Everything I Want

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Everything I Want Page 11

by Natalie Barnes


  “You know it! I really don’t care about the music at all. I just love being a cocktease.”

  He stops dead in his tracks, and I hear Caleb burst out laughing. I give Tristan a little devilish smirk and wink. I push past him, making my way to the stage. But damn it! When I pushed passed him, touching his hard arm sent the chills running through me again and followed by intense heat. Damn it! It backfired. But he doesn’t know that. He’s still standing there, glaring at me with nothing coming out of that cocky mouth of his. Good.

  The stage is dark, and the crowd is chanting. The people are clapping their hands together, ready for the show. I know we’re not big yet, but I can’t help but think that they are here waiting for us and not Undead Society. I walk up to the mic and grab it off the stand. Tristan and Caleb are now standing next to Lux. He hadn’t been in that same spot since our Vegas show. Even though Tristan can’t see me, I smile at him and flip him off. I turn back to face the crowd, and the purple lights illuminate the stage.

  “How’s it going, Detroit?!” I yell into the mic. The audience is getting even louder now. “Before Undead Society graces you guys with their presence, we would like to do the honor of jamming for you guys.” I gesture my hands toward my band, and Roger does a little double bass rift, getting them going more. “I would like to introduce ourselves. We are Dollar Settlement! And this feels so fucking good having the honor to play in Detroit tonight.” Screams are now starting to pierce through the arena. I laugh a little into the mic, walking closer to the end of the stage. “You see, we are all from this great state, and being back home to play for all of you’s is surely going to be one of the best fucking shows I think we will ever do.” Clapping is starting to get in sync now, and it’s pretty wild in here. I haven’t felt a vibe like this at any of our past shows so far on tour. My cheekbones are getting a little sore from my huge grin. Even my eyes feel a little moistened. “This is called ‘Damage.’”

  Cory starts shredding the beginning of one of our old songs from back in the day. It’s personally one of my favorites. Roger kicks in with double bass followed by Matt and Jared. I hold the mic tightly to my lips, humming softly into it, singing softly at first then going deeper the further the song progresses. When the chorus comes up, I jump on top of one of the smaller sound boxes on the front of the stage. It’s something that I’ve always wanted to do but never could because I was always in heels. Leaning over the audience and running my fingers through my hair, I began to wail into the mic. And they fucking love it. The energy tonight is phenomenal.

  After our entire set is over, I don’t want it to end. These people are simply amazing. I walk my mic back to the stand and place the mic on it. Leaning down into the mic, I say, “Thanks for giving us an awesome time tonight. You guys are the fucking best!” They start cheering and chanting for more, but we already went through all of our material. Hmm . . . Maybe I have one more trick up my sleeve. I don’t even care right now what Tristan or Lux or even the roadies think. I jog over to Cory and whisper in his ear my little plan. He smiles and nods and walks over to Roger. I let Matt know my plan, too, and Jared soon follows suit. I walk back over to the mic, and the roadies are waving for us to exit so they can get Undead set up. I gesture one minute with my finger and begin to speak into the mic. The audience is still chanting “more.”

  “Okay, okay. We will do one more, but we cannot take credit for this next song. You see, it’s not ours. But it’s done by one of my favorite bands. It’s a newer one, too, so some of you’s may have heard it. So here it goes. ‘Scarlet’ by In This Moment.” Jared starts strumming on the guitar then Cory comes in playing. Keeping the microphone on the stand, I hold it with one hand and close my eyes and begin to sing. I use my other hand to rub softly up and down my upper body. Roger begins playing now with Matt, and I start swaying softly. Using two hands now, I start gripping the mic tightly and singing harder as we lead into the chorus and tilting my head back when we get there. Now looking back at the crowd, I begin to start pointing toward them with both hands; then facing my hands palms up, I raise them high in the air. I sing with all of the power that I have left in me. When the final chorus comes on, Cory walks over to me and begins his solo. As I turn to face him, I arch my back, singing so forcefully on these final notes.

  As soon as the song finishes, I bow before them. Everyone in the entire audience is whistling, cheering, and clapping. I press my hand to my lips and blow them a kiss as we start to walk offstage. The lights go out, and the entire arena is pitch-black for only a moment. The giant screens starts playing Undead Society footage while the roadies do their work.

