Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (2 page)

I only want one part of me touching Sophia, and that’s my tongue. Dropping to my knees, I notice something in Sophia’s eyes flash. Her body starts to tremble as I lean over, gripping the mattress on either side of her thighs. My dick is fucking hard as I breathe over her hot pussy. Dipping my head in, I lightly graze the tip of my tongue over the entire length, separating the sweet lips with my mouth as I work my way up.

Fuck! She just tastes so fucking good. I have to fight back the urge just to shove my fucking face into her. When I feel her swollen clit hit the tip of my tongue, I wrap my mouth around it, savoring the luscious little piece of flesh that causes her to fucking lose all control.

“
Tristan…
” she softly begs me as she falls back onto the bed, almost as if she wants me to stop. But as she falls, she opens herself up more to me.

“What is it, Sophia?” I speak right into her pussy; I know she fucking loves it.

I have to touch all of her now because she can’t stay still. Trying to circle her hips, I pin them down, watching that fine, soaking pussy of hers as she tries to inch her herself closer to my lips.

“What do you want, Sophia?”

“You.
Fuck!
Just you…” she whimpers.

“You have me, my girl.” I run my finger up her slit before sinking two fingers into her, knuckle deep.

“You fucking have me,” I say more to myself as I’m hypnotized by the throbbing bud in front of me. Not holding back, I circle my lips around her clit again and pull it gently into my mouth as I savor her heat. She wriggles underneath me, breaking apart as I drink up every ounce of her arousal.

I won’t be able to fucking stand it much longer. I trail my tongue slowly from her entrance up to her clit again, making my way slowly up her tight stomach with my tongue. Fuck! Going from the sweet, musky juices of her pussy to the saltiness of her hot skin, she tastes so damn good. I open my mouth wider when I reach her breasts, hating that I have to choose just fucking one to taste first.

Sophia flinches as if she were in pain when I lightly twist her nipple between my thumb and finger. A soft whimper escapes her lips. The sound sets me off. Reaching up with my hands, I entwine our fingers and raise her arms above her head, pinning them down. I press my chest up the length of her trembling body ’til our mouths reach.

Damn, just feeling her underneath me like this is driving me insane. I sneak my tongue out through barely parted lips to get a quick taste of hers. As soon as she opens her mouth, I slide my tongue back in, teasing her again. The corner of my mouth creeps up as I stare down at her. Through hooded eyes, her lips part even further, opening her mouth up more to me as she breathes in.

With her tiny hands still trapped in mine, I raise my hips, using my knee to nudge her legs open more. Sophia opens up willingly, effortlessly. I’m so fucking hard that the head of my cock inches into her wet warmth.

“T-Tristan…”

Her voice is soft, nervous… her actions and her words are conflicting each other, as if she both needs my cock and wants to crawl inside somewhere and hide.

Sliding into her slowly, I begin pressing through her, feeding her starving pussy a heavy inch at a time. She presses her head back on the mattress, causing her neck to lift. Fuck, that looks good. Running my tongue over my lips, I tilt my head to the side and lean in, gently sucking on her salty skin again. I know she hates hickeys, but I can’t help it. I love fucking devouring every inch of my sweet Sophia.

Something inside me pulls deep when I stare back into Sophia’s eyes, feeling the warmth of her pussy wrapped tightly around my dick as I drag it slowly out of her, and push back in again. Part of me wants to lose control and start pounding into her, with the way she is staring up at me, to the soft whimpers that fall from those beautiful lips, to feeling myself inside of her. But this?
Fuck!

Sophia closes her eyes and turns her head the other way as I feel her pussy contract around my cock. I know my girl is close.

“Baby, let me see you,” I manage to rasp through gritted teeth.

I’m so fucking close to letting everything go, but I want to see her come undone.

Sophia hesitantly opens her eyes, batting her long lashes a couple of times before she turns her face to me. With those vivid sapphire eyes staring into mine, I know I’m a fucking goner. Closing my eyes, I press my face against the side of hers.

“I love you…”

My voice comes out gruffly because between my heart and my dick, I’m feeling so many fucking different emotions right now that I feel like I’m losing control. But I love losing it with her.

