Worthy of the Harmony (Mountains & Men Book 2) (31 page)

Today, after spending my afternoon in Sage’s arms—in the embrace of a man who has done nothing but try to convince me that I belong with him—I know for certain that I do not belong to Natalya Valentine. It’s not even
her name
that I carry.

“Tatiana, I—”

“For the love of god! Millicent. I go by Millicent, mother.”

“You disrespectful little brat. How
dare
you utter that name to me.”

“It’s who I am! For fuck sake—would you just let it go? It’s been twenty years. How is it possible that you can’t even hear my name without freaking out? Millicent. Just say it.
Millicent!
”

“Shut your mouth!” she yells. “I have had
enough
. You disrespect me. Your own mother. I brought you into this damn world. I sacrificed everything for you, and this is how you treat me? And all because of some boy who will break you—snapping you in half like the twig you are. You know nothing of this life. You know nothing of the hardship of sacrifice. You know nothing of the price of love. You refuse to see that it is not worth it.”

“Bullshit!” I cry, standing to my feet. “Don’t talk to me about sacrifice, as if I never had to give anything up to accommodate you. I sacrificed most of my childhood accommodating you—doing whatever it was that I had to do so that we could live in some type of
order
. You put all of that responsibility on me when you decided that the entire fucking world was against you, and your only response was going to be to
give up
and succumb to your bitterness.”

“You ungrateful little bitch!”

I cough out a laugh, my only remaining defense against my tears. I know she can’t see me when I shake my head at her, but I do it anyway. “If it helps you sleep at night, keep telling yourself that. But I can’t do this anymore, mother. I can’t—”

“Tati, you listen to—”

“Mother, I’m—”

“No! This time you will not hang up on me, I will hang up on you. I am the one who is done. You think your life will be so much better without me in it? You will see how wrong you are, you naive little girl. I am washing my hands of you. Soon, you will know what it’s like to be in this world all alone. Then, I will not be here to pick up the pieces of your remains.”

I huff out a harsh breath, appalled by her speech. “Fine!” I cry, calling her bluff. I’m all the woman has and we both know it.

“Fine.”

The line goes dead and I gasp, pulling my phone away from my ear to look at the display.

She wasn’t bluffing.

Immediately, my thumb hovers over her name, poised and ready to get her back on the line—but I pause, allowing myself a moment to wrap my head around what’s just happened. I sink back down onto the porch step and take a breath.

We’re done
.

Just like that, my mother and I are…
over
.

A part of me feels like I should be elated. I’m finally free. The woman I ran from, the woman I’ve hardly tolerated for all of my adult life, she’s severed ties with me. And yet, I don’t feel an ounce of happiness. Neither do I feel sad. Instead, I feel nothing. Nothing at all.

“Millie? You okay?”

The sound of Sage’s voice breaks me out of my trance. I don’t turn to look back at him, taking a second to try and answer his question. When he comes and sits next to me, placing his hand on the small of my back, a sense of relief washes over me.

“Yeah,” I answer honestly. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“Was that your mom?”

I nod, seeking out his gaze. Looking through his glasses and into his eyes, I think back on our afternoon and how much we shared with each other. He trusted me, showed me an old scar, and I did the same. Now, I don’t want to keep this from him either.

“I think we just…” I pause, trying to find the right words. “Broke up with each other.”

He lifts an eyebrow at me, showcasing his confusion. “You
broke up
with your mom?”

“Yes.”

He studies me for a moment before he hesitantly asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” I sigh, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Okay. Well, what do you need, baby doll?”

“Nothing.” I wrap my arms around him, burying my face in his neck. I brush a kiss against his warm skin and suddenly I know that my answer is a lie. “You,” I whisper, kissing him once more. “I just need you.”

I turn my head as he dips his chin, and when our lips meet, a rush of happiness spreads from my head to my toes. I reach up and cup my hand around his cheek, expressing my desire to keep him close. My hunger for him is made evident in our ongoing kiss, and when he traces his tongue around the inside of my lips, I can feel my arousal making itself known between my legs as my panties grow damp. When I moan, he kisses me harder. Then, without warning, he pulls away abruptly. I open my mouth to question him, but he speaks before I can.

“If we don’t stop, I’ll take you upstairs and we won’t be back down for the rest of the night. Let’s eat first. I’m hungry, and you must be, too. You hardly touched your lunch.”

I’ll admit, I’m a little disappointed that he’s making me wait, but he’s right. “Sustenance,” I mumble.

“You got it, doll,” he says with a grin and a chuckle. “We’re going to need it.”

He presses a quick kiss against my lips before he calls for Maestro and stands to his feet. He offers me his hand and helps me up, holding onto me as we make our way inside, Maestro on our heels. We eat and drink with the others, talking over the movie that’s playing. Everyone is still pretty excited about their time in the studio and the news of their next big show.

When an hour passes, I realize that my impatience from before has been kept at bay. I may be an outsider when it comes to their world of music, but so long as we are in this house—a place that grows more and more familiar every day—I feel as though I can at least pretend to be one of them. Nevertheless, when Sage leans toward me and gently nibbles on my earlobe, my desire to abandon their company is overwhelming.

“I think it’s time for us to get naked,” Sage whispers. “Feel like kissing every inch of my girl.”