  When I walk off the stage, Tristan is just standing there with his arms slumped to his sides and his eyes wide almost as if he were in shock. His lips slightly parted, breathing deeply. He looks so lost right now.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wow. It’s either he’s really pissed that we took some of his time up, or because I fucking rocked it. I was hoping for the second, but knowing him, it was probably the first. Lux suddenly stands in front of me. “I don’t know what you were thinking.” He grabs both sides of my face and kisses me hard on my forehead. He pushes himself away and walks over to one of the crew members again just grinning.

  As the guys from Undead start passing us to make their way onstage, they all pat my shoulders and congratulate me. Tristan is the last one to walk by. And this time, the look in his eyes got me hypnotized. I cannot move, and my body begins to cool down immediately in certain areas. But the look he’s giving me right now also begins to heat my body up in other areas. There is no hate in his eyes, no glares, or looks of disgust; but maybe confusion or even pain. After he passes me, I feel like I may just lose my balance. The high from my performance and the audience then the instant crashing with Tristan’s gaze . . . Fucking eh.

  I know I’m supposed to go right back to the hotel for Frankie to start his thing, but I can’t seem to pull myself away from Tristan right now. I turn around to watch them start. Tristan grabs the mic quickly. His hand is so big that it swallows the entire thing. He’s breathing hard into it; then he begins to speak. “How’s everyone tonight?” His band starts playing behind him, and lights start flashing throughout. The audience answers him back with screams and roars. They’re going absolutely insane, but in a very damn good way. He starts singing—well, screaming—into the mic. That’s the thing with him; we both kind of have the same singing style. I call them “pretty” and “screaming.” And he knows how to work both.

  97 Eventually, I have to pull myself away after the third song. As I start backing up to leave, Tristan’s gaze turns and locks into mine; and once again, I cannot move. His singing is so intense right now that I feel like I may just lose it right here right now and combust. Once he faces the crowd again, I know it’s my only chance to be able to leave. I say goodbye to the guys and Lux and tell them I have to get ready and that I will meet them at the party.

  “Don’t get lost.” Lux smiles to me. I know he’s joking because the party is in the same freaking building.

  “Oh, I won’t,” I reply back then I’m off.

  Frankie is finishing up on my hair. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, nursing a beer, while he rings the curling iron through my hair. The makeup was easier for him. He cleaned up my face a bit and did touchups on my foundation. The good thing about that is I have good skin that doesn’t require a lot of work. Earlier tonight, I had on heavy dark gray eye shadow; but it weakened with my performance. So Frankie used a brush to remove some of the excess and touched up with a little darker nude coloring on my brow bone. And my lips are just wearing sheer nude gloss. Most of the work was on my hair that he made a little fuller than the flatter look earlier tonight. With my hair being naturally thicker, it was easy to achieve.

  “Voila!” He kisses his thumb and first two fingers like a chef in a restaurant would. “Cinderella is ready for the motherfucking ball.” He snaps his fingers. I start giggling at him. He’s so funny.
I stand slowly, getting comfortable in the shoes. Surprisingly, they don’t hurt my feet as bad as I thought they were going to. But the dress . . . It is very beautiful but, like I’ve seen on the hanger and in Frankie’s hands, very short. It rides until about ten inches above my knees. One of the comforting things is that it hugs me, so I don’t feel like it’s riding up or going anywhere.

  “Hold on, Cinderella. I have to pin your hair up on the left side.”

  I stop and he moves his way in front of me. Even with these heels on, Frankie is still just a tad taller than me.

  “I want it out of your face on the one side and cascading over to the other side. Very old school pin up. And very mysterious.” He winks at me as his fingers busy themselves quickly in my hair. “I just love your fucking hair so much. Gawd! And your fucking body, for that matter. I mean, your skin is flaw-less. Did I ever mention that I want to skin you and wear you?” We both start laughing.

  “I think you mentioned that once before. Yeah.” He grabs my shoulders and turns me to the mirror, and my mouth drops open. With the full waves in my hair and it being pinned up on the one side, Frankie was right about looking like some pin-up model.

