I adore him. Every little thing about him that I’ve come to know, I like. More than that, I want. His passion for music. His talent, both hidden and on full display. His optimism. His spontaneity. His confidence. His dominance. His affection. His foul mouth. All of him—wrapped up in the beautiful, tattooed package that holds me now—I want it all. I want it so much that as I carefully roll away from him and crawl out of bed, I know that I’m not just leaving pieces of my heart behind—I’m leaving an entire chunk of it in his possession.
My eyes well up with tears as I get dressed as quickly and as quietly as possible. I can hardly think straight, the pain in my chest more intense than it was a few hours ago, when I first tried to leave.
I’m yours when you want me. You hear me, Millicent? I’m yours.
His words cling to me now. As they play on repeat in my head, I feel them pulling me back toward him—back into his bed—back into his arms. I search for my shoes instead. I know the pain I feel now is nothing in comparison to how it’ll feel if I stay long enough to watch him walk away. I didn’t mean for it to get this far between us, but here I am. I gave him more of my heart than he was ever meant to have. I don’t have much left. If he takes anymore, he’ll ruin me. I’ve been left too many times and I know he would be the end of me. I know because he’s more than I ever thought I wanted.
I blindly reach for my shoes, my tears making it impossible for me to see. I remember that I dropped my phone and my keys in the laundry room earlier and I’ll have to go grab them; but then, when I try putting on my second shoe, I find them inside. Sage grabbed them, along with all of my clothes. For whatever reason, that just makes me want to cry harder. I have to get out of here. Now.
When I slowly crack open the door, I startle Maestro, who is laying in the hallway. I close my eyes, hoping with everything that is in me that he won’t bark. He doesn’t. Instead, he trots past me, into the room. I free a quivering sigh and shut the door behind me. I don’t even have the strength to give Sage one more look.
I tiptoe my way down the stairs, relieved that I’ve made it this far, and then stop dead in my tracks when I reach the entryway of the house. Derrick is awake, sitting on the couch in front of the television. Whatever he’s watching is turned down so low, I can’t image how he can hear it at all. For a fraction of a second, I wonder why he’s up at this time of night, but it’s a fleeting thought.
“You okay?” he mumbles.
I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. Caught off guard, I find myself telling the truth. Well, not so much telling as showing. I shake my head, taking another step toward the door.
“He’ll come running. You do realize that, don’t you?” I speak not a word as I simply stare at him from where I stand. “He doesn’t fall often. The last girl he was with did a number on him. He doesn’t trust chicks easily. He sure as hell doesn’t commit; hasn’t for years. But he wants you.
“He’ll come after you. He’ll come running. He’ll fight for you. It’s just in his nature. He’s a chaser.”
“And what happens when he catches me?” I murmur. “How long until he feels the need to chase after someone else?”
Derrick shrugs. “No one can predict those things, Millie. That’s life. The thrill of the unknown is why the dive is worth taking. What’s the point of living if you aren’t going to jump?”
I blink and a tear spills down my cheek. I fear that the dam is about to break and I don’t have it in me to think about what he’s just said. I need to get out of here. I need to go home.
“Please don’t wake him.”
He offers me a single nod and then I’m gone.
I’M NOT A LIGHT sleeper—but when more than one thing disrupts my slumber at the same time, I’ve been known to crawl my way into consciousness for a minute before settling back into sleep. I hear Maestro’s dog tags first. It’s a faint noise, more like a tickle of my senses, and I think nothing of it. Then my hands run over cool sheets and I realize my arms are empty. I open my eyes, sure that I fell asleep with Millicent wrapped around me. When I look and notice that I’m in my bed alone, I sit up and reach for my glasses. I survey the room, finding not a trace of my girl. Then I hear it.
A car door.
I jump out of bed and hurry to the window, buck-ass-naked. I don’t give a shit who sees me, all I care about is the fact that Millie just left me. Without a word, she got up and left me. How could she? Did I not make it perfectly clear that I’m in this? That she has no reason to run? Didn’t I fuck that truth into her all night long? She’s got me. She’s fucking got me.
