Everything I Need (25 page)

Read Everything I Need Online

Authors: Natalie Barnes

Biting my bottom lip, I fist one hand in his hair, pulling hard on his scalp, with the other, I dig my nails into his forearm. He takes my ass in his forceful grip and begins to move me against him.

Ours lips only a breath away from each other’s, we breathe in each gasp each moan. I want to close my eyes tight, but he doesn’t let me. We hold our gaze, our lips not touching. This feels damn more potent than anything we have shared before.

“Ah, Tristan. Please!”

“Please what, Sophia?”

He cocks his head to the side, a shadow of smile on his face. I want to kiss him. I want to let my head fall back and my eyes tight. But he won’t allow it. This pleasure that he is bringing me is too fucking much. Again, I feel the buildup inside me. Short, faint, whimpers escape my throat as I hold on to him, grinding myself against him. Tristan brings one hand up and squeezes my breast as he dips his lips down to lay an open-mouthed kiss around the nipple.

The sharp sensation has my body reacting. I come again, shaking, my arousal pouring onto him as he keeps up the rhythm. Flipping me onto my back, his hands raise my arms above my head. Lacing our fingers together again, he starts pounding into my sensitive flesh, thrust after thrust after thrust. Harder and harder each time.

I can barely open my eyes. Tristan’s jaw is tight as his eyes search my face, then he gives one last thrust so fucking hard that it actually feels like he’s deep inside my womb when his cock begins to twitch.

“FUCK!” he roars, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple as he spills into me.

I inhale deeply, my lungs begging for air. Tristan’s hand swipes across my face, moving the strands of hair aside.

“I love you.”

Damn, my heart is beating so fast.
Could this
moment get any more fucking perfect?
Pulling out of me slowly, Tristan reaches for my hand, helping me to sit.

“I love you, too,” I say back quietly.

I’m spent again and now I have to get ready for tonight’s show.
How in the fuck?
 

“Come, let’s shower,” he says to me, helping me stand because it feels like I’ve just run a football field with weights on my ankles. Wrapping my arms around his waist, we both head to the bathroom. I still can’t believe that Tristan is mine.
Holy shit!

 

************

 

Backstage is fucking crazy right now. The roadies and the stage techs are bustling around, preparing for tonight’s show. My guys are off, probably just sitting around drinking a couple as usual, and I’m sitting in front of Frankie’s makeshift vanity, waiting for him to get here. I’m picking at invisible fluff on my jeans when Frankie swings open the door.

“HEY!” he yells as if I’m much further away.

He comes prancing in, wearing his ‘metal’ attire, as he calls it . . .  skin tight, black leather pants and a matching vest with nothing on underneath. His hair is in a half pony with full-blown smoky eyes going on. His little biker boots make clicking sounds as he approaches me.

“Love, love, love the new wardrobe and LOVE this new, darker side,” he says as he sets down his bag.

Spinning me in the chair to face him, he scrunches down so we’re at eye level.

“Are you ready?” he asks me, grinning.

“This isn’t my first time doing this, Frankie.”

“Honey, I know you’re not a chair virgin anymore. Oh God . . .” He stops and looks up, reminiscing. “Popping your fashion cherry that day at the warehouse was so much fun.”

“Frankie!”

I give him a light tap on his leg with my toe. He bursts out giggling as he spins the chair around.

“I’m going to start with your hair, but halfway through . . .”

“I know, I know. I can’t peek.”

“You know it,” he says, winking at me in the mirror.

Frankie starts work, combing through my hair.

“I got some news,” I smile.

“Hmm?” he mumbles, pulling out heat rollers and pins.

“My parents will be here tonight.”

He stops what he’s doing and smirks at me.

“Really? Are they coming out afterwards?”

“No. But they will be backstage right after the show to see everyone. My dad loves this kind of thing and my mom-”

“Your mom freaking loves me!” he interrupts as he starts working with my hair again. Smirking, I roll my eyes.

“You fucking scare her, Frankie.”
I stare at him in the mirror again. He looks stunned.

“Why do you say that?”
Raising my eyebrow at him, I give him this ‘duh’ look.

“Because, the first time you met her, you said, ‘
I can see where your daughter gets her rack from
.”

Frankie shrugs his shoulders, grinning. 

“What? It was a freaking compliment!” I shake my head at him and he goes back to my hair. “So . . . they’re gonna meet Tristan then, huh?”

He glances up at me, his grin turning into a full megawatt smile.

Shit!
I love Tristan, but we’ve only been together a short time. Introducing a guy to your parents is something you do when, I don’t know . . . you’ve been with someone a while.

Letting out a sigh, I shrug my shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Frankie stops what he’s doing again, lifting his eyebrow at me.