  “I love it!” I say to him. Turning around, I give him a hug. “Well, I better get down there,” As I make my way through the room.

  “I will be down in a bit. I have to put my suit on.”

  “Okay. But please don’t be long. I don’t want to be hanging around by myself,” I say desperately to him.

  “Oh, honey, you won’t be by yourself for too long. Trust me.” And with that, I leave the room.

  Approaching the ballroom that Lux reserved for us tonight, I already notice a lot of stares. It’s kind of making me feel a little self-conscious. I should have had a stronger drink than just a beer before coming down here. As I push through the doors, the next song instantly starts playing. Talk about perfect timing. I laugh to myself. It’s the Cardigans’ “Erase and Rewind.” I begin to feel a little paranoid. People, men, and women—when they turn real quick to see who came in—stop suddenly and stare at me. Okay . . . Now I’m shitting myself inside. My cheeks feel like they should be red right now, but with my tanned skin, they cannot tell.

  I take a quick glance to find the bar and notice it just off my right. Thank God! Sitting at the table right in front of me though is Tristan, and he’s staring just like the others were. But he’s still staring. I couldn’t help but stare back for a moment. He looks devastatingly handsome. He’s wearing a dark suit with no tie and the first few buttons undone, showing off his collarbone and skin so fucking good. His hair is pushed back from his face and falling to the sides. Someone taps my shoulder, pulling me out of my Tristan trance. It’s Lux.

  “Would you like some champagne?’ he asks, holding a flute in his hands.

  “Yes, thank you.” I smile at him and he smiles back to me. I take the drink from him and press the flute to my lips, sipping it slowly. It tastes sweet but not too sweet. I never really drank the stuff before; just some cheap shit a long time ago, and it was horrible. This, here, this is actually very good. Maybe I will just stick to this for the night.

  The ballroom Lux reserved for us tonight looks amazing. It’s red and black everything: red linens, red flowers, and red lights casting their glow throughout the room. The crystal chandelier reflects thousands of rainbow lights over the place, too. It looks like an upscale gothic wedding is being held here. I’m relieved that Frankie gave me this dress now, and to my surprise, everyone is in the exact same attire. Well, Roger is not but that’s okay. He did take the time to clean up bit though. After talking with Lux for a few more minutes, Cory walks over to me with another drink in hand. Unless he’s drinking both, which actually wouldn’t surprise me at all. He hands it to me and smiles, showing off his beautiful facial features. Damn. He looks like he could be Eminem’s impersonator.

  “That was fucking epic tonight!” he says to me.

  “I know right. I couldn’t believe it. Everything was so amazing!”

  As we continued talking, my body started to feel the familiar reaction it does when Tristan is close by or staring. I peek over Cory’s shoulder; and Tristan is by the bar now with a drink in his hand, watching me. And I begin to feel myself getting slightly turned on by it. Wait! What am I thinking! I cannot have these feelings for him like this. I must say Tristan Scott, is one of the biggest assholes I have ever met. But then, the look on his face and in his eyes after our performance tonight makes me think and feel otherwise.

  I slam the rest of my drink to try to forget about what I was just thinking.

  “Alright!” Cory exclaims, “want another one?”

  I nod to him, handing him my empty glass. Cory waves down a waiter and grabs one off the trays and hands it to me.

  “Thanks.”

  This has to be stronger stuff because it’s only my third, and I’m feeling a little lightheaded. Or maybe it’s because I drank two already within half an hour. Oh, well! I’m celebrating! Roger and Jared walk up to us now. Roger has his arm around some woman. She looks decent, but I get the vibe of “groupie with class” coming off of her. We exchanged a few words before they continued their way to the bar. I decide it’s time to start mingling.

  An hour and four more drinks later, I’m feeling pretty good. Every time I realize Tristan was nearby or staring, I would get another drink and walk away. He is just making me so uncomfortable tonight, and I can’t put my finger on it exactly. Maybe I do need him to say hateful things. When he’s quiet or nice, it throws me off.

