Say You're Mine (The Gallaghers Book 1) Read online

Page 11


  “Zero,” I growled. Fucking hell, how can I be this possessive?

  She grinned. “Thought so.” She looked around, clearly wanting to change the subject. “So I’m one of the few you allow in your fortress, huh?”

  “It’s funny, my Mom calls it that too.”

  “Do they visit often?”

  “Every few months. They were supposed to come next month but changed their mind. Mom’s sixty-fifth birthday is coming up, and she said planning the party is taking up a lot of time.”

  “Oh, she’s going to have a big celebration, then?”

  “Sounds like it. Wish I could attend.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “Last time I went home, we had an incident with the press. It wasn’t pretty. I don’t want to risk ruining her birthday party.”

  She looked at me for a few moments, pressing her lips together.

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “No, actually. She said she’d be happy if I came.”

  “See? I don’t think it means she’s not aware of that risk. I just think she wants to see you despite that.”

  I frowned, considering her words.

  “I can feel the wheels spinning,” she said, tapping my temple. “Am I giving you dangerous ideas, Mr. Rock Star?”

  “Very dangerous.”

  “Oh good. Then I’m doing my job. Want to show me around?”

  “Sure. Are you done eating?”

  She pointed to the empty wrappers. “What do you think?”

  Taking her hand, I showed her every room, starting with the empty guest room. On the way to the master bedroom, we passed my rehearsal room, which was right next to it.

  Isabelle opened the door, peeking inside.

  “Oh, wow. You didn’t tell me you had a piano here too.”

  “Of course I do. It’s where I do most of my composing.”

  Isabelle walked inside, touching the wooden frame. “It’s a bit different than the one at the cottage.”

  “Yeah it is.”

  I placed my hands at her sides, lifting her and seating her atop the piano. She clenched her ankles around me, tugging at my shirt to pull me closer. I tipped my mouth to hers, wanting to devour her right here on this piano. I pushed her dress up her legs. She squirmed, giving me enough space to move the fabric past her ass and to her waist.

  “I’ve wanted you on the piano ever since Lars’s party.” I spoke against her lips while yanking the dress over her head.

  She grinned. “Great minds think alike. I was wondering how we could bypass Lars’s rule... but you have your own piano here. So convenient.”

  I captured her mouth, pulling her to the very edge of the piano. She parted her legs wider, giving me enough space to explore her all I wanted.

  “I’ll have you on the piano at the cottage too. I’ll have you everywhere.” My voice was thick and rough. I wanted to claim and explore, to bury myself so deep inside her that she couldn’t even breathe past the pleasure.

  She rested on her elbows, legs wide apart. I touched her pussy over the fabric. Isabelle was so responsive, and I loved that about her. She threw her head back, clenching her thighs, trying to control her need. I cocked a brow, nudging them apart again. I watched as she licked her lips before swallowing hard. She was fucking beautiful in her red panties, spread open on my piano. A hint of vulnerability passed in her eyes, and I stepped closer, tilting over her and covering her mouth with mine. I kissed her long and deep until she shuddered.

  “Want me to sing something just for you?” I whispered against her mouth. I knew she’d like it, and I had this insatiable urge to keep her happy.

  A slow smile spread on her face as she nodded. I took a step back, then sat down in front of the keys. I wanted to show her everything that meant something to me. I liked letting her in, like this was how it was supposed to be.

  But a question suddenly started to roll around in my mind: How the hell was I supposed to let her walk out of my life once the tour started?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brayden

  The next morning, I woke up to the sound of someone moving around nearby. I blinked my eyes open, reaching for the other side of the bed. It was empty.

  “Isabelle?” I asked in a thick voice, looking around the room.

  She peeked out of the bathroom. “You’re up.” She darted out, running straight for me and crawling in the bed. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry. I tried to be quiet.”

  She’d already put on the dress from yesterday. She straddled me, running her palms over my chest, then tracing that same path with her mouth.

  I groaned, gripping her hips. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting my fill of you before I go.”

  God, I adored her. I couldn’t restrain another growl; she had me where she wanted me.

  She smirked. “I see. All I get are groans and that smoldering look. Is it too early in the day for seducing?”

  She continued to kiss a straight line between my abs, down to my navel, then back up.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Seven o’clock.”

  I groaned again, pulling her up. “I’m not a morning person.”

  “I can see that. I was planning to sneak out of here without waking you up because you seemed to be in a deep sleep.”

  I moved my hands up and down her legs. My thumbs brushed the sensitive skin on her inner thighs. She shimmied right over my cock.

  “I stand corrected. You are good at this seduction thing, even though you’re half asleep.”

  “Good? I’m excellent.”

  Before she had a chance to reply, I toppled her sideways. She crashed onto the mattress with a laugh, pushing a pillow under her head.

  “Don’t go,” I said.

  She pouted. “I have to. My first client is arriving in an hour.”

  “I didn’t get enough of you last night.” I pulled her under my body, smiling against her shoulder at how easily she gave in to me. She wanted to stay just as much as I wanted her here.

