Encore Worthy: a Mountains & Men prequel novella

by R. C. Martin

  His possessiveness makes me scoff and my embarrassment is forgotten. I’m suddenly feeling defiant, considering my bare legs are really no one’s concern but my own. I turn to face him, giving him my best annoyed expression. “They’re walking around without shirts on and you’re worried about my legs?”

  He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me against him tightly, and I suck in a breath. I can feel his hard cock pressed against my hip and my own desire is made evident by the pulsing ache between my legs in an instant.

  “Your legs are hot as hell,” he mutters just loud enough for me to hear, grazing his nose along mine. “I’m not going to let you walk around this house getting a bunch of dicks hard and filling their heads with ammo for their fucking spank-banks. Got me?”

  I nod, unable to conjure a single word.

  “Get your ass upstairs, doll face. I’ll bring you some water and something to eat.” When I start to pull away from him, ready and willing to do exactly as he says, he doesn’t let me go. I look at him, an unspoken question in my eyes, and he smirks at me before pressing his lips to mine. “You’re so goddamn gorgeous.” He kisses me again before I push my way out of his arms and take a breath.

  “Keep that up and they’ll see a lot more than my legs.”

  He laughs, which makes me smile, and I wink at him as I turn for the stairs. He smacks my ass before I’m out of reach, eliciting a small yelp. When I look over my shoulder at our audience, I see Violet wearing the biggest grin. She waves and I wave back, feeling slightly awkward, then disappear up the stairs.

  EARLIER, WHEN I CAME back to the room to find Millie asleep, I decided to head out to pick up a couple of things. I didn’t want to leave her before, not until I was sure she was okay; after I had the chance to speak to her, I was levelheaded enough to leave the house. I didn’t go far, stopping at the nearest corner store outside of our neighborhood. I got her a toothbrush and picked up the necessary food items for grilled cheese. As I stand at the stove now, making one for her and two for me, Knox hops up onto the counter next to me.

  “You better be glad you saw her first, kid, that’s all I’m gonna say.”

  I flip him off, not even bothering to look over at him, and he laughs.

  “Sage,” says Violet in a singsongy voice. I turn and look over my shoulder, spotting her as she mimics Knox, sitting across from him on the island counter. “She seems nice.”

  “She spoke, like, two words,” huffs Maddox, making his way into the kitchen and directly to the pantry. He pulls out a bag of pretzels and sits next to Violet. JJ stands in front of Vi and she wraps her arms and legs around him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

  “Uh, no,” I mutter, shaking my head as I look back to the skillet. “We’re not going to do this. We’re not going to pow-wow over Millicent.”

  “She’s pretty,” Violet says, ignoring me. I don’t say a word, flipping the sandwiches to reveal two perfectly golden tops. “So what’s the deal? Are you two dating, now?”

  “How’d she end up with Fuck-tard?” asks Maddox, his mouth full.

  I shrug. “They met at the gym. Guess he was bugging her about buying her a drink. The details are sketchy. Look, I don’t want to talk about that asshole.”

  “We’ll have to talk about him eventually. We’re short a bass player, now.”

  “No shit, Maddox,” I grumble, putting the two finished sandwiches on a plate and starting another.

  “Sage is right,” pipes in JJ. “We don’t have to talk about this now. Your girl, she’s really alright?”

  “Yeah. I think so. She was upset earlier, but I think she’s okay.”

  “And is she?” Violet probes. “Yours, I mean. Is she your girl?”

  “Vi . . .” JJ mutters.

  “What? I’m just saying, it would be nice. One less revolving door around here. Not to mention, a concert companion.”

  “What about Andrea?” Maddox asks, seemingly offended.

  “Please,” we all grumble in unison.

  “Fuck all of you,” he laughs, knowing we have a point.

  “Anyway—back to Millie.”

  “Vi, I told you, we’re not doing this. There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Like hell, there isn’t! Was I the only one here watching that flirt-fest?” she asks, lifting her hand. “You, Sage McCoy, do not flirt in the entryway of this house. It should be called an exitway. That is where you kick girls out—if they’re lucky enough to make it through the door! I haven’t seen you like this in years. So, level with me here—give me something.”

