Everything I Have (Everything I Want #3) (8 page)

“I guess I’m gonna check it out, too,” I say to Frankie, who is finishing packing up his things.

“Okay, girl. I’ll meet you at the hotel tonight. I guess everyone is going to hit up some different places tonight. We should go.”

Ah,
I hate fake drinking, but I can’t hide myself away, either. My infection lie has to come to an end now or they will get even more suspicious. Oh well, not going to worry about that now. I’ll do that later.

“Sounds good.”

I lean in and give him a peck on the check. Frankie coos for a second before going back.

“See ya later. Thanks!” I call over my shoulder.

“Yep. See you later, girl.”

I climb down the steps. It’s a pretty fucking nice day out for fall. It’s in the high seventies. But still, the light mugginess of the heat hits my skin as I take the last step out. Damn, that’s going to be uncomfortable later when we go on. I’m going to have to find Steve and see if he will set up some more waters for me.

Walking up closer to the stage, Eyes Set to Kill are jamming
Broken Frames
. Not even noticing it, my head begins to bang to the music as I hear the crowd. Like I said, the energy… it's fucking great! When they start winding up, Matt comes up beside me.

“Almost us.”

Looking over at him, I grin.

“Yep.”

He now looks over at me too, grinning just as wide.

“This is fucking sweet, hey?” Matt asks.

Nodding my head at him, I stare back out at the crowd.

“So um, we’re bar hopping tonight,” he says hesitantly, his light blue eyes staring down at me with concern. “Would you want to go? I mean, are you feeling better, that is?”

Smiling up at him, I reach in and give a quick squeeze to his bicep.

“Yeah, I am. I’ll be out.”

I don’t know how I’ll pull this off yet, but something tells me that I should be out tonight. Matt nods his head.

“Cool.”

“Hey, I got some smoke if you wanna have some before we go on.”

My smiling fading slightly, I cover it up quickly by grinning even wider at him, lying.

“Nah, thanks. Just had some. Don’t want to be too dry out there.”

I spit a small, kind of foamy amount onto the dirt ground, pretending to barely get any spit out of my mouth. Don’t ask me why, but my guys know how high I am by how dry my mouth is. Even if weed is supposed to be good for that, it still dries me up.

Matt uses the side of his hand and laughs at me,

“All right.” He nods again. “I’m gonna go and hit this real quick.” He points to his front jean pocket, indicating where the weed must be. “I’ll be ready in five.”

He leans in and gives me a quick peck on top of my head before walking away to smoke. Gawd, I wish I could go right with him. Damn it.

As I watch Matt walk off in the distance, a sly smirk forms on my lips when I hear Tristan’s deep voice behind me.

“No fucking bra?”

Fucking figures. Still smiling, I try the playful eye roll. My nice way of saying,
“fuck you.”
  Folding my arms over my middle, I squint up at him, bummed out that I left my sunglasses on the bus.

“Hi.”

“What’s this?”

He nods his chin up the length of me. Uncrossing my arms, I let them fall to my sides as I glance down at myself, shrugging causally when I do.

“What’s, what?” I ask back in annoyance.

When I look back up at him, Tristan's face is impassive.
Great.

“I know it’s for the show and all, but Christ, Sophia. At least put a damn bra on.”

“I’m fucking sure I've worn shit way less revealing then this.”

“Your fucking nipples were never showing!” he yells back at me, causing me to flinch.

Fuck. I hope no one around notices. Not breaking eye contact with Tristan, I glare back up at him.

“Fuck you.” I raise my hand. “My tits aren’t showing. And so what if they were?” I shrug, waving my hands up and down my body. “A whole lotta chicks wear way fucking less than this.”

“My girl doesn’t show her
fucking
nipples!” he spits out through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched. He steps in so we’re just a breath away from each other, his voice so low, my skin radiates chills. “Damn it, Sophia. Listen.”

His eyes are dark with warning as I stare at him. Fuck that!

I step up on my tiptoes and circle my arms around his neck so I can whisper in his ear.

“I’m yours. Your cock is mine,” I murmur seductively.

I run my right hand down his neck and over his chiseled-as-sin chest, not stopping until I feel him under his jeans. Already getting hard. Good.