  “I can feel your smile. Why so smug?” she whispered.

  “You’re not putting up much of a fight.”

  “Well, you’re still out to prove how excellent your seduction skills are in the morning. It wouldn’t be fair not to give you that opportunity.”

  I laughed, kissing down her neck, bunching the fabric of her dress in my hand until I reached her skin.

  “Okay, okay. You win. No need to get me hot and bothered or I’ll be late for my client.”

  I wasn’t ready to let her climb out of the bed, let alone leave the penthouse. But I respected that she was on a schedule. I was so used to the musician lifestyle that I couldn’t wrap my mind around having strict working hours every day. The concert schedule was brutally intense, but the rest of the time was relatively laid-back. I made sure to pencil in enough rehearsal time with the guys, but I was free otherwise.

  I put on a shirt and boxers, brushing my teeth quickly before walking her to the door.

  “Do you want coffee before you go?” I asked.

  “No, I’m running late already.”

  “Okay, I’ll ping the concierge and ask if the coast is clear. Paul will drive you.”

  Isabelle’s eyes widened as I pressed the button connecting me to him.

  “Good morning, Edward. All good downstairs?”

  I didn’t need to tell him my name. He could see on his phone where the call came from.

  “Good morning. We’ve got a lot of press camped out in front of the building. It seems more are arriving right now. I don’t think you should go out at the moment. They’re also in front of the garage.”

  I swore, shaking my head. Isabelle frowned.

  “Let me know when they leave,” I told him.

  “Will do, sir.”

  I punched the button disconnecting the call.

  Isabelle bit her lower lip. “Okay... this is unexpected. Why do you think they’re downstairs?”

  “I
don’t know. I’ll talk to Sasha and see what she knows. Is there any way you can move your first appointment, at least?”

  “No, I don’t want to do that. She looks forward to our weekly meetings. Maybe I can do an online session with her from my phone. We’ve done that when things were tight before and she couldn’t make it to my office. Let me text her.”

  She took the phone out of her bag, typing quickly.

  I was pissed. I’d hoped the media would stay out of my life until the concerts started, which was typically when their interest in my private life soared. I’d wanted more time with Isabelle before this insane part of my life would scare her away.

  “Okay, this works. She says she hasn’t left home yet. But it would be better if I had my laptop. I have a file for each client, and I like to review it before starting each session and add notes during or after the session.”

  “I’ll tell Paul to go get it for you.”

  Isabelle perked up. “Really? It’s in my office, on the desk. I have the key with me. Can he come up here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, I just remembered. My brothers have a copy. He could get it from them, if it’s easier.”

  “I’ll coordinate everything. When’s your second appointment?”

  “Ten minutes after the first one ends, so in one hour and forty-five minutes.”

  “I’ll get you the laptop by then,” I promised.

  “Perfect. Then I’ll do the first one on my phone.” She looked around the living room, pointing to a corner of the sofa. “I’m claiming that as my work spot.”

  “Whatever the lady wants.”

  She batted her eyelashes. “I like the sound of that.”

  I gripped her hips from behind, walking with her like that toward the couch.

  “I know it’s selfish, but I’m happy you can’t leave,” I admitted.

  She chuckled, tilting her head to one side, baring her neck. I kissed the soft skin there until she shuddered in my arms.

  “It’s terribly bad, but I kind of like it too,” she whispered. When we reached the couch, she turned around, pushing me away with one finger. “Now, don’t go unleashing those excellent seduction skills. I need my mind clear for the session.”

  “Oh, now you’re agreeing that they’re excellent?”

  She shrugged one shoulder, smiling playfully. “I didn’t want to admit it right away. Might give you the impression you have lots and lots of power over me.”

  Gripping her waist, I pulled her flush against my torso. I kissed her lower lip, moving slowly from one corner to the other, savoring her. Goose bumps covered her arms.

  I leaned in sideways, brushing my lips on her earlobe.

  “I think the case is settled,” I whispered before planting a quick kiss on her neck.

  “No! No it’s not.”

  “Want some more evidence?”

  “Lots. But not right now. I need a clear mind for the session, remember?”

  “Vaguely.”

  She sat on the corner of the couch with her legs tucked next to her.

  “You’re not going to make it easy for me to work, are you?”

  “You’ve pegged me all wrong. I want you to be productive.” I wanted her to never leave the penthouse, but I didn’t say it out loud. It sounded crazy even in my own mind, but that was the effect Isabelle had on me. She made me want crazy things I hadn’t even considered before. “But since you’re here, I’m going to spoil you all day long.”

  “Oooh, that sounds dangerous.”

  I brought her coffee but moved to the bedroom once her call started, wanting to give her privacy with her client. I took my phone from the rehearsal room, where I always left it overnight, and saw I had a message from Sasha at six o’clock in the morning.

  Sasha: Heads-up, the press got wind you’re seeing someone. You’ve been photographed with Isabelle coming out of the cottage. You can’t see her face in the pic, so they don’t know her identity yet, but this will make waves for sure!