“What? You don’t think they’ll like him or something?”

“It’s not that, Frankie. My dad knew his music before I even met him. It’s my mom that might be a little skeptical. They’re both cool, I just think it’s kind of weird introducing Tristan as my . . .
boyfriend
.” I say ‘boyfriend’ as if it were a dirty word.

Frankie rolls his heavily made up eyes at me.

“Girl, you always over think shit. Let it go.”

I nod at him, agreeing. I know I have to get less wound up tight on shit. It’s just funny hearing it from Frankie. He really does give solid advice.

“You’re right.”

“Duh,” he laughs at me.

“You’re starting a new tour. Shit went to shit with . . . Benny,” he says, pausing and looking over his shoulder as if someone were in the room. “And now you’re with the sex god from 300 and Fight Club with a dash of Dirk Diggler’s cock all rolled into one.”

What?

“Fuck, Frankie!” I burst out laughing.

“What? Girl you know it’s true.”

He sings the last part like Milli Vanilli. I love Frankie and I’m so pumped that he’ll be with me, not only the six weeks over here, but the other four weeks in Europe. Breaking me out of the fun ideas I have running around my head for this tour, Frankie cackles before facing me again. His full smile has turned into a sinister smirk.

“By the way . . . Tristan isn’t controlling or anything, right?”

What the fuck? Maybe in the bedroom and little things, but not my life.
Where is he going with this?

“No.” I say blandly.

“Good. So he won’t mind what you’re wearing tonight, then.”

Huh?

“What do you mean? Isn’t it just like my old stage clothes?”

“Well. Kind of,” he shrugs.

“What’s your plan, Frankie? You’re not dressing me funky or some shit, are you?”

Frankie’s smirk drops for a second, as if what I just said offended him.

“Sophia, you’re my sex shooter, okay? I would never have my name on shit.”

Good. Relaxing in the chair again, he places the comb and rollers down beside me and gallops . . .
fucking gallops!
over to the table behind me, unzipping a bag.

“I would like you to see what you’ll be rocking in the states.”

He wiggles his eyebrows in the mirror at me, lifting up the pieces, yes, fucking PIECES of leather in his hands. Spinning the chair to him, I squeal,

“Oh my God!”

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

Tristan

 

 

All of us except for Sophia are hanging out in the back room just minutes before Dollar Settlement is due to go on. My band, her band, all of us are just partying back here.

“Yo!” Caleb yells and I glance over at him.

“Guy, you watching that door like a fucking hawk! Have a smoke with us.”

Caleb raises his hand, showing off a joint. My eyes go back to the door and that’s when I see her.
Christ!
All the guys pause for a moment. Roger’s laugh is the only sound left lingering until he sees her, too. Her eyes are a little glossy; she must have been catching a buzz while she was getting ready, fuck!

“Shit!” Dave behind me groans.

Giving him a backward glare, he quickly looks down, knowing he just fucked up.

“Damn, Sophie!” Roger laughs before taking another drink of his beer.

She smiles at him then her eyes nervously find mine. She’s wearing these tiny ass leather not-even-shorts and a brief, sleeveless leather top with a bunch of rips going across the chest. The outfit pretty much fucking shows everything but her fucking nipples.

Her hair is falling around her tiny frame with black eye makeup smudged to the side slightly, making her blue eyes look like diamonds embedded in a pit of coal. Her lips are the same color as her skin, glistening under the fluorescent light.

She looks like a dark angel. A goddess fallen from Heaven but too damn gorgeous to belong in Hell. My eyes travel slowly, taking in every flawless inch of her skin until they stop on her fucking heels.

Exactly.
Fucking
heels. Heels like that belong wrapped tight around me as I drive my cock in her, hard and fast. They’re black, with metal pieces on the heels. Long, thin, leather straps work around her legs up to mid-calf. Lux stops behind her and quickly looks up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” he says as he scoots by her, not making eye contact with her or me.

Pulling his handkerchief out, he fumbles with it. Christ, Sophia has every cock in the room  standing at attention; I can’t even fucking think about when she goes out there to an arena of  thousands. The thought pisses me off. Hardening my eyes on her, hers begin glistening. My girl knows and she fucking gets off on it.

Rising from my chair, I stalk over to her. Lux is giving his usual pep talk, but I don’t fucking care right now. All I can think about is tearing these pieces of fucking fabric apart, fucking her hard, and then telling her to put something else on. If I did, she would just tell me to fuck off. I stop when I hear Lux bring up Cory’s name. Sophia’s eyes go from desire to sadness in a second.

“I know it’s a really hard day, today. The twenty-eighth of October will never be forgotten amongst you guys.” He finally faces Sophia. “But you all know that Cory’s looking down right now, telling you guys to go out there and nail it.”