Sophia’s hands travel up my back, dragging her nails into my skin. When she reaches the side of my face, she wraps those delicate fingers around it and presses me up so I’m staring back down at her again. Our hips move slowly, rhythmically with each other. Every time they meet, we swivel them in opposite directions. The friction alone is fucking mind-blowing, but having this beautiful woman beneath me is utopia.

My eyes lock onto that sweet tongue as it glides across her plump, bottom lip. I feel her beginning to tense beneath me, and I know she’s about to come.

“You feel so good,” she sighs, her words sending fire through me.

Right as those words leave her lips, my girl lets go and it feels so fucking good. Her pussy greedily holds my cock as I keep the rhythm at an easy pace. I squeeze her hands hard with mine as I feel myself coming, pouring every last ounce of me inside her. Part of me always thinks, ‘Hey, maybe that’s not a good idea…’ but that voice can shut the fuck up. She’s mine and I want everything of me in her. Same goes the other way.

Besides, what’s the worst that could fucking happen?

Chapter Two

Sophia

I didn’t have the fucking guts to tell him. Nope, just couldn’t do it. I got so completely lost in him that everything else was erased from my thoughts. Now I’m sitting here in a tiny cement block room, waiting for Frankie. We go on in a couple hours and I want to say that we’re in…
Tampa?
I really have no idea, but I’m almost positive that’s where we’re at.

I’m facing away from the mirror because I really don’t want to see myself right now. Isn’t that fucked up? I have never felt more alone than I do right now. My mind won’t shut off either, not even for a damn minute so I can catch a breath.

I’m so fucking lost right now that I have no clue where to begin. Okay, first and only thing I do know is, I’m not getting rid of it. Fuck that. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I do know for sure that no matter what happens, I will be a mother at the end of this.

I’m pregnant.
Holy shit! I’m fucking pregnant! It’s so freaking crazy. I never pictured myself being a mom, but I guess I never pictured myself
not
being one, either. I can’t take being the only one knowing, and there’s no way I’m letting Tristan know yet.
Gawd,
he’s going to flip the fuck out! What if he decides he doesn’t want this? I can feel my heart already tearing.

My eyes begin to sting with tears when all of a sudden; Frankie comes bouncing in through the door.

“Hey, girl!”

He waves to me then blows me a kiss, totally oblivious to what he just walked in on. Good. Frankie hangs up the garment bag on a hook, facing the wall opposite from where I’m sitting and goes on.

“Big party tonight, huh? Girl, I got something totally hot planned for you.”

He spins around, giving me a wink. Plastering a fake smile on my face, I rub my right eye with my fist so it looks like I’m tired or something…which, by the way, a nap would be pretty sweet right now. I slowly spin around in the chair.

“Frankie, I’m pretty tired. I think I may skip out tonight.”

“Yeah, okay,” he giggles to himself, shaking his head as if I were just joking or something.

“No, really. I’m gonna crash.”

I eye his back through the mirror. Frankie tosses his brush down and spins around, resting his hip against the vanity top, crossing his bony arms.

“Girl, you so silly...” he says the last part teasingly while flipping his hand at me in the air.

“Whatever, Frankie,” I laugh back at him.

Rolling his eyes at me, Frankie turns back around, prepping his station.

“Anyways, before you turn all old lady style on my ass…” he continues, going on about something.

I end up zoning out again, locked in with the stare of my own reflection. I manage to speak every few moments; you know, when I have to reply back.

“Yeah, Frankie...”

“Okay...”

He seems to think that I’m paying attention to him though, because he hasn’t stopped to bitch me out for ignoring him yet. Baby, Tristan, tour, my parents, my career… Shit! It’s like the freaking carnival ride the Zipper is going on in my head and I can’t make it fucking stop. Usually, when I begin to feel like this, I chill out with a joint and my boys. Now, clearly, I can’t. I just want to escape.

I feel Frankie’s sudden light jab to my upper arm.

“You remember her, right?” he asks. “You know, she had the bad weave and she used to date Markus.”