  I swore, clenching my fingers tightly around the phone. I had to talk to Isabelle, but first I called Paul, arranging the pickup for her laptop. He was already in the area, waiting to drive her, so a few minutes later, the plan was in motion. Paul came for the keys. Isabelle was going to have her laptop in an hour.

  The question was, how long was it going to take for the press to get bored and leave? I’d experienced everything from them sticking around for two or three hours to them spending an entire day and night in front of my building.

  It had been a very long time since I’d been photographed with anyone. The media was rabid, and this was new, so their payout was big. Damn it! This was exactly the kind of thing that would get people to click. Unfortunately, I knew the truth of it all—they’d stick around for a while, I was sure of that.

  I made a few calls, to Sasha and then the guys, so I could get a better feeling of the situation. None of my bandmates had any press outside their homes. Sasha was trying to track down all the pictures to see if there were any that revealed Isabelle’s identity. Sometimes tabloids didn’t post their best photo from the get-go. They wanted to drum up excitement before going all out, which kept people buying.

  I wanted to be prepared for any scenario, protect Isabelle any way I could. Thomas was the most sympathetic to the situation and a great help.

  “Dude, this can be uncomfortable, especially for Isabelle. They drove Cami nuts.”

  I remembered that only too well. They nearly broke up because of it.

  “I’m trying to stay calm.”

  “If it helps, Cami could talk to Isabelle, give her some tips. The situation is similar, since Cami was almost an average citizen.”

  “Almost” being the operative word. Cami had been a TV show host a few years ago and knew the ropes.

  “Think she’d be okay with that? I’d really appreciate it, and I think Isabelle will like it. That’s a good idea. Thanks, man.”

  After finishing the conversation, I took a shower, then spent some time in the rehearsal room to kill the next half hour. I waited to go into the living room until I didn’t hear Isabelle’s voice anymore, which meant she’d finished the session.

  “Hello, handsome,” she whispered when I stepped inside the room. “What news do you have for me?”

  “Paul is on his way with his laptop. Can you do all your sessions today online?”

  “You think the reporters will be out there the whole day?”

  I sat next to her on the couch, pulling her feet in my lap.

  “I don’t know. Probably not. But it’s a good excuse to keep you here all day.”

  A smile inched on her face. “You’re terrible.”

  I pulled her toward me until her thighs and then her ass were in my lap. She turned around clumsily, trying to prop her knees at the side of my thighs. She lost her balance, nearly tumbling backward. I caught her, one hand on her waist, the other on her back.

  She smiled sheepishly, clasping my shoulders tightly.

  “Oops.”

  “I’ve got you.”

  “My hero.” Grinning, she shimmied in my lap. “My dirty hero.”

  “Why dirty?”

  She glanced at her ass. I’d slipped my hands down there without even noticing.

  “Just keeping you safe,” I insisted, trying to keep my voice steady.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Aha! Sure...”

  “You didn’t answer about the sessions. Can you do them from here?”

  “Well, since I don’t have sessions with brand-new clients today, I think that’ll work. I’ll contact my appointments and see if they mind doing them online.”

  “You think some won’t want to?”

  “Well, if they can’t get privacy, they might cancel. But I don’t think they will. Most of the clients who come during the day are self-employed or work from home, so they’re flexible. And those who come from their workplace, in the evening, can just as well go home for our appointment.”

  I nodded
, relieved. I’d only been semi-joking about why I wanted her here.

  I could keep her safe in the penthouse. No one could come upstairs without my permission. I wanted her here until we knew for sure if the press had gotten pictures that they could use to identify her.

  “It’s settled, then,” I concluded.

  She held up a finger. “Not so fast. I have some conditions. First, I want to be spoiled with a delicious lunch. And if I’m here long enough, dinner too. And a foot massage or two in between.”

  I laughed, kissing her chin. “Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything?”

  “Hmmm... I might be, but I’m not sure what.”

  I continued to kiss her, moving up to her cheek. “I’ll gladly show you.”

  She giggled when I lowered her backward, slowly kissing down her neck. We only had a few minutes until her next session started, and I was determined to make the most of them.

  I’d never liked having anyone over. For as long as I could remember, the penthouse was the place where I came to be on my own.

  But now... all I wanted was to keep her here.

  ***

  Her calls with clients lasted well into the evening. She moved to the bedroom for the last one to have complete silence. I’d ordered food, then set the table while waiting for it to arrive.

  She joined me in the living room at seven thirty.

  “Yum, it smells delicious,” she exclaimed. “Is that bruschetta?”

  “Yes. I ordered from my favorite Italian restaurant.”

  She peeked at the table, pouting. “No pizza?”

  “No, it doesn’t taste as good when it’s not fresh out of the oven. But trust me, their bruschetta and pasta are delicious.”

  “Oh, I do trust you.”

  She cocked her head to the right and the left. I pulled out a chair for her, and after she sat down, I massaged her neck and shoulders.

  She sighed, dropping her head back, looking at me upside down. “You’re so good at this. I want more of it, but I’m also starving.”

  I gave her a quick kiss before going to my own chair opposite her. “Let’s eat. And then you can have more of everything you want.”