Brazen and Breathless (Untouchable #6) - Heather Long Page 0,31
times.