  I finish the last sandwich, adding it to my stack; then I grab Millie’s glass of water and face my friends. “I want her. For now, that’s all there is. That’s all you get.” I leave the room without a backwards glance, heading directly to my bedroom.

  When I open the door, Maestro strolls out into the hallway. I look down at him and he looks up at me. “You in or you out, buddy?” He listens to the hum of conversation downstairs before he goes hunting for a new crowd. I shake my head at his indifference and then close the door behind me.

  “Grilled cheese sound good?”

  Millie is standing at my desk, admiring my clutter. When I sit on the bed, she comes and joins me. “Grilled cheese always sounds good. Thank you.”

  “What is it with you and these things, anyway?” I ask as she takes her first bite.

  She shrugs, finishing what’s in her mouth before she answers. “It’s my comfort food. Always has been.” She doesn’t look at me when she speaks, making me think there’s more to her answer than she’s telling me, but I don’t press. “So, that looks like the mess of a genius,” she says, nodding back over her shoulder.

  “Is it killing you? Do you want to go stack it in neat, even piles?”

  “A little,” she replies with a grin that makes my dick stir.

  “Well, I wouldn’t call myself a genius, but sometimes shit that doesn’t suck happens over there.”

  “How long have you guys been here—or, I guess, how long have you been Mountains & Men?”

  “I met Maddox and Knox when I was twelve, when they moved into my neighborhood. We’d all dabbled in music one way or another on our own. We started fooling around with the idea of a band a few years later. By the time I was eighteen, we’d roped in JJ and Derrick. At some point, rooming together became an act of convenience, one of life’s blessings in disguise. We found this spot with the perfect garage and moved in. Been here ever since.”

  She hums, signaling that she’s listening, and picks at her sandwich. “And Keith?”

  “He’s only been with us for a year. It’s not exactly a loss.”

  She sighs, looking away from me again. “I’m sorry this happened, that it’s screwing with your band. I can see how important they are to you.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” I insist, reaching out to tip up her chin. Her dark green eyes meet mine and I shake my head at her. “Don’t apologize for anything. He’s not worthy of another thought. We’ll find someone new. Someone better. We’ll be fine—we always are. Got it?”

  “Yeah. I got it.”

  “Good. How’s your sandwich? Do you need another one?”

  “No. It’s perfect.”

  “Do you want to watch a movie or something? I’ll let you pick,” I tease, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  “Okay. What have you got?”

  Ten minutes later, we’re watching the opening credits to Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Needless to say, her quick and easy choice just gives me one more reason to like her. When I push the pillows against the headboard and prop myself up, I lift my arm in a silent request for Millie to tuck herself against me. She does, and it doesn’t take long for her lithe, warm body to distract me. After another ten minutes, the last thing on my mind is Ferris Bueller.

  “Hey,” I murmur, looking down at her. When she looks up at me, I don’t hesitate before I press my lips to hers. Each time I deliver a light kiss, I’m reminded of how long it’s been si
nce I’ve tasted the inside of her mouth. When she opens up for me, I dive in, reaching up to sink my fingers in her hair. She twists her tongue with mine and all I want is more. I kiss her deeper and she moans, the sound awakening my dick. When she leans into me, one of her legs hooking over one of mine, I grab her hips and bring her to my lap. She straddles me, her hands turning needy as she feels her way across my shoulders and down my chest. She rocks her hips, pressing her pussy against the bulge in my pants, and we both free a sigh.

  “You miss me, baby doll?”

  She nods, closing her mouth around mine as she rocks her hips once more. I groan as she teases me, my cock undeniably hard for her. I slip a hand into her panties and swipe my finger over her entrance. She gasps, her hands finding their way into my hair.

  “Make me come, Sage. I want you,” she breathes.

  I toss my glasses onto the nightstand before I open the top drawer and reach for a condom. It takes me longer than it should, the feel of her lips on my neck and her teeth tugging on my earlobe distracting me.

  “Fuck, doll face.”

