Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3)

by Natalie Barnes

  She glances up at me and grins.

  “Aw…do you wish you could be good and buzzed?”

  My index finger gently flicks her nose. She scrunches up her face at the contact. Brushing my hand away, she shakes her head.

  “Nah, I don’t miss hangovers.”

  Her smile widens. I smile back, knowing she actually feels good right now. When we came back from Europe, it was only a short while before I noticed her getting livelier and actually wanting to eat again.

  By the time we arrive at the venue, it’s dark. Sophia’s leg trembles against mine.

  “You all right?” I lean over and ask.

  “I’m good,” she nods.

  No, she’s not, fucking woman. Her knee won’t stop bouncing. I roll my own fucking eyes at her as the driver puts the vehicle in park and jumps out. Sophia glances at her phone. The glow reflects off her face when she picks it up, her eyes scanning across the screen.

  “They’re in,” she says before handing it to me.

  She didn’t want to bring a purse or anything, and since I’m just wearing a black button down shirt and some jeans, I slide her phone into my front pocket along with mine. Her eyes watch my every movement. Fuck, my dirty girl. I just fed her before she got ready, but judging by how her eyes scan up my body, she wants more.

  I give her that fucking smirk that tickles her clit and her body jumps when the driver opens her door. Her sapphire eyes narrow at me as she grins, pressing her thighs together before twisting around to get out. I climb out and walk around the back, giving her my hand when her beautiful leg extends from the vehicle.

  “It’s okay, you know,” I say down to her. “You already know that your band has it.”

  She hooks her small arm through mine as I lead her up to the doors. Of course some paps are here, but it's mainly magazines and stations. Metal awards don’t get as much hype as would the fucking Grammy’s or something. But as I glance over Sophia’s head, I’m fucking proud of the crowd I see.

  Butcher Babies’ Monster’s Ball jams as we head in. Sophia stops and her mouth drops, her tiny hand squeezing the inside of my elbow. I look down at her shocked face before trying to scan the room to see what she’s freaking about. After looking at a bunch of faces, I see some people talking in groups while others find their seats at the tables or aisles right away.

  “What?”

  “Fucking Corey Taylor,” she breathes.

  What the…? Looking back up, I watch my girl fucking drool over him. Fuck that. This kind of thing is still new for her. Yeah, she told me she met some bands here and there these last couple years, but tonight I watch her light up like a fucking Christmas tree.

  “Oh, God. Look,” she mumbles into my chest as I have my arm wrapped back around her.

  I don’t know where the fuck I’m supposed to look, but I’m guessing it’s probably someone else she’s freaking over.

  “Yo!”

  Roger stands, signaling with his hand. Sophia looks up at me before she walks out from underneath my arm and heads over to him. The thing I like about these kinds of awards is, it doesn’t matter how you dress. Either fucking smoking like my girl, or everyday clothes like… Roger.

  “Tristan,” he grins at me before pulling me into a bear hug when I walk up to the table.

  Fuck. He slaps my back before going back to his chair.

  “I didn’t even know anything about us being nominees ’til Lux said something last week, sneaky fucker,” he yells over the noise.

  Sophia is taking with Jared and Jeff who are both sitting. When she leans between them, I get a shot of her cleavage. Fuck. My eyes widen. They’re all just going on laughing about something and I’m obviously not giving a shit what Roger is saying.

  “You guys heading home then, hey?”

  Roger tips his chin up at me, holding his glass mid-air. This place has pretty decent space inside. It’s almost dark when you walk in, but the closer you get to the stage and near the bars, a red glow illuminates the space. The color bounces off of Sophia’s cheekbones when she smiles. It’s so fucking cool that they get this. I’ve been around over a decade now, and I’ve seen my share of shit, but if any band deserves this tonight, it’s definitely them.

  I guess I might as well grab a seat, since this is probably where we’re gonna be staying. Gripping the steel back of the chair, I pull back as far from the table as I can for my knees not to hit. Sophia notices me sitting there and comes back around the table, fucking glowing as she walks up to me with an excited smile.

  “This is so fucking crazy!” she leans over and whispers in my ear, her small hands resting on my chest.

