I can’t get enough of. She’s tender on the inside, but tough on the outside. And most of all, she believes in me. She sees me for who I am.
I love her, and I love her hard; not because she makes my heart sing; not because she’s—hands down, dick up—the best lay I’ve ever had in my entire life; not even because I fought so hard to get her. I’m in love with her because beneath that hard shell, behind that sassy mouth, underneath her stubborn nature lies a woman whose vulnerability is nothing short of sheer, fucking beauty. Every glimpse I see of Millie—my Millicent—it makes me want her more. And with every passing day, she invites me in a little deeper, proving herself to be a rare treasure worthy of the fight.
Suddenly, I’m craving something more than pancakes. I smile to myself and then sneak beneath the covers toward the foot of the bed. My feet stick out from under the warmth of our blanket, but I don’t mind—my dick already twitching with excitement. I roll her onto her back, and she frees a sleepy sigh as I position myself between her legs, my mouth hovering over her pussy.
I flatten and then drag my tongue up her slit, repeating the act over and over until she begins to stir. I stifle a chuckle but don’t fight my grin when her sweet cunt grows more delicious as she becomes aroused. Though, I laugh when I hear her sharp inhalation of surprise followed by her abrupt movement. She lifts the sheets and peers down at me, as if to confirm that it’s me who’s about to devour the hell out of her pussy—
Like it would be anyone else…
“Morning, baby doll,” I mutter, my lips grazing her wet skin, my voice still hoarse from sleep.
She groans in reply, lifting her knees and spreading her legs as she drops the sheet and starts to relax. I wrap my lips around her clit, sucking her into my mouth before I flick the sensitive flesh with the tip of my tongue.
“Oh, god,” she moans airily.
I graze over her clit with my teeth as I pull away, and then I plunge my tongue into her entrance, lapping her up like the hungry man that I am. I free a grunt, voicing just how much I’m enjoying this. When she rolls her hips against my mouth greedily, I reach my hands up and flatten my palms against the inside of her thighs, pressing her down, making my desires known.
I own her orgasm.
Me.
My tongue does a figure-eight, teasing her entrance and her clit as I work her up even more. From down here, buried underneath the covers, I can still hear her ragged breathing, and my dick aches to take a dip. I resist and suck on her clit, determined to taste her orgasm.
“Baby!” she cries with a jerk. I can tell she wants to move her hips, but I won’t let her.
I suck harder.
The deep, guttural sound she makes in response shatters my restraint. I run my tongue along the length of her slit once more, sampling her cum, and then I crawl up her body. I sink my dick into her swollen center just as my head breaks out from beneath the covers. “Mmmm, Sage,” she sighs, her hooded eyes peering up at me.
“You’re so goddamn sexy,” I mutter before I lean down and capture her mouth with mine. She hums, her fingers sliding up the back of my neck and into my hair as I roll my hips. She’s fucking tight, and her soaked pussy feels so good—warm and slick and inviting. “Fuck, baby, I love your pussy,” I mumble against her mouth.
“Love your dick,” she whispers in reply.
My lips curl into a grin and she giggles—the sound raspy and sexy as all hell.
“You gonna come again for me, baby?”
Her hands slide out of my hair and over my back as her eyes lock with mine. “You are the master of my orgasms—you own me, Sage. Every part of me, baby. So, you tell me—am I going to come again?”
“Shit,” I hiss, loving every single word of her goddamn challenge. I prop my hands on either side of her head, lifting myself up a little, offering myself more mobility. I roll my hips slower, careful to graze my pelvis against her clit with every thrust. Looking down between us, I have to bite my lip—hard—in order to keep myself from blowing my load. Fucking love the sight of my dick disappearing into her perfect cunt.
“Yes—yes, don’t stop,” she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
I don’t stop. I go slower, exaggerating my every move. She sucks in a breath, arching her back as her pussy begins to flutter around me.
“Sage!” she moans loudly.
“Come for me, baby,” I demand, seconds away from losing control.
“Yes,” she whimpers as her walls tighten, pulling forth my release.
I pump in and out of her lazily until she milks me dry, and then I settle my weight on top of her. She breathes a sated sigh as she clings to me. I brush my lips across hers softly before I say, “Merry Christmas Eve, baby.”
I’M SHORT OF BREATH, unable to inhale deeply with his weight resting atop my chest,but I don’t give a damn. I’ve been awake for all of thirty minutes and it’s already the best Christmas Eve I’ve had in my entire life. I don’t want him to move. I don’t want to breathe if it means the loss of him from chest to toe.
“Kiss me,” I command in a whisper.
He smirks at me before he does as I say, kissing me thoroughly. I enjoy every second. With his tongue in my mouth, tasting of Sage and my arousal, I don’t think of anything but the man I love. It’s during moments like this that I’m reminded that happiness isn’t something that I can escape; it’s not something that can be stolen from me, despite what the past and the present may argue. No, happiness is languorous morning kisses, or driving through the snow-covered streets in the dead of night, admiring Christmas lights; it’s the reality that while we might not be promised tomorrow, we were blessed with today, and today can be filled with love making, whispered sweet-nothings, and the memory of surviving yesterday.
Happiness is stopping to question mortality and eternity; stopping to question whether or not there is a God out there—someone who has watched me and allowed me to grow up in an environment void of love only because His plan the whole time was to bring me here—to this man, in this moment—to be on the receiving end of this love, a love I’m so unworthy to call mine. Happiness is wondering and believing that perhaps timing is everything and our experiences are not coincidence, but a series of choices that are laid before us so that we might chose our own adventure.
Happiness is knowing that I am loved because I chose this man—this man who kisses me like I’m the only woman in the entire world that he wishes to taste. And in this moment, death, abandonment, sorrow, and regret—they’re not strong enough to rob m
e of my choice; my choice to choose him, to choose Sage and our future.
“I love you,” I whisper into his mouth. “I love you so much, Sage.”
“I know,” he utters. “I know, doll.” He groans before he starts to pull out of me. I whimper when he drives his cock back inside of my core, realizing that he’s grown hard again. “I love you, too, Millicent.”
He makes love to me all over again. Then, when he brings me to orgasm not just once more, but twice more, I decide that there must be a God out there somewhere.
SAGE CONVINCES ME to get out of bed and into the shower so that we can go out for breakfast. I’m glad he does. He takes me to Morning Glory, where the wait is insane—especially considering the holiday. Or, I suppose, perhaps because of the holiday. Nevertheless, he insists that we wait it out. The cinnamon apple pancake with cinnamon brown sugar butter and a boat load of maple syrup with a touch of caramel glaze is outrageously delicious, and indulgent, and totally worth the wait.
When we’re finished, he tells me that he’s going to take me to the mall. The mall, on the eve of Christmas, seems like a horrible idea—but when he describes the sad look I’ll see on Henley and Carter’s faces if he doesn’t show up with gifts for them tomorrow, I seal my lips shut and allow him to escort me wherever he desires. Besides, a bit of walking after our late breakfast would probably do me good.
An hour later, we’re leaving store number three. Sage’s latest purchase was a pack of pencils for Rosemary. Just…pencils. Earlier, he had gotten her a really pretty infinity scarf and a pair of monkey print socks. The pencils, however, totally throw me for a loop.
“I don’t have much experience with Christmas presents. And not to question your gifting skills, but what nineteen-year-old wants pencils for Christmas, Sage?”
He laughs, dropping the small bag into one of the bigger ones before he grabs my hand and leads me through the crowd.