  “Yes, please,” she says with a grin.

  I strip her out of my shirt and her hard nipples stand out as if they are screaming for my attention. I suck one into my mouth and she whimpers as she grinds against me again, clearly impatient.

  “Sage, don’t make me beg—I will. I swear, I will,” she mutters.

  I chuckle as I pull away from her, lifting my hips off the bed. “A little help?” She wastes no time pulling my pants to my knees. My dick stands to attention in between us and I can hear it as her breathing turns ragged with desperation. I rip open the condom and suit up before shoving her panties aside. She doesn’t need permission to ease her way over me, so she takes what she wants.

  She’s feeling greedy and it’s sexy as fuck.

  “That’s it, doll face, take my cock—all of it, baby.”

  When she’s fully seated, she reaches back to grip my thighs, offering her the leverage she needs to glide up and down my shaft. Watching her take control turns me on even more, and I can’t help but stare, my hands roaming up her legs, across her stomach, around her tits, then back down.

  “Oh, Sage, you feel so good—so fucking good,” she groans.

  “Just good, huh?” I question, taking hold of her hips.

  It’s my turn to drive.

  Using the power of my legs, I thrust my hips up hard, hammering into her over and over. “Who fills your pussy like I do? Tell me.”

  Her hands grope their way up my body and around the back of my neck, her eyes focused on mine, her mouth open as she whimpers and sighs. Each sound uttered is like a note sung and it’s the sexist fucking song I have ever heard in my life. I know listening to her will only make me come faster.

  “Answer me, doll face,” I demand. “Who fills your pussy like I do?”

  “No one—oh, shit—Sage! No one!”

  “Are you going to come for me, baby doll?” I mutter, my thumb finding her clit as my balls start to tighten.

  “Please,” she hardly manages. Her grip tightens around my shoulders as she throws her head back. “Sage—fuck! Yes!”

  Her pussy clenches my dick and my groans mingle with hers as I spill my release. “Millie—baby—!” She frees a sated sigh as she rests her forehead against mine, her hands falling to my chest as we both come down from our moment of bliss. “Every time, doll face—fuck, I can’t get enough of you.”

  “Me neither,” she breathes.

  She kisses me, her mouth hungry for more, and I don’t refuse her. I hold her against me with one hand and squeeze her ass with my other. She hums when I roll us over, pinning her beneath me. I pull away just long enough to take my dick out of her heat and toss the used condom aside. We kiss until I’m hard again and then she has only one request.

  “Again.”

  LATER THAT SUNDAY evening, after a couple hours of worshipping each other’s bodies, we finally watched the movie. As soon as it was over, Millie told me that she needed to get home, so I took her to her car and then followed her back to her apartment. I went with the excuse of wanting to make sure she got in alright, but I’m still not sorry about the twenty minutes we spent making out in front of her door before she forced herself out of my arms. I could tell it was hard for her to say goodbye, which I’ll admit felt pretty damn awesome.

  Monday came and brought hell with it. Dealing with the aftermath of beating the shit out of our bass player and kicking him out of the band fucking sucked. Derrick and I spent a good amount of time going over all the gigs we have for the next few weeks, trying to line up a couple guys to fill in until we can find a replacement. JJ started blasting want ads all over social media, and we hope to get some hits and start the audition process soon.

  It’s been a little tense around the house. Nobody blames me for my actions or my decision, but the timing sucks ass. We’ve got some really big shows coming up, so we’ve all been a little on edge. It certainly doesn’t help that by Thursday, relieving a little stress by hitting the gym isn’t cutting it anymore. I need some fucking pussy and the only pussy I want has been temporarily unattainable. If she’s not working, I am—either with the guys or at Little Bird. Even still, I’ve called her every day. There’s something about hearing her voice that calms me down and pulls me into a creative space.

  I finally finished writing her song and JJ and I have been collaborating on the composition. It’s going to be some pretty sick shit. I haven’t told her about it, though. I want it to be a surprise.

  Fuck. Rosy was right. This chick is turning me into a sap . . .