  She glances over her shoulder and slowly takes a seat. I hurry and straighten up so I can lean over the side and grip the back of her chair so it doesn’t slip.

  “I’m gonna get a drink. You want something?”

  I bend closer to her so she can hear me better. Her tongue peeks out and glides across her lips.

  “Cranberry juice.”

  Should’ve known. That’s all she wants to drink lately. Gripping her chin with my thumb and forefinger, I give her a kiss as I stand up. When I open my eyes, hers are still closed as shadows of light flicker across her face. Letting her chin go, I head up to the bar that’s closest to me, which is on the left by the main doors. I could have just waited for someone to come to the table, but I don’t care. It gives me something to fucking do, I guess.

  The steel bar top seems like it fucking goes on forever as it covers almost the entire wall, splitting off into different levels in a couple spots. Barely clad chicks and dudes just hang around.

  “What you having, man?” a younger looking guy asks as he leans over the bar.

  His forearms sport a couple of tats. Scanning the illuminated shelf behind him, I order.

  “Cranberry with ice and a,” something catches my eye that sits on the shelf, “I guess I’ll have a Bombay and tonic.”

  I order one of my girl’s favorites. I remember the way her mouth used to taste after she would drink.

  Leaning against the bar top, I look back out at the space as it fills with more people. Staring back out at Sophia, my grin deepens when I see her trying not to be obvious when one of the bands she listens to walks by. Her lips tip up in a fucking breathtaking smile. I don’t even realize at first that the bartender slides my drinks over. I can’t fucking stop staring at her.

  Turning my back, I roll each sleeve and slide it up my arms. With a drink in each hand, I turn around to head back and see some chick talking to Sophia. The closer I get back to the table, the more I try to make out who it is. Fuck if I know. Just some random blonde with fake tits and a tight dress. She’s probably with Matt because she stands between him and Sophia as they sit.

  What the fuck?

  By the time I get to the table, my girl doesn’t even notice me; her hands are sprawled out over her growing belly, her blue eyes slicing the other bitch with a glare. Bending over her, I kiss the top of her head and set her drink on the table. Glancing up, I see that chick staring at me with a fucking smirk on her face.

  “Thanks, baby.”

  Sophia turns around in her chair so that she’s facing me. I know that bitch isn’t still staring at us? What the fuck is she doing just standing here, anyway?

  “You all right?”

  My eyebrow rises slightly when I study her face. Sophia drops her eyes, her lashes fluttering against her cheekbones. She lets out a huff and rolls her eyes to herself before looking back up at me.

  “I shouldn’t have worn this.”

  For fucks sake!

  “Sophia…” I lean over so that I’m an inch away from her face, breathing down on her. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

  Her face lights up with a hint of a smile, her eyes softening.

  “Sorry. It’s just that stupid whore-”

  “Um, excuse me?” An annoying, high-pitched voice squeaks behind Sophia.

  That chick didn’t leave. Glancing up at her, I gr
in as I watch her face scrunching up as she looks down at my girl. A half smile dawns on Sophia’s full lips.

  “Baby, will you?”

  She reaches her hand out for me to grab. What? She actually wants me to help her? Taking hold of hers, she places her other hand on the steel table top and stands up.

  Sophia turns around fucking gracefully in those heels, her hands resting loosely on her hips. Tilting her head to off to the side slightly, she fucking laughs in that dumb bitch’s face.

  Roger slaps my arm. I look over at him leaning in on his folded arms, laughing.

  “Sophia’s all hormonal and shit,” he says, laughing even harder, then leaning back on his arms. “She’s gonna tear that chick apart.”

  Jared and Jeff grin at the display. Whoever she is, she is trying to point at Sophia, but my girl calmly raises her hand in front of her, stopping that bitch’s finger.

  “Don’t,” she warns, but with a tinge of laughter in her voice.

  “You have no right calling me a whore!”

  “You’re right,” Sophia nods, then goes on. “The proper term that I should’ve used was a retarded bitch.”

  Fuck. Roger busts up laughing as the other guys try to hide their grins but do a shitty job of it.