I have no fucking clue who he’s talking about. His voice is getting drowned out by the blood pumping loudly in my ears. My heart is beginning to race a thousand fold as my eye lids get heavier. I’m either gonna puke or pass out. I can’t hold all this shit in anymore.

“I’m pregnant…” I croak out as if I was saying it to myself more than to him, but I just can’t seem to say the words louder than a whisper.

Like, this is for fucking real now by admitting it to someone. Frankie is still off in his own little world as he rolls my hair with the iron. Did he even fucking hear what I just said?

“She kind of reminds me of that crazy witch chick in
The Craft
. Remember? When she’s freaking out on the bed saying she can fly and shit?”

He giggles to himself, his eyes scanning from the pieces of my hair in his hand to my eyes in the mirror, and that’s when it finally hits him. Frankie pauses with the curling iron mid-air as the pieces of my hair slip through his fingers. Tears start falling on their own, each one cascading down my cheeks. Pulling my lips into my mouth, I shut my eyes tightly when I see Frankie’s cute smiling face morph into complete horror. I didn’t know Frankie could even stretch his forehead that fucking high.

I keep my eyes closed for a good minute as I wait in silence for Frankie to speak up.

“Please say something,” I plead to him softly.

Then I feel Frankie’s cool, soft hand settle on my shoulder; not rubbing or squeezing, but just resting there. After what seems like a few more minutes, Frankie lightly clears his throat.

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

Great, even Frankie sounds nervous right now. With my eyes still closed, I tilt my head down, shaking it from side to side.

“I’m scared, Frankie.”

Blinking my eyes open slowly, I find Frankie’s glossy eyes staring back into mine. That sight alone has me fucking losing it. I let go, more tears begin to pour down my face as I choke on a cry. Frankie can’t see me like this. Bringing my hands up, I press my face into them so he doesn’t see too much of this. He is still holding onto my shoulder, but now he grips it more firmly. His long fingers dig in as he spins me around in the chair. Crouching down in front of me, he runs his fingers through my tear-soaked ones and gently lowers my hand away from my face.

“Shh…it’s all right, Sophia.”

Running my tongue over my lips, I catch the taste of my tears. Frankie notices my wet streaked face and stands up briefly, leaning over me to grab some tissues from the vanity.

“Here, girl.”

He places a few in my hand. Nodding my head in thanks at him, I wipe my eyes. Frankie takes a couple steps off to the left of me and leans against the wall. Crossing his ankles and his arms, tilting his head to the side, he just stands there with no emotion now on his face. What the fuck? I have never once, in all the time I’ve known Frankie, seen him like this. Emotionless. I mean, the guy still cries at
Edward Scissorhands
.

He waits for me to speak. Taking small breaths, I finish wiping my face off. With tear burned eyes, I stare right at him as I exhale, deeply, one more time.

“I fucked up, Frankie.” 

He shakes his head no.

“You didn’t fuck
up
, girl, you
fucked
, and now you’re
knocked
up.”

He puckers those lips of his out as they curl up at me.
That little shit.

“It’s not funny, Frankie,” I try to scold him, but his silliness brings a small smile to my face.

“No, it’s not. But you need to smile.”

His cocky smirk turns into the softest smile I have ever seen on Frankie’s face.

“Charlie Chaplin,” he shrugs. “I always found his words to be wise.”

We stare at each other for another few minutes before Frankie pulls out his phone.

“Shit, girl. I got to get you going!”

Just like that, the insane moment of confession is over. As I am thinking that, Frankie speaks up again, circling his wrist with the hand that’s holding the brush.

“So…um… I take it that the baby daddy doesn’t know yet?” he whispers secretively, as if someone were waiting outside the dressing room door.

“No,” I state, my tone flat.

Frankie pinches his eyebrows together and goes back to my hair. Not looking back up at me, he tries to keep his mouth closed as he giggles, causing his lips to push out even more.

“What?”

I quirk my brow up at him, but Frankie just shakes his head quickly, avoiding my question with one of his own.

“When do you plan on telling him?”

Shit. That’s good question, though. I don’t know. Shrugging my shoulders at him, I watch for a reaction but get nothing. He peeks at me in the mirror, every once in a while giving me a tight-lipped smile. I roll my eyes at him because I know he’s itching for me to ask him.