Now wide awake, the blood coursing through my veins as my adrenaline kicks into high gear, I rummage through my dresser for some clothes. Sweatpants and a t-shirt cover my body in seconds. I don’t even bother with socks before sliding my feet into a pair of Chucks. I’m out the door, keys in hand, without a second thought. I wouldn’t have even noticed Derrick had I not heard him chuckle from the living room.
“What the fuck, man? You let her leave?” I ask thoughtlessly.
“Hey, she’s not my woman. But she knows you're coming,” he says with a tired grin. “I warned her you would. She’ll be pissed you’re right on her heels, though.”
“Well, she’s got another thing coming if she thinks I’m waiting until dawn.”
He chuckles again, but I know he's not laughing at me. He’s laughing because every word that I’ve spoken to him is a word he’s probably anticipated since he watched Millie leave. He knows me well. “Why are you still here talking to me? Go get her, Dweeb.”
I don’t waste another second, not even bothering to say goodbye before I fly out the door to my car. I’m pissed that she left, but that’s not what drives me. More than anything, I’m afraid she’s slipping through my fingers. I can’t lose her. I won’t. She’s pushing me away. I don’t know why, but I’m going to find out. She’s mine and I won’t have it any other way.
IT TAKES ME longer than usual to drive home. I cry the whole way. The one good thing about driving around at two in the morning is that there really isn’t any traffic. That’s about the only thing I have going for me right now. I pull into a parking spot in front of my building and wipe my cheeks clean as I take a deep breath. I have to be up for work in just a few hours. I'm going to look like shit. No. Worse. I'll be the fucking walking dead.
I shouldn't complain. I have no one to blame but myself.
Knowing that the sun will be up before I'm ready, I step out of my car and head inside. I'm exhausted, but something tells me I won't actually be able to fall asleep. Not even for a little while. I have to try, though. Calculus equations are kinder when I've gotten some rest, even if only a laughable amount.
I make my way into the kitchen first, flipping on the light before grabbing a glass. I'm reaching for the faucet when I hear footsteps pounding up the stairs. I brace myself, hoping it isn’t anyone other than a neighbor who could care less about waking the entire hallway, knowing all along it can only be one man.
Sage.
My dreamer.
My chaser.
My suspicions are proven correct when there’s a banging on my door. “Open up, doll face,” he yells.
Fuck. Forget waking the whole hallway, he'll wake the whole damn building!
I hurry to the door, swinging it open with a scowl on my face. “Jesus! Could you be any louder?”
He’s breathing fast, like he ran the whole distance here, and there’s a scowl tugging at his brow, too—that is, until his eyes notice the state of my face. I curse my pale complexion, my broken heart, and his timing, all of which contribute to his ability to see just how hard it was for me to walk away. He reaches up to cup my cheek, but I jerk away from him. I know if he touches me, I'll either start crying again, or I'll fall into his arms. Or both.
“I had my dick inside of you less then two hours ago, and now I can’t touch you?” he asks, his scowl returning. I don't respond, the knot in my throat preventing me from
being able to do so without triggering the waterworks. “Millicent, talk to me!”
I press my hand over my heart as my eyes well up again. “Don’t call me that,” I barely manage, my voice hardly above a whisper.
“Why not?” he asks, stepping closer to me. “You love it.”
“I know.” My voice breaks at my admission.
“Baby,” he murmurs, slipping his arms around my waist.
He smells like Sage. And sweat. And sex. And me. And just as I had feared, his touch is my undoing. When I start to cry, he shuts the door behind him and then cradles my head against his shoulder, his hard body keeping me upright. A part of me cannot believe I'm having a meltdown in front of him. Though, another part of me—the bigger part of me—needs this just as much as I need him.
“Talk to me, baby doll. What in the hell were you thinking, leaving in the middle of the night like that?”