  The chick’s eyes widen.

  “What the fuck did you-?”

  Sophia cuts her off.

  “You’re a retarded bitch, because, clearly, I’m fucking pregnant,” Sophia waves her hand over her belly, “and you had the fucking nerve to traipse over here and insult me about how I’m fucking dressed.”

  Sophia folds her arms over her chest; fuck, that chest.... popping her hip out. The blonde pushes her hands out defensively, obviously trying to heat Sophia up.

  “Calm down! I just said that I wouldn’t be wearing something that tight if I was gaining weight.”

  Sophia throws her head back as she laughs hard right in that chick’s face.

  “Get the fuck out of here. You’re too fucking stupid to waste my time,” she says, shaking her head.

  Sophia steps closer, raising her hand an inch away from that chick’s face. Holy fuck. I watch closely just in case that bitch really is dumb and tries to do something to my girl. I can’t hit a woman, but I can push her ass back, though.

  Her eyes glare at Sophia, who steps to her again. Goddamn. She’s fucking sexy. The dumb bitch doesn’t say anything more, but she finally huffs off.

  “Man, you should’ve slapped that butterface,” Jeff laughs as he tips his drink back.

  “Nah, she really is too fucking stupid,” Sophia grins at him before stepping around her chair.

  Leaning to the side, I hold the back as she takes a seat again.

  “Thanks,” she smiles over at me. Grinning back at her, I cop a feel of her tit real quick as she scoots her chair in. She hurries and slaps my hand away.

  “Tristan!” she squeaks, looking embarrassed.

  “There it is,” I grin again, grabbing my drink off the table.

  “There is what?”

  “That smile.”

  She closes her mouth, but her smile is still wide. Her eyes look up and she shrugs.

  “I know, I’m lame,” she says when she looks back down at me.

  Raising my eyebrow up at her, she shakes her head again.

  “Letting something that dumb get to me, I mean.”

  Now I grin wide at her.

  “Where you fucking at, my girl?”

  Her eyes light up when her smile reaches them.

  “Metal Gods.”

  Nodding, I go on.

  “And why are you here?”

  She pulls her lips into her mouth, her eyes moving over my face.

  “Best new band.”

  “Do I need to keep going?”

  “No,” she breathes.

  I almost have to read her lips because of the noise in here. Her small hands take hold of the neck of my shirt and crush my lips onto hers. I grab the back of her chair with one hand and use the other to brace myself over the table. Damn. I fucking love it when she gets feisty like this.

  “Can you guys, oh, I don’t know, go maybe a couple hours without having your privates touching?” Roger asks jokingly.

  Sophia pulls away from me, laughing at him.

  “Christ,” I mumble. That fucking guy.

  I sit back down as Roger laughs at himself one more time. For the rest of the night, Sophia goes back to how she was when we first got here; having a good time. When it’s time for Dollar Settlement to get their award, the way she looks up on that stage with her band is fucking priceless.

  Slash presented them with their award, then gave her tiny bump and quick rub. Any other fucking dude was to do that, I wouldn’t give a shit who it was, I would have been pissed and broken some bones. But this is fucking Slash. I already know she can’t wait to call her dad.

  My chest tightens when I look out at her, my girl, wearing a fucking leather dress with sick heels while she’s carrying our baby.

  I dip my head down and run my fingertips across my lips to cover my chuckle. Only Sophia could still fucking rock that dress as if she weren’t even pregnant. But why shouldn’t she? My girl is gorgeous. She’s starting to change, but she’s still just as feisty as ever, fucking sexy as hell.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sophia

  “Sophia…” Tristan whispers across my temple.

  Blinking my eyes open slowly, I see the SUV’s headlights shining on our house. Shit, I must’ve fallen asleep. Tristan leans over and opens his door.

  “Hold up, babe.” He glances at me over his shoulder, grinning.

  By the time I’m done yawning, Tristan is already opening the door. He reaches out for me and grips my elbows. Wrapping my hands around his forearms, I hop out of the SUV. The moment my foot lands on the stone, I wince at a sharp pain that shoots fire from my instep all the way up the back of my calf.