  I’m good and drunk now and decide it was time for me to make my way to the nearest restroom to relieve myself, making sure to walk very carefully so I wouldn’t trip. I push the door open out to the hall. The bright lights instantly blind me, and I use my one hand to shield my eyes a bit. Damn heels. I can feel my legs wobbling a bit in them, trying to keep balance. That’s it! When I get back in there, I will order one more drink and sit before calling it a night.

  Walking on the carpet is almost like going through an obstacle course: carpet, heels, drunk. Fuck me! Not good. I finally see the doors to the restrooms, and I begin moving a little faster. Yes!

  After I’m done fulfilling my needs, I wash my hands in the sink and peer up into the mirror. I still look great but just a little flushed. It must be from the booze. Or Tristan. I thought to myself. No! Not him. I’m drunk, and my drunk thoughts and hormones are running away with me again. Damn it!

  After I finish in there, I walk back out into the hall again, but suddenly, I feel a strong hand grip my shoulder firmly—but not enough to leave a bruise—and push me through the corridors, leading to the elevators. The wind is almost knocked out of me when my back hits the cool, smooth wall. What the fuck?

  I was getting ready to open my mouth to scream when all of a sudden Tristan’s mouth comes crashing down on mine, his tongue instantly invading my mouth. His hard body pushes mine up against the wall, trapping me in. He rests each of his arms beside my head; then with one hand cupping my face, he tilts my head up to give him better access to my mouth. I know I should stop this right now, but I can’t! He tastes so good. The salt on his lips and the whiskey on his breath are intoxicating me even more than I already am. He’s breathing heavy, too, feeling his chest crash up and down on mine. My nipples soon become hard, rubbing against the delicate, smooth fabric of my dress. I begin to feel something ignite inside my core. Tristan’s other hand starts rubbing up and down the silky material on my side, gripping me tightly at my waist. Something in my head screams at me to stop doing this, so on instinct, I react. Using my free hands that were gripping his shoulders, I place them on his hard chest and try to push him off of me. I quickly pull my swollen lips from his.

  He licks his lips slowly, shaking his head no. Trying to catch his breath, he threatens, “No, Sophia.” He crashes his mouth down onto mine again. I take him in only for a moment before breaking our kiss again. He looks angry now and pulls my hair tight with one of
his hands, using his pelvis to pin me tighter against the wall.

  “Fucking stop, Tristan!” I say to him in a loud whisper.

  “No.”

  Using his other hand now, he begins to caress my full breasts with only the sheer, thin layer of silk separating his hand from them. I try to wiggle my way free from him, but all I end up doing is turning myself on even more. While I’m moving against him, I can feel how hard he is for me, pushing on my stomach. He grips my hair tighter, causing pain to my scalp, and forces me to look at him. His jaw clenches, and he moves his face only an inch away from mine. His other hand is fondling my breast tenderly. He starts slowly moving his hand down my stomach, feeling every inch of me.

  “You fucking want this Sophia. I know you do.”

  I’m forced to stare into his eyes. He is truly the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. With my hands still firmly pushed against his broad chest, I start shaking my head. Well, I try to. Being restrained from his grip has my head pretty tight in place.

  “No! No, Tristan. I don’t.”

  He does this sexy half smirk at me.

  “Yes, you do,” he says low, almost growling.

  “Fuck off, Tristan! Let me go.”

  I can’t even think straight right now. I’m so turned on; but I know, deep down, that this isn’t right. Just then, Tristan’s hand moves from my stomach and starts gently rubbing my inner thigh while his other hand still has its hold in my hair, forcing me to look at him. His hand on my thigh starts moving its way up higher, bunching up my dress as he makes his way, going where I think he’s going.

  “You want this. You want this just as bad as I do, Sophia,” he growls. His hand is now on me, just outside my panties, rubbing softly. He’s grinning at me now, and all of a sudden, I hate it.

  “Fuck you!”

  I try to sound forceful, but it almost sounded like a plea. He moves the side of my panties with his forceful fingers, pushing them out of his way, and begins to rub up and down the length of me. He’s feeling me and how much he is turning me on. And it feels so fucking good. Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out and moves back a little, still holding my head in place to keep me still. He puts his fingers in his mouth and swirls his tongue around them slowly. I want to look away at such a wanton action happening right in front of me, but he won’t let me. His groans when he tastes me on his fingers are going to make me break.

 

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