“My pussy is yours.”

I run my tongue slowly up his jaw to right below his ear. Softly sucking his earlobe into my mouth, I give it a teasing bite. Right when Tristan tries to wrap his arms around me, I step back. Tom is approaching us with his clipboard; it’s time for me to get up there. Tristan slowly shakes his head 'no' at me. But all I do is give him a big grin before leaving for the stage.

How this entered my head, I don’t fucking know. Tristan’s obviously going to be pissed at me, but I do know one thing for sure. He’s hard for me. Good! That’s what he gets if he thinks he can just take over whenever he wants. I don’t fucking think so. I’m not mad, really. I’m just going to have fun with him for awhile. My body hums in vengeful delight.

Chapter Eight

Tristan

Stubborn fucking female. I swear to Christ. I clench my teeth so damn hard, my jaw starts to ache. The band plays the heavy intro, banging their heads and getting the audience psyched. Any minute Sophia is going to be prancing around the stage with her fucking tits in full glory, bouncing.
Goddamn.
My dick throbs just thinking about those full, mouthwatering tits of hers.

Then, she sings. Her voice is raw, dark and beautiful, blacking out all of this sudden bullshit. This woman holds my entire fucking being in the palm of her tiny hand, probably not even knowing that she can crush me to rubble. Sophia leans over her bended knee as she sings harder into the mic.

Fuck! Now, I can easily fucking remember the bullshit from earlier. Glaring at her, I watch my girl bang her head in circles, long, dark brown hair whirling around her frame. That fucking causes her tits bounce more. Standing still, a little better. Sophia covers her forehead with her hand as she scans the perimeter of the stage, clearly looking for me.

Crossing my arms, I kind of want to laugh at her 'I don’t give a fuck' streak. I’m going to pound the fuck out of her sweet pussy later. When she finds me, her smile widens, showing all her perfect white teeth. Her eyes light up as she continues to sing, still grinning at me. The shirt is kind of loose, but with tits like Sophia's, it doesn’t matter. As she leans in more, the left side slips off her shoulder.

I really can’t explain what happens next, exactly. Rage boils inside me, but I just stand there and take it like Sophia’s good little bitch, but what I got in mind for her, sends electricity up my spine and right to my dick.

Running my tongue over my lips, I press them in my mouth as I scan the sea of people. Fuck, maybe I can’t. Knowing it would be for the better, not only for me, but for Sophia or some dumbass that tries to do anything, I step off to the side. One of the backstage security bumps into me as he hurries his way past me.

“Sorry,” he nods and keeps going.

Not bothering to give him eye contact, I wrap my hand around the metal railing, swinging my body around as I take two steps up at a time.

Sophia’s voice grows louder the closer I am to getting to her. Reaching the top landing, I’m about ten feet off the side of the stage. I notice Caleb leaning against the wall with his foot propped up on it, headbanging.

Folding my arms over my chest, I roll my neck back to relieve some of the tension my girl put there. Caleb looks over at me, a smart ass grin plastered on his fucking metal face. He wiggles his eyebrows at me before going back to headbanging. I turn my glare from him to Sophia, but it cracks as my lip curls up at what’s to come.

By the time Sophia and the guys are finishing up their set, Gunner steps up beside me, twirling his drum sticks through his fingers.

“Hey, man!” he yells over the music, lifting his chin up at me for a quick nod.

“Woo!” Sophia screams. “That was fucking awesome. Thanks!”

Then she steps away from the mic and starts fucking bouncing again, facing my way. She is so fucking bold right now. Something definitely has gotten into her. Standing with my arms still crossed, I glare down at her with my lip curled. Sophia’s blue eyes scan my crossed arms and she rolls her eyes at me with a bright smile on her beautiful face. Damn. Don’t fucking crack.

“Baby, what?”

She wraps her arms around my middle and I just have to hold her, feel her. Lifting my arms up so she can fit into me better, I snake my arms around her entire upper body, pressing her soft curves into my chest. Fuck, she smells so good. I’m not going to say anything to her; I just want to hold her.

“Tristan, one minute!” Tom calls before handing Dave his guitar.