  “Shit…” I hiss.

  “What?”

  Tristan keeps his hold on me, helping me keep balance when I carefully set my other foot down. Shit! The sharp pain shoots up again, but this time it’s not as bad. Blowing out a breath, I look up at Tristan’s handsome face, worried as his eyes rapidly scan my face.

  “My feet are fucked,” I say, trying to smile, but with my feet on fire, it fades quickly.

  As if he just read my thoughts or something, Tristan squats slightly and curls his arms around the back of my knees and lifts me to him, carrying me into the house. Ahh… Relief rushes through the soles of my feet. Walking up to the front door, Tristan nods his chin at the handle.

  “Can you get that?”

  I can feel the warmth of his breath on me. Biting my bottom lip, I suppress a smile as I try to wiggle out of his arms, but it doesn’t seem that he wants to let me go because his grip gets tighter and he crushes me to his chest.

  “How am I supposed to open the door if you don’t let me unlock it?” I laugh. His strong chest rumbles with his own laugh. “Tristan!”

  I press my hands against his pecs and try to push off, but of course, it doesn’t do shit. Honestly, I’m kind of surprised he can still hold me and keep me still without struggling. But he doesn’t budge. In fact, he turns around with me still in his arms and walks over to my car which is parked in the circular driveway.

  Tristan sets me down on the hood, and, digging into his front pocket, pulls out the keys. Watching his back as he heads for the door, I try to slide down.

  “Hold up.” He lifts his hand as he glances back at me. He unlocks the door and walks back, hauling me up again. A squeal escapes my throat at the rush my stomach feels when he lifts me.

  “You tired?” he breathes down on me as he carries me into the house.

  Gently shaking my head no, I look up at him and catch the grin that spreads across his face.

  “Good.”

  I tighten my arms around his neck when he closes the door behind him with his foot. He carries me to our room with ease. Fucking unbelie
vable. I bury my face in his chest and close my eyes tight at the fact that Tristan is all shivery. When I do this, I breathe in the scent of cedar. His scent washes a thrill over my already freaking sensitive senses.

  “Hold on.”

  He strides over to the dresser. The room is mostly dark, but in the slivers of light coming through the wide windows, I can see the muscles in his back tightening underneath his shirt in sync with each step he takes.

  Fuck. I clench when my eyes roam the back of him, wanting to dig my freaking nails into him when I check out his thick waist. I’m wet dreaming right there of him giving in to me. I admire him right down to his black Timberlands unevenly laced and barely tied together. Even that drives me fucking crazy.

  He grins over his shoulder at me before he turns around. Another second passes and Live’s Lightning Crashes plays through the dock that’s on top of the dresser. Tristan stalks over to me.

  He slowly squats to his knees and grips my ankle, resting my foot on his thigh. He unfastens the strap around my ankle, running his thumbs over the spot the strap was just covering. Pressing his thumbs along my instep, he massages my foot. My eyes flutter closed and my head falls back, a soft moan escaping my lips. His rough hands feel like magic on my skin.

  When he’s done with my left foot, he gently sets it off to the side and starts over with my right, his touch soothing my skin. Yeah... I'm definitely not wearing those types of shoes for the rest of the pregnancy. Lifting my head upright, my eyes open and I find Tristan just watching me, his hands still working as his eyes search mine as if he’s trying to say something, but can’t.

  “Come.”

  He stands, bringing his hand down to reach for mine. My foot slips off his lap and drops to the floor.

  “What?” I ask hesitantly.

  Tristan’s warm eyes look down on me in admiration.

  “Sophia.”

  Okay...

  Placing my hand in his, he tugs me gently off the bed and pulls me into him. Wrapping one arm around my waist, he runs his fingers through my hair, pulling my head back. Tristan runs his nose up my neck, giving me small kisses that lead to the tip of my chin.

  We slowly begin to dance to the haunting lyrics. Tristan releases my hair so he can pull me in tighter. I hook my arms underneath his so I can grip his shoulder blades. When the chorus repeats, Tristan’s rough face grazes the side of mine as he sings in a low voice.