“I can't, Sage. I'm sorry, we can't do this.”
“But we are. It's done. This is you and me.”
“Yeah, today, maybe,” I argue, pulling my face away from his chest so that I can look into his eyes. My pride has vanished, so I don't even bother hiding my tears. “How long could this possibly last? You're twenty-one years old and—”
“You've got to be fucking kidding me. How are we back to that? Millie,” he pauses, gently cupping his hands around my cheeks, wiping my tears with the pads of his thumbs. “What? What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not messing around with you? I'm here. I'm right fucking here, telling you that I want you. You. Only you!”
“You want me now because it’s all about the chase. You’ll fight for me now because you don’t have me. It’s only a matter of time before I’m yours; it’s only a matter of time before you decide you want to chase someone else. That’s how the game is played, Sage, and I don’t want to play with you anymore.”
He groans, pulling his hands away from me before he runs his fingers through his hair. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said, I can hardly even untangle it.” I open my mouth to speak, but he presses a finger against my lips and shakes his head. “No. I’m done listening to your bullshit, baby. I’m sorry, but I’m just done.
“As long as you keep running from me, you bet your sweet, little ass I’m going to be chasing after you. As long as you keep pushing me away, I’m sure as hell going to fight for you. I want you, Millicent—just you. This isn’t a game. I’m not playing you—I’m fucking falling for you. I’m not going anywhere. I think I’ve made that fact abundantly clear. You’re the one who left me tonight, remember? Which was pretty dumb, by the way. Know why?” He rests his forehead against mine and I watch as his eyes fall closed.
“Why?” I whisper.
“Because, you’re already mine, gorgeous. You’re my girl and I’m your guy. Simple as that.”
“But Sage—”
He silences my feeble attempt at a counterargument, pressing his lips against mine. He kisses me firmly, but gently—slowly—and it’s in this moment that I claim defeat. I’ll never win this battle—not against Sage. Not against these lips. These hands. This body. His heart. He’s won.
I’m his.
I lift myself onto my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck, needing him closer. He bends down and grips the back of my thighs, hoisting me up. Instinctively, my legs lock at my ankles behind his back. As he begins to carry me down the hallway, I feel it when his cock grows hard—his erection nudging the bottom of my ass with every step he takes. In spite of the hour and the many rounds we had in bed earlier in the night, I want him so much. My rapid pulse pounds in my ears, echoing what my heart wants. What my heart needs.
Sage.
He lies me on my bed and neither of us says a word, knowing that our need for one another supersedes anything that could possibly be said. We’re done talking for the night. Instead, I watch as he discards his glasses and then pulls off his shirt, revealing his chiseled torso and the extensive amount of artwork that decorates his upper body. When he drops his pants and steps out of his shoes, I learn that he’s not wearing any underwear—his cock springing free in all of its glorious splendor. My stomach tingles and the ache between my legs overwhelms me.
Before he gets in bed with me, he opens one of my nightstand drawers and reaches for a condom. He slides it underneath the pillow where my head rests and then he proceeds to cover my face with the sweetest kisses—his lips tracing the tracks of my tears. It makes me want to cry some more, but I don’t. I close my eyes as I seek to enjoy every kiss, every touch, every caress. He takes his time peeling away my clothes, all the while showering my body with a tenderness the likes of which it has never seen. By the time he rolls the condom on, I’m so incredibly wet, I can feel my arousal dripping out of me.
He slips inside of me with ease, his eyes locked with mine. When he’s fully seated, he pauses for a moment, pressing a light kiss against my lips. He pulls out slowly and returns in the same fashion. Then, his lips still grazing mine—
“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.”
As he sings to me—my song—our song—I understand that this was inevitable, him and me. He knew it all along. Just one night was never going to be enough. It was never going to be our story. It was never going to be our song. He’s been fighting for me this whole time. Now, whether I’m ready or not, I surrender.
“You’re mine,” he groans as he rolls his hips against mine. “Say it, baby.”
