Authors: Natalie Barnes
Everything I Have © 2015 Natalie Barnes
Cover Design/Photography © 2015 Picture This Photography and Design
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission by the author, except by a reviewer who may quote passages for review purposes only.
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Everything I Have
This story is a personal one for me and I would like to dedicate
Everything I Have
to all the mothers out there that maybe, at the time, weren’t quite expecting it. But once you heard that first heartbeat, and felt the first flutters, you fell instantly, head over heels in love.
No, maybe we didn’t plan it, and maybe, probably, were under the influence even at the time of conception, but no matter if you were ready for it or not, the love inside took over all fears.
This story is for all of you out there that maybe fell into some hard times with your first pregnancy.
With myself, a total state of pure panic.
“I’m only twenty-one! How am I going to do this?”
This one goes out to all of you.
We were not wrong for being scared or even regretful. We are humans and pretty damn strong to overcome and grow up in the blink of an eye.
Not necessarily because we had to.
But because once all the dust in our minds cleared… we wanted to.
More than wanted.
Once that takes over, we NEEDED to!
Funny how life works sometimes, isn’t it?
So again, to anyone out there that may have freaked out when that little test came back positive,
This is for you.
Birth control, my ass!
Panic starts to pulse through me. It really feels like my body is fucking shutting down, as if it can’t keep up with what my eyes are seeing right before me. Standing eerily still, I squeeze the plastic stick firmly with one hand as I use my right hand to brace myself up against the wall, afraid to let go in case I faint and crack my head on the mirror.
What in the fuck am I going to do?
I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here like this, working fiercely with my teeth on both my lips, ’til Tristan’s deep voice outside the door causes my body to jerk hard.
“You all right?”
The one person I don’t want to come face to face with right now is just outside the damn door. Pressing my hand over my heart, trying to steady it, I calm myself down. Well, calm wouldn’t be the best word here. More like trying my best not to come across as scared.
Looking back down at the stick, I quickly toss it on top of the grungy hand towel that’s beside the sink, balling it up before pitching it in my bag. My hands are shaking uncontrollably as I close up my bag, sliding the straps over my shoulder.
“Be right out, okay?” I choke out, pressing my body lightly against the door.
My body can
Tristan’s presence right through this door, which causes the blood to pound in my ears even louder.
Cold sweat starts to bead on my forehead. This can’t be fucking happening
Of course, when everything is starting to go smoothly, something happens. We still have a few weeks left over here before heading to Europe for four more and I think we have a two week break in between. Technically not a
, but still not going right to playing.
Can I just get through one fucking tour without something happening?!
With my head still bent down, my eyes begin to drift up the length of my reflection until I finally meet my own eyes staring back at me. In all the times I have ever checked myself out in the mirror, whether admiring myself before heading out for the evening or trying to fix red-rimmed eyes puffy from crying, I have never once looked so completely different than I do right fucking now.
I’m first drawn to my skin and how the color has drained from my complexion. I reach for the faucet. Cool water starts spraying out, sputtering a couple times because of the pump. Leaning over, I rub my hands together a few times, then I cup the water with my hands, splashing it against my face. I don’t even flinch at the coolness hitting my skin.
Beads of water start to trail down my face. I keep my head bent forward and away so that the water doesn’t drip down into my shirt. My body is already beginning to go into shock, as if it knows I need to be on autopilot while being around Tristan right now.
Running my hands up and down my jean clad thighs to dry them off, I bring them up to rub down my face, removing the excess water. My skin is still damp, but now it looks like I just washed my face.
Why would I just wash my face, though?
I was in the fucking shower an hour ago! Damn it! I honestly don’t have anything to fucking say right now.
I’m so fucking screwed! Where do I even start? How am I going to do this? I have never felt as lonely in my entire life as I do right now. My own fucking pity party, I guess, but it’s not exactly easy for me to go to Tristan and just blurt this shit out. I just need time to get some things straightened out before I can even go to him with something like this. First fucking thing I have to do is get out of here without passing out or breaking the fuck down.