“Please don’t be mad, Tristan,” she whispers. “You’re gonna have to just chill out sometimes.”

She pulls away from me and reaches in so her hands cup my cheeks, so strong for just a tiny thing. She pulls me down to her and kisses me. I can’t stop. I want more of her, but I know that will fuck up the punishment I have planned for later. So, as hard as it fucking is right now, I step back and give her a quick nod before walking past her and onto the stage.

I can’t look back to see her reaction, but I’m pretty goddamn sure she’s pissed right now. I let out a throaty laugh as my band jams while I casually step up to the mic. Taking it in my fist, I start wailing out the lyrics to another new track,
Hate Within
.

I have to pause for a minute when Gunner’s solo comes up. Taking a step back, one of the roadies hands me a bottle of Jack. With the mic in one hand, I bring the bottle up to my lips, taking a shot before handing it back. I wince as I run my hand across my mouth. Before the crowd can see me, I start wailing again as I walk back out, barely noticing my throat burning from the liquor and screaming.

After a few more songs and a few more shots, it’s time for Sophia to suffer. If she’s even around, that is. After I left her hanging, I made damn sure not to look over that way. Maybe she had enough after the first song. Shit. But as I look over to my right, there’s my girl, pissed. She’s so fucking sexy when she’s pissed off. I wink at her. Knowing my every move, she grins even wider like she knows I’m going to be giving her a mouthful when this shit is all over.

Turning back to the crowd, I cock my head to the side, fucking already dripping in sweat.

“I think we need to do a shot!”

Screams and claps erupt. I hear the guys laughing behind me.

“One step ahead of you, man.”

Caleb comes walking up to me, holding out his bottle of Southern Comfort. The crowd chants, wanting us to do a shot. Raising the bottle in the air, I tip my chin up before swigging from it. Baring my teeth after the hit of alcohol stings my throat, I look over and Sophia’s eyes are crystal splinters. Her crossed arms push up her shirt so her entire belly is showing. Goddamn.

Keeping my eyes on her, I hand the booze back to Caleb and walk across the stage toward her. Then, without thinking, I bring my hands up to my chest and tear my shirt open, the mic still in my hand.

Sophia’s eyes widen and her lips part. Caleb starts jamming on his guitar. Turning suddenly, I jump up on one of the steps they have up front, scanning the backs of security and the faces of many behind them. Shit, even tits. But that gets old so fucking quick.

By the time we finish, I’m dripping sweat and pretty fucking buzzed. My chest tightens when I step off and my girl isn’t around. She probably had to get ready, but I have a gritty taste in my mouth about something. Fuck.

“Dude!”

Caleb slaps my back, handing me the bottle of SoCo.

“Christ,” I mumble when I grab it from him, taking another shot.

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

Sophia

“Oh, my angels in the shiny heavens… that was total fuckness!”

Frankie fans himself when I storm offstage. Fucking Tristan. Not a big deal about the chest, even though I hate that my core is clenched tighter than it’s ever fucking been before, seeing him up there. But getting wasted on top of that? I know he’s just fucking acting like this because I didn’t listen to him.

“Frankie, calm down.”

I look over my shoulder at him as he tries to catch up. Fucking losing his footing and stumbling.

“Oh girl, please,” he laughs behind me. “You’re so turned on right now you can’t see straight.”

Yeah, well, okay. But I’m still irritated as hell, too. By the time I reach my bus, Frankie steps in front of me, stopping me. Giving me a sly smirk, he opens the door and bows before me, waving me in.

“Thanks,” I say back to him suspiciously, eyeing him as he keeps his head bent.

Once I step into the bus, Frankie leaps in, swiftly swinging the door shut.

“Girl, crack some windows. I need a buzz.”

Frankie pulls out a joint from his t-shirt pocket. Gawd, a joint. My eyes fall in sadness as Frankie pops the end of it into his mouth as he steps over to the door.

“I’m just gonna stand out here,” he mumbles with the joint in his mouth. He points outside. “Come over here, though, so it doesn’t look like I’m fucking talking to myself.”

Smiling at Frankie, I take a seat on the coffee table, crossing my legs as he props the screen open.

“So nice out here,” he breathes out with the smoke, taking in his surroundings.