“He wouldn’t say nail it. Shit! Sounds like something you do with a pussy or a board!” Roger bursts out laughing.

That gets a couple of the guys going, but I know the guy is probably doing it to protect himself.

“Whatever, Roger,” Lux grins at him. “He’s out there tonight same as all of your fans. I want you to go out there and show everyone in your home state that Dollar Settlement is here tonight to kick some ass!”

“WOO!” Roger screams as he lifts his beer. Looking up, he says something quietly to himself before slamming the rest.

“All right, everyone. It’s showtime.” Lux rubs his hands together.

One by one, Sophia’s band starts heading out. She gives me one last glance before turning and following them. I try to keep up with her. Damn, she walks fast. Even in crazy heels like that, she manages to keep her distance. Coming up on her quickly, I reach around her, placing my forearm over her chest.

“Wait!” I breathe, crushing her back into me.

She stops and slowly turns in front of me. Damn, she smells so fucking good.

“I have to go, Tristan.”

She’s all breathy, too. Running my tongue over my bottom lip, the corner slowly rises. Something just came to mind.

“Try not to fuck up out there.”

Her eyes narrow but her smile widens. A short laugh comes out from under her breath when she reaches for my shirt, now yanking me into her.
Damn.

“Fuck you!” she says, then lays a fucking all-out kiss on me. When she pulls away, I fucking almost fall into her. I crave, need, more. She blows a quick kiss at me again before taking the stage.

My eyes are locked on that fine ass when Caleb slaps me hard on the back.

“Roll your fucking tongue back up, will ya?”

With a close-mouthed smile, I shake my head ‘no,’ still staring at my girl. Just knowing that my tongue was inside her not too long ago has me raging right now.

The stage is dark but then, fire and strobe lights take over, showing only shadows of Sophia standing center stage, banging her head to the beat of Roger’s drums. Her hair flows all around her as the fans blow forcefully against her. She’s so fucking beautiful.

Working the stage, she holds onto the mic as she bellows out the lyrics, leaning over the edge, blowing her hair around as more fire explodes around her, keeping in sync with the rhythm.

When the song is over, Sophia strides over to Jeff and rests her elbow on his shoulder.

“How’s it going, DETROIT?!” she screams the last part.

The crowd is flipping the fuck out; the energy in here is insane. Another thing I know she gets off on, is shows like this.

“We’re ba-ack!” she teasingly chimes through the mic. “It’s good to be home, and starting this amazing tour with the best fucking audience any of us could ever want. This here is Jeff.” She points at him with the mic in her hand. “Let’s show him some fucking love tonight!”

The crowd grows even wilder, a fucking mosh pit already circling around the front of the stage. Stepping away from Jeff, she makes her way back to the front of the stage.

“And the other boys,” she waves her arms out behind her. “Roger, Jared, and Matt!”

Jared and Matt wave as Roger does a double bass riff.

“Now. Tonight.
Only
tonight. We ask for all of you to let whatever you have going on in your life go. Every. Fucking. Thing. Because tonight, it’s your night.” She opens her free hand out to the crowd. “Your time to just say, ‘fuck it,’ and let go!”

Screams pierce, echoing through the arena as they start playing again. I know this song of hers, it’s “Ever Fakes.” She told me they wrote this song because it reminded them of a lot of the people they came across in LA. Kind of her way of saying ‘fuck you’ to those people.

I watch her go song after song, never slowing down or pausing. Her tight body is becoming drenched in sweat.
Fuck!
I don’t even want to glance out at the crowd; I’ll be breaking necks. Their performance tonight is fucking epic.

Her set is almost over when she stops again. Placing the mic back on the stand, she pops her hip out.

“Thank you’s so fucking much, it’s always good to play at the Joe for you wonderful people.”

Her smile pushes her high cheekbones up even further, but then it slowly fades.

“Two years ago tonight,” She points down at the stage, “We lost our best friend.”

Some of the crowd starts screaming Cory’s name. Breathing in deeply, she looks up as if she was looking straight at Cory.

“How’d we do?”

Her voice cracks at the end, but a smile is on her face. Her head bows for a moment, her long, waving hair falls around her, almost like a shield.

Seeing my girl like this fucking tears me apart. I know she’s strong, but I can also feel a part of her breaking this very minute. I want to go out there and wrap her in my arms. Lifting her chin back up, her voice comes out a little stronger than it was.

“Last time we played in Detroit, for our final song, I used my favorite band’s song. Tonight, I would like to keep that tradition going. Not only am I going to keep it going, but I dedicate this one to our Cory. Here’s In This Moment’s “Into the Light.”

 

 

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