Running my fingertips through the latch, I slide the door open smoothly. I wrap my other hand tightly around the straps of my bag, gripping it like it’s a freaking life vest or something. I don’t bother checking the aisle but instead, I take the few steps that it would normally take to get to my cove. Only now it feels like ten.
Swiftly opening the door, my heart stops instantly at the sight of Tristan, who is laid back with his ankles crossed and wearing only faded, ripped jeans unbuttoned at the top. Some moisture forms back in my mouth when my eyes catch that he has nothing going on under those jeans except his erection.
His deep voice draws out every syllable; the rich sound causing my core to instantly tighten in the most delicious, ‘I want to get lost in you but…
,’ kind of way.
How is it even possible that my body can feel two completely different things? His voice makes my insides tremble, stirring even more panic inside me that I now have to face him with. The other part completely wrecks me.
“You feeling all right?”
Tristan raises his right eyebrow in question. Abruptly I cool down, pulled out of my lustful daze and brought back to reality just as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown in my face- which is how I feel every time I think about the positive pregnancy test. Giving him a brief nod, I turn on my heel and make my way around the bed, trying to avoid any obvious slip ups.
I think all I did was make myself look even more suspicious. Shit! When I reach the other side of the bed, I feel the straps slip off my shoulder as the bag drops to the floor with a soft thud. Sitting at the edge of the bed with my back facing Tristan, I finally answer his question.
“Yeah, I’m feeling okay. Just a little headache.”
I glance over my shoulder to peek at him, and he’s facing me, lying on his side and using his left elbow to support his body. Worry etches its way over his handsome face. I suddenly feel even worse for keeping this from him, and it’s only been about twenty minutes or so! The headache part was definitely the truth, though. Stressing about this whole thing has created a fucking migraine. I just need to shut everything out right now; I just need to lie down.
Tristan leans in closer, gripping my shoulder gently with his right hand; he easily lays me back on the bed.
“You need to crash. We’ll be there in about five hours.”
My body gives in, sinking into the mattress effortlessly. Somehow in the middle of all this, I was able to completely forget we were playing tonight. My thoughts are so fucking scattered right now that I have no idea how I’m gonna pull this off.
By the way, where the fuck
we playing? My mind starts running, processing all of this. I shiver at the sudden feel of Tristan’s calloused fingertips, stroking lightly over my bare abdomen as he easily lifts my t-shirt up with his knuckles.
My nerves shift into overdrive as my skin hums at Tristan’s skillful touch. He knows exactly how to play my body, making me forget everything except what’s going on this very second. The way his fingertips feel, grazing achingly slowly over my heated skin feels so fucking good. Yet I’m still nervous, trying to stop my body from quivering.
I feel his lips brush against my ear.
The scruff on his face brushes faintly against the side of my cheek, igniting a trail of sharp heat.
A soft whimper escapes my lips as I try to gain control over my trembling body. I need to get a grip or I’m going to combust any second.
Tristan’s fingertips continue to run in small circles around my stomach, stroking slowly, running the tips over my belly button. The simple touch sends heat running through my veins. Fisting the sheet beneath me, Tristan’s dark eyes penetrate mine as the corner of his mouth takes on a sinister grin. His look alone has me turned on and ready for him. I’m fucking soaking wet. Part of me wants to rip his cock out and have him start slamming into me, but the other part loves this teasing torture.
Our lips are silent, and my breathing is growing heavier. I quietly pant as his hand descends lower, undoing the top button of my jeans. His eyes don’t let go of mine as he works the zipper down. He pushes himself off the arm he was leaning on and sits back lazily on his heels. His massive thighs strain against the soft, worn fabric of his jeans. Crossing his arms over his solid chest, he watches my eyes greedily devour him.
Tristan’s so cocky. He knows what he looks like, but
! What drives me fucking insane is the way his dark eyes stare back at me with the same hunger. I fucking get off on it… Tristan is my favorite high.