I shiver at the thought and he laughs softly as he gets up and reaches for my hand. I oblige, clinging to him as he leads me out of the room and up the stairs. Neither of us say a word to the others, but they don’t seem to mind. They let us go without a bit of protest, for which I am grateful. The promise of his lips all over my body makes me ache with longing.

He shuts us into his room and lets go of my hand before leaning back against the door. “Strip, doll face. Then let your hair down and lay on the bed.”

I back away from him, inching my way closer to the bed, my gaze locked with his as he stands perfectly still. His eyes rake over me and, even fully clothed, just his gaze makes my neck warm and my stomach flutter. Slowly, I shrug my way out of my sweater, letting it fall to the floor. My shirt goes next, then my jeans, my bra, and finally my panties. When I let my hair down, running my fingers through it as it falls down my back—messy as hell, I’m sure—I watch as he reaches down to adjust himself in his jeans. Knowing he’s hard for me already makes my skin break out in goose bumps.

Obediently, I stretch out on his bed and then I run my hands down my bare body—desperate for
touch
as I wait for him.

“Play with your clit, baby. I want to see you touch yourself.”

I don’t even hesitate before I bend my knees and spread my legs, reaching down to do as he says. Across the room, he still sets me on fire, and I’m dripping wet in seconds. He watches me as he strips himself bare. When his cock springs free—long, thick, and fully erect—I slide two fingers inside of me, aching for him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, reaching for himself.

With my freehand, I grab my breast and pinch my nipple. I’m so turned on, watching him stroke himself, I can hardly stand it. “Sage,” I whimper, spreading my legs wider, working my pussy harder.

“Fuck yes—fuck that gorgeous cunt. Make yourself come, Millicent.”

I moan, the sound of my name passing from his lips and the feel of my hands on and in my body beckoning me closer to my release. He takes a step toward me, then another, and another, and I want to touch him so badly.

“
Sage…
”

“You like what you see, baby doll? Does it turn you on to see me stroke my dick?” I nod, a pathetic sound freeing itself from my throat. “Are you thinking about how good I can make you feel with this dick? Are you pretending your fingers are me?”

“Oh, god,” I mewl, suddenly needing more. I push three fingers inside of me, soaking them in my arousal. The slick sound of me fucking myself should be enough to leave me embarrassed, but I don’t give a single shit—I want him to know how hot he makes me.

“Who owns your orgasm, baby?”

“You,” I breathe. “Always, you.”

“Then come for me.”

I want nothing more
.

I side my hand away from my breast and down my body, rubbing my clit as I continue to pump my fingers in and out of me. My eyes never leave his. When he licks his lip and then pulls it between his teeth, I lose it.

“Oh, fuck, Sage—baby!” I throw my head back as my orgasm hits me. I’ve never made myself come so hard in my life, proving his statement true—
Sage McCoy owns my orgasm, every damn time
.

My eyes fly open when he grips my wrist and lifts my fingers to his mouth. He sucks them hard, making my own mouth water. I manage to scramble onto my knees, my arm still in his grasp as I swallow his cock. He grunts, bucking his hips as he tangles his fingers in my hair, gripping the strands so tightly it burns. For a moment, we both suck. Then, when I swirl my tongue around his head, he groans and frees my hand, burying the rest of his fingers in my hair. I grab his ass and squeeze, sealing my eyes shut as I try and take him deeper. He gasps and then pulls his cock free.

With his fingers still twisted in my hair, he yanks my head back. My neck arches as I look up at him, and then he crashes his lips against mine. We moan together when our tongues meet and I lift up on my knees, longing to be closer to him.

“Need your pussy, Millie,” he mumbles against my lips.

“It’s yours,” I whisper.

He pulls away from me, tossing his glasses on the nightstand before reaching into the drawer for a condom. I lay back, anxious to have him on top of me—inside of me—owning me. He rips the package open with his teeth, sheathing himself quickly before crawling in between my legs. He sinks into me with ease, staring down at me as he takes his time. When he’s all the way in, he holds still for just a moment, kissing me tenderly.

“You’re my best girl, Millicent,” he whispers, pulling out slowly. “You’re my best girl.”

He rolls his hips, plunging back in, and I mewl. He feels so fucking good. Every time. He fills me up like no one ever has before and I’m sure no one else will ever compare. My mother swears that love isn’t worth the trouble, but right here—right now—as he takes me slowly, gently, adoringly, I know that she is wrong. Sage is worth it. He’s worth everything.

We take our time. My enjoyment seems to last for hours and I soak up every bit of it—every bit of him. He kisses me over and over again, whispering to me, singing to me, pleasuring me like only he can. When we come, we come together; and as we descend from our first euphoric high of the night, all I want is to be wrapped up in his strong arms—my safe place.

He rolls us over, his cock still buried deep, and holds me against his chest. For the first time in my life, I wonder if this is what
home
feels like.

L
OOKING DOWN AT
the beautiful girl in my arms, I wonder what she’ll be like after the six weeks that I’ll be away. Babies change constantly. She’s almost three months now, and looking more and more like her mother every day.

“Uncle Sage! Watch this,” says Henley from across the kitchen table. He tosses a pea and tries to catch it in his mouth. He misses, sending the vegetable onto the floor.

“Henley, I don’t think so, bud,” says Harry from the head of the table. He shakes his head at his son, fixing him with a stern look. “We do not throw our food, do you understand?”