Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (21 page)

BOOK: Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3)
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“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 unbelievable. 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.

“The angel opened her eyes...”

I’ve never heard him sound like this before. He lets go of me and cups the sides of my face, making me look up at him. He looks almost pained. Standing up on my tiptoes, I lean into him and open my mouth for him. His opens slightly but he doesn’t invade me with his tongue. Instead, we tease each other with the tips of our tongues as we continue to slowly dance. The memory of the first time we did this floods me. I remember how he made me feel as if I was the only person in this world. He does it again, but now, the thought of not being with Tristan physically hurts.

“I love you,” he breathes into my mouth before finally pressing his lips against mine.

His soft, warm tongue glides against mine, imitating how he treats my clit with it. Tiny shocks shoot down my spine, tightening my pussy when a small groan escapes his throat and pours into mine.

“I love you, too,” I breathe against his open mouth.

Catching me off guard, Tristan scoops me up again and carries me to the bed, kissing me deeply. When he lays me on my back, I use my elbows to prop myself up as I watch him slowly lift back up. Keeping his eyes locked on me, he starts to undo the rest of his buttons.

When he reaches the last one, his shirt falls wide open against his massive chest. The tattoos on his arm sleeve dance when he tugs his shirt off behind him, pushing out his chest. Damn. My thighs tighten on their own and Tristan’s eyes flash. A sinister grin creeps across his face when he looks back at me.

Tossing his shirt to the floor, he falls completely to his knees. Gripping my ankles, he separates my trembling legs. The way he’s looking at me, and knowing exactly where his head is gonna be in a few seconds, sends another pulsating rush through me. His arms are like trees, long and thick as he reaches behind me and yanks a pillow down.

Tristan smiles sincerely, watching me wiggle my way back to get comfortable. I see something flash in his eyes before he lowers his mouth between my legs. The leather dress clings to my thighs when he hikes it up. Now his lips lay over the thin material of my panties, but not inhaling or trying to taste me. His mouth just parts slightly as his breath hits my sensitive flesh. Fuck…

Hooking his index fingers on each side, he drags my panties down my thighs at an agonizingly slow speed. Each little fiber from the cotton stings my skin in the sweetest way as his hands run down my legs. Tristan leans back as he finally pulls the small piece off my ankle. His grin is gone, but his eyes are still amused as he looks down on my trembling body. Fucking traitor. I try to calm myself, but every cell lights up whenever he touches me, or is even about to.

His eyes stare at my opening with absolute lust, almost greed, before he lowers himself. My fingers instantly grip his thick locks the moment his tongue makes contact with my clit.

“Ah…”

My head falls back. It feels so fucking good. Tristan groans in pleasure right into my pussy, which clenches my insides even more. Shit. With one hand wrapped around my upper thigh, he brings his finger up and gently runs it between my folds before slowly sliding it in. His mouth works over my clit, then he gives it a tug with his lips. A small pop sounds when he releases it.

Letting go of his head, I bring my arms out to the side, trying to fist the sheet beside me as Tristan slides his tongue from my opening up to my clit, sucks it, then drags it back down before penetrating me with it. My breaths become shallow as my moans sing through the room. Ah, fuck.

“Tastes so fucking good. Fuck! So sweet,” Tristan moans into me.

Heat grows in my core as his tongue laps up every drop of me. His grip on my thigh lets go and a rush of cool air hits my sensitive skin when he pulls away from me. When he stands, his erection is pretty freaking obvious inside of his jeans.

My heavy eyes watch as he drags his zipper down, his eyes locked on mine. Fuck, I want to get out of this dress. When I try to sit up, Tristan puts his hand out and stops me, shaking his head but not saying anything.

Letting go of the tab of his zipper, his jeans fall, resting loosely on his hips. My eyes greedily scan his V and move down over the patch of dark hair on his groin. Dropping his left arm down on the bed beside me, he circles his other arm around my back and sits me up.

His thighs opened wide on each side of my legs, Tristan’s hands work the back of my dress, loosening it so it falls off the sides of my shoulders. Then he reaches for the hem. Lifting my ass up, he tugs and pushes up the bottom of my dress so it’s crumpled around my lower back. Sliding his hand between my legs, the wetness of my arousal coats the side of his hand.

“Damn, baby…” he moans, and his carefully planned moves get thrown right out the window.

Tristan doesn’t waste anymore time getting to me. Grabbing the dress below my armpits, he pulls tight, the leather screaming as he rips it down my sides. What pieces of the dress that are left fall open and off me. Tristan sprawls his hand over my growing abdomen; he uses the thumb of the other to brush away some of the strands of hair that have fallen in my face. Helping me position on my side, Tristan crawls off the bed again and easily pulls me down.

My arms circling over my stomach, Tristan takes one of my legs and straddles it, wrapping my right leg around his waist, he positions the head of his cock at my entrance. As he leans over, he slowly sinks deep into me, his groin circling against my clit every time he enters me. My eyes close at the sensation of fullness.

Another moan escapes me when he leans back and starts picking up the rhythm. He stretches out my left leg so it rests against his shoulder as he continues to sink into me. His hands scrape against my legs. Wrapping his fingers around my ankle, he turns his head to the side and gives the edge of my foot a kiss as he circles his hips into me.

“You all right?” he asks through his breaths as he pumps into me.

My hands move up my body and cup my breasts. Tristan’s eyes widen when they pour out of my palms.

“Fuck, yeah. Touch yourself,” he groans and the sound of his voice causes heat to spill out of me.

Closing my eyes tightly, I try to fight the urge but fail when a sharp pinch from Tristan’s fingers hits my clit.

“Ah, fuck!” I moan as I come.

Turning my face to the side, I press it hard into the mattress as Tristan grips my leg that’s resting against his chest and pounds into me harder. With each thrust I wince at the sensitivity my body feels now when he goes to certain depths. Sweat drips off him and hits my skin. Letting go of my leg, Tristan bends over me a little more and drives into me, hitting me hard then pulling out soft.

I grow lightheaded and my eyes flutter open from my orgasm. But Tristan is not done. My heavy breasts hang over as I lie on my side and continue to get fucked. His large hand expands over my breast. He cups it gently as he swivels his hips into me, my ass pressed up against him. I feel his hard breaths against my ear.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

Slowing his speed again, he takes his time with me. Fucking me on my side like this with my leg wrapped around him feels so much fucking deeper with the motion of his hips rolling into me.

“Say you’re mine. Please…” Tristan begs.

His nose presses against the side of my forehead. My eyes open again when I feel his right arm push down on the bed, the tattoo on his upper arm and down his side working across his skin.

“I-I’m yours,” I say breathily.

He hits me hard with his next thrust.

“I fucking love you, Sophia,” he moans over my ear, causing even more heat to spill from me.

Fuck. Tristan pulls back from me with his arms still extended out on the bed. He rolls his hips harder a few more times before stilling. Throwing his neck back, I watch his Adam’s apple work in his throat as he moans, his cock jerking inside me.

Out of breath, Tristan leans over to the left of me and collapses on the bed, pulling me into him.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he whispers gruffly.

My heart hurts at the tinge of pain I hear in his voice. Closing my eyes tight, I stay in the fetal position and bring my hands up to Tristan’s that are holding me to him.

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