  I want her, anyway. She’s worth it. I just know it.

  Friday night, as I stand behind the coffee bar with Brandon, the evening rush long forgotten, I wonder what Millie is doing. I can think of a few things I wish we were doing right now, but I know I won’t see her until tomorrow night. The Brew Cycle with everyone should be fun. I appreciate Sarah putting the whole thing together and triggering Millicent’s yes. It’s a start, and I’ll take what I can get.

  When I look over at Brandon, his focus zeroed in on his phone, I can’t help but laugh. I know, without even having to ask, who he’s texting. It’s written all over his face.

  “Did that hurt?”

  He looks up from his phone with a scowl.“What?” he asks, sliding his mobile into his pocket.

  “That tat on your forehead. You know, the one that says, Pussy-Whipped,” I tease, pointing at his head.

  He flips me off, which makes me laugh again, and he joins in before he mutters, “Shut up.”

  “Seriously, you should see what you look like when you’re texting her. She’s got your balls.”

  “No shit! I sure as hell am not complaining, though.”

  I study him, folding my arms across my chest as I lean up against the front counter. “Fuck, man. You’re not kidding around. You’re for real about her.”

  “You’re not seriously just now figuring that out, are you?” he asks with a smirk.

  I shake my head at him, knowing that he doesn’t get what I’m saying. Everybody knows how they feel about each other. It’s the most obvious shit in the world. But this . . .”No, I mean, like—you love her and shit.” He doesn’t say a word, which is all the confirmation I need. “Part of me wants to give you a hard time,” I say with a smirk. “But I can’t. You’re one lucky dude. Sarah’s the shit.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  “I owe her big time for getting Millie to go out with me.”

  “You really like this one. I’ve never seen you try so hard.”

  “It’s like I said, man—she’s insane,” I tell him, rubbing my chin. “She’s wicked smart and sexy as fuck.” I shake my head, thinking over the past week. I’m getting to know her, but she’s different than other girls. I know that there’s so much more to her than she’s letting me see. “Sarah was right, though. She’s got her guard up all the time. I’ve got my work cut out for me. But I know she
’s worth it. I just have to get her to see that I am, too.”

  “Good luck with that, man. Seriously. I hope it works out for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  We chat for another few minutes and then he heads to the back to finish up a few things before we close. I clean up a little bit, my thoughts continuously drifting back to Millie. I was giving Brandon shit about Sarah, but I don’t really have room to speak. I can’t even remember the last time I thought about a girl this much. This isn’t about the chase. It’s about her.

  Her long-ass legs.

  Her narrow hips.

  Her perfect tits.

  Her straight hair.

  Her sweetheart lips.

  Her eyes, green and gorgeous.

  Her eyes, haunted and mysterious.

  There are demons in her eyes and I can’t look away.

  I can’t let go.

  WHEN MY MOTHER calls, I ignore her.

  For the first time in forever, I have a date with a guy that I can’t wait to see. He’s made it nearly impossible for me to go two minutes without thinking about him. It’s as if he’s managed to find a way to manipulate time to his advantage; every moment, every hour, every day that goes by that we don’t get to see each other—he uses that as a tool. A weapon. I’ve been fighting it all week—futilely battling my thoughts, longing for the control that he seems to have taken from me.

  My life now excepts him. Anticipates him. What used to be a physical longing, an ache that could only be soothed by his touch, has morphed into this mental struggle. I find myself daydreaming about him when I should be grading assignments. I’m dreaming of him instead of sleeping with no memory of my subconscious activity. I except his call every day; I anticipate his texts when he’s thinking of me. He’s relentless.

  I’m a fucking man who knows what he wants.

  He’s not a liar. He knows what he wants and what he wants is me. For reasons I haven’t defined with words yet, I want him, too. I’m still not convinced that this is smart. I’m not convinced that this is safe. I’m not convinced that either of us will make it out of this unscathed but . . . for the first time in forever, I have a date with a guy I can’t wait to see. That feeling is not one that I can tuck away and ignore. Even if I wanted to, he wouldn’t let me. So, when my mother calls, I ignore her.