His tongue coats his lips with a thin film of saliva before his eyes consume every inch of me, going down until they meet with his hands as they fold back the waistband of my jeans, revealing that I’m wearing soft pink lace bikinis. Clenching his teeth, his Adam’s apple works up and down at the sight of them. My body still trembles. I know he’s about to come undone and I can’t wait.
Exhaling through his nose, he grabs the jeans on either side of my hips. I raise my hips as he tugs them down, but my ass catches onto the material. Tristan stops at the sudden pause and lets go of them. The coarse fabric of the jeans cuts into me as it rests in the middle of my flesh.
The restraint forces my thighs to stay pressed together, which pushes the flesh of my ass over the top of it. Leaning over me, he rests both of his large hands on either side of my middle, his forearms tightening as he holds himself up.
Still not saying anything, he lowers himself just enough so that I feel his hot breath dancing over my skin, feathering right above my pubic bone. He runs his tongue deliberately and slowly up to my belly button, pressing his tongue gently inside before sitting up and going back to leaning on his heels, crossing his arms loosely as his gaze drags over me again.
The front of my shirt has hiked up to my breasts and my pussy is almost completely bared to him; only a delicate, moist piece of fabric serves as a barrier. My inner thighs start to glisten with my arousal. I don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed. I love Tristan knowing what effect he has over me.
I can’t keep watching him stare at me; it’s too much to handle right now. The sight of him checking me out has me completely, sexually, wrecked. My hips start to softly sway on the bed, needing any kind of relief as he purposely takes his fucking time with me. Tristan is in rare form. He may start off with a sensual tease like this, but that usually lasts only a hot second before he loses himself and fucks me.
Running my tongue over my lips, I blow out a frustrated breath, closing my eyes tightly as I try to relax myself more into the mattress.
“My girl can’t handle this?”
His throaty laugh instantly sends hot volts crashing to my core… and he’s not even touching me.
My body can’t keep up with this anymore; I need any part of him, on me or inside me. Still keeping my eyes closed, I raise my chin as my head falls back on the bed.
“Just fuck me already. Please…” I beg breathlessly.
“Not this time, Sophia.”
I feel his hot lips press the thin material as he grips the sides of my jeans again, removing them with the same torturing speed as before.
“I fucking love seeing you writhe under me like this, Sophia… all hot and aching for my dick. It’s the most beautiful fucking thing I have ever seen.”
Oh my God.
His words cause my core to ache even more, but then the image of a full on baby growing inside me flashes through my mind… and I shut down.
What the fuck?
I know my girl was aching for it; that if I even fucking blew on her hot pussy, she would be coming. I keep my eyes locked on hers as I finish pulling the last piece over her ankle. My dick twitches at the sight of her full hips and those long, smooth legs as I finally get a good look at my girl. I should be worried that something’s caused her to shift, but I can be a selfish man, and when my girl is in front of me like this, well… what can I say? My cock gets fucking greedy.
I can’t stop touching her now, needing to touch every inch of her silky skin. When I bring my hands up to her knees, her body suddenly twitches. She’s nervous about something. I can feel it coming off her.
I’ll make sure to get to whatever the fuck reason she’s suddenly different later, but right now, all I can think about is fucking my girl. She clumsily sits up, trying not to make eye contact with me. Whatever. I’m just gonna have to fuck whatever is going on in that pretty little head of hers right out.
“Take off your shirt,” I grit out, trying to distract the both of us.
Pushing myself off this tiny, uncomfortable as fuck bed, I step back as I draw my zipper down. Fisting my cock as I kick off my jeans to the side, I watch Sophia scoot that fine ass over to the edge of the bed, timidly opening her thighs to me. Rolling her neck slowly to the side, she finally lets her head fall back, long, thick, soft brown hair spilling over her shoulders.
“Look at me, Sophia.”
Those deep blue eyes glaze over as she tries to focus on me. My girl looks drunk. Fuck!
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, you know that?” I growl at her.
She just watches me and I all I can fucking focus on is the way those perfect tits of hers move with every deep breath she takes. But I know her mind is still running and all I want to do right now is get out whatever shit is in her head.