“I’m yours,” I breathe, feeling my way down his chest and then up again; gripping onto his shoulders as the slow burn within me intensifies.
“Damn straight. And I’m yours, doll face.”
“You’re mine,” I echo.
A knowing smirk tugs at his lips and I arch my back, pressing my chest against his. I want to feel every bit of him. My man. My dreamer. My chaser. He kisses me, sweeping his tongue through my mouth as he tastes me. He rides me nice and slow until we’re both panting, calling out each other’s names. We come together and it’s positively euphoric. I cling to him, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms as my body begins to relax. When I fall asleep, he’s still inside of me, and it feels like we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.
HER ALARM CLOCK sounds and a groan rumbles from my chest—only, it’s not my voice that vibrates across my skin. I don’t open my eyes to look at her. I don’t need to. I just feel her—the sexy ass woman whose leg is hooked over mine, her arm slung around me as she uses my chest as her pillow.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit,” she whines. I chuckle lazily, flinging my arm out to blindly reach for the alarm. I silence it, but she continues to whine. “I can’t move. Shit.”
“Go back to sleep, baby,” I murmur, pressing my lips against her forehead.
“I can’t. I have work.”
I peek open one eye and look down at her. Both of her eyes are still closed. I know she’s exhausted, because I am too. We got less than three hours of sleep. I know my girl—she needs a whole lot more rest than that to function, especially after a night with me. “Call in.”
“I shouldn’t,” she mutters, snuggling closer to me.
God, she feels amazing.
“Millie, it’s Friday. Call in. Have you ever called in before?” Something tells me the goody-two-shoes hasn’t. Her silence makes me grin. “Bet your students would love to find out class was canceled today.” She grunts but doesn’t move. I can’t tell if I’ve convinced her or not, so I try a different tactic. “Stay in bed with me, Millicent. Don’t make me get up. Don’t make me let you go. I’m not ready.”
When she whimpers and pulls away from me, I frown at her. She notices and brushes her lips against mine in an act that can barely be called a kiss. “I’ll be right back.” I watch as she crawls out of bed, picking up my t-shirt from the floor before she leaves the r
oom. She comes back a moment later, her fingers busy as she types something out on her phone. She’s still going when she sits beside me, propping herself up against the headboard.
“What are you doing?”
“Posting an announcement through Blackboard to each of my classes. They might be getting a little break from me today, but I still need them to study.”
“Does this mean you’re spending the day in bed with me?” I ask with a smirk, skimming my fingers up the length of her leg. She doesn’t answer me at first, too distracted with her task; so I slide my hand up the inside of her thigh.
She gasps and then bats my hand away, finally setting down her phone. “Sleep, Sage. I need to go back to sleep.”
I laugh, gripping hold of her leg once more before yanking her down and onto her back. I kiss her and then reach for the hem of my shirt. When she protests, I kiss her again. “Need you naked, baby doll.” Her eyes lock with mine as she lifts her arms, allowing me to strip her bare. I toss the shirt back onto the floor and then guide her onto her side, pulling her back against my front. I cup her tit in my hand and bury my nose in her neck as I close my eyes. “Fuck you when we wake up.”
“Mmmm,” she hums dreamily, sleep already pulling her under. “Is that a promise?”
“You bet your sweet, little ass.”
WE SLEEP THROUGH the morning. I wake up half past noon, but I don’t wake her. She looks so peaceful and content—more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. I remember her face when she opened the door to me early this morning. It about brought me to my knees. Seeing her so broken and exhausted was gut wrenching. Now, the bags under her eyes have faded and the color in her cheeks has returned. She’s beautiful. She’s gorgeous. She’s mine.
I watch her sleep for a half an hour. I know that might make me sound like a total creeper, but I could give a fuck. I just don’t want to take my eyes off of her. When she wakes up and smiles at me, all I want to do is kiss her. She returns my affection only until my hands start to wander, then she pushes me away.
Worthy of the Harmony (Mountains & Men Book 2) Page 11