“I bet,” I pout as I rest my chin on my knuckles, watching every hit Frankie takes. My mouth waters whenever I catch wind of the pot. “Frankie?”

“Yeah, girl?”

He goes cross-eyed as he looks down at the joint he’s bringing back up to his lips. Running my tongue over my own lips, I sit up straight.

“Gawd, Frankie. Describe it to me.”

After taking another hit, his eyebrows pinch together as he cocks his head.

“Describe what?”

“That!” I point at the joint in his hand.

“Oh, this.” He lifts it up higher and starts giggling. “Oh, girl. Come on.”

He rolls his eyes at me, smiling when he takes another hit. I plead him with my eyes so he knows I’m dead serious. Call me a pothead, or whatever have you. Up until a week ago, I would’ve said,
so
? But now I’m done, and holy shit, I miss it.

As the joint burns down to a roach, Frankie moans.

“Mmm…it’s so good.”

He tries to lick his lips but now his tongue is sticking to them, causing him to laugh even more. He’s so stoned.

“So,” he says to me when he’s done laughing at himself, pinching the cherry of the smoke. “I guess something is going on back here tonight, too, for those that are staying.”

He steps back in, reeking of pot.

“Everyone is pretty much drunk already, so do you want me to get something for you, or just clean your face up a little bit?”

Getting up, I walk around Frankie and head for the fridge, pulling another water out.

“I think I’m going to sleep tonight.”

“Oh, shut up,” he laughs. “I’ll pull out my mini grill and we can have a barbecue out here before mingling around. Now that you’re sober, you can watch other musicians do some pretty funny shit and laugh at them.”

He giggles behind his fingers. After taking a long drink, I nod my head at him.

“Fine, but let me go pee first.”

“That’s nice,” he says teasingly with a closed mouth smile.

Playfully rolling my eyes at him, I head for the bathroom. 

It’s almost five and everything is starting to turn orange. The sun’s already setting. I hate that it’s so dark this time of year. I bumped into Matt again, only this time, he had his pick of the night hanging off his arm. Haven’t seen Roger yet, but I’m pretty sure I heard him. Behind the stage there are so many booths and tents set up for us with beverages, snacks, and radio personnel. Farther back are the buses, and even at some of them, something’s going on. It’s intense back here; it’s awesome.

“Hey girl, let me grab something to drink real quick.” Frankie nudges my shoulder with his as he sprints off to the beer tent. “This will just have to do, ’til I get back and make a real drink.”

He checks out the beer foaming over his cup before he takes a drink. An appreciative sound comes from his lips.

“Oh, that’s nice. I was so parched.” He licks the foam off his lips.

A whole damn hour goes by and now it’s dark. At first, I was having fun laughing at Frankie and meeting quite a few kickass people. Now, though, I’m starting to feel a wave of unease take in my gut. I pull on Frankie’s t-shirt so he can hear me better.

“Frankie, have you seen any of the guys?”

“No, why?”

He quirks his eyebrow up at me as he takes another drink. Lucky bastard. Blowing out a breath, I look the other way.

“Nothing,” I mumble to myself.

Fuck, where is Tristan? Frankie pats my head like a puppy and leans in.

“Come on, let’s go find Tristy.”

He giggles again, then says bye to a younger woman with pitch black hair, wearing a tight, red flannel shirt. I’ve seen her before; I think she’s someone else’s stylist. Frankie squeezes my hand and then pulls on it for me to follow behind him, shaking his hips as he leads me out of the area.

“See? He’s probably over there.” Frankie tips his head to the side. “Caleb and Gunner are over there.”

Peeking around Frankie, I see Caleb’s back first. Shirtless with practically every inch covered in tattoos. As I look closer, I notice a few chicks standing by, and for some reason, I’m jealous as fuck right now.

Running my free hand through my hair and giving it a quick tousle at the top, I hear Caleb slur at me.

“Hey, you…”

His eyes squint as he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, biting on the side ring.

“What’s up?” I ask, smirking back at him, really not caring as my eyes scan the group in front of us. That’s when I see Tristan staring back at me with that look in his eyes. The one that picks up my pulse. I let out a long breath. Shit.