“Say it, Frankie.”

“Hmm…” Frankie shrugs his slender shoulders, still working my hair.

“
Hmm…
what?”

Frankie pauses in my hair again and bends down behind me so that his lips are just a few inches away from the side of my face. Keeping his eyes still focused on mine, he softly teases me.

“So you know, the longer you wait to tell him…”

Frankie cuts himself off. He doesn’t need to finish because I already fucking know what will happen. It’s just like the saying goes, you’re damned if you do, and you’re damned if you don’t. Me, well…I’m just damned. Frankie stands back up, continuing on with my hair. Shaking his head for a moment as if he were clearing his thoughts.

“Don’t judge, Frankie,” I whisper to him.

“Girl, do you know who you’re freaking talking to? I, for one, am not the judging kind.” He waves his index finger around in the air. “I will always have your back, girl. No matter what you decide. I will say this, though…”

He pops his hip out to the side, resting his hands on it.

“Tristy isn’t the easiest person to deal with. I honestly don’t know how he’ll react to the fact that he’s knocked you up.”

“Shit, Frankie. Neither do I.”

Frankie’s eyes soften at my confession, then hard lines appear on his forehead when he squints.

“He better not be a fucking dick, okay? I don’t care who he is, I will murder the sexy son of a bitch if he hurts you, girl.”

Giving Frankie a weak smile, I nod at him.

“I’m gonna tell him, I just can’t right now. I mean, I just fucking found out this morning…”

“Whenever you’re comfortable girl. I may not know a lot about this kind of thing, but I do know that you’re running on borrowed time. In the meantime, I got so many freaking ideas on hiding you. I mean, I doubt you’re gonna get that big and you only have seven weeks left with this tour so…”

Shit! I didn’t even think about showing. I can’t pinpoint yet when this all happened, but what I do know is, we started fucking again back in Hawaii. Counting back in my head, it kind of makes sense, since I had just gotten off my moontime before going out there.

Deep down, I know it’s not Benny’s. Tristan was always bare and Benny always, and I mean
always
, used condoms. I guess I should find a doctor or some shit to figure this out. But honestly, I already know in my heart that it’s Tristan’s. I was supposed to start two weeks ago and before Tristan and I hooked up again, it had been weeks before that, that I last slept with Benny.

Frankie is spinning me away from the mirror now. This is what he usually does halfway through. He always loves surprising me, but today I don’t need any more fucking surprises.

“I’m changing up your outfits tonight, too,” he says excitedly. “I figure we only have a matter of time before I can’t fit you in anything we have now.”

I notice that his eyes just twinkled at the last part. Shit! That’s right, I’m gonna get huge! Thank fuck I only have seven weeks left. We may just be able to pull it off.

“Girl…” Frankie’s voice cracks. “You’re gonna be a mommy.”

Suddenly, not worrying about the other shit, it is kind of cool that I have something going on inside of me right now. Frankie hurries up and wipes his eyes. That alone sets my tears to fall again.

“Just help me, all right?” I ask him. “I’m not ready to let anyone know yet, and I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

“Don’t you worry, girl. Frankie motherfucking Heart is here!” he says boldly as he fans his face so his tears doesn’t ruin his makeup.

“I’m okay.” He hurries and recovers himself. “I’m okay.”

“Frankie, stop. Please.” I try to laugh at him, but it still comes out as a fucking cry.

“No, Sophia. You’re having a baby. Shit!” he exclaims.

Yeah, I sure am. Tristan Scott’s baby, that is. Fuck! He’s going to be so pissed.

“Frankie, really, thank you for everything, but I just need to be numb right now.”

I can’t really handle this anymore. He nods at me quickly, knowing exactly what I mean. Before I know it, he’s grabbing my phone and starts going through it, walking over to the iPod deck that we always have set up. He sets the phone on it and then the In This Moment cover of Pantera’s
I’m Broken
plays, and I let myself go with the music.

Another hour passes and Frankie is finishing up with my makeup.

“I have something a little different in mind for tonight’s show,” he says as his eyes start scanning down the front of me.

“I thought wardrobe was set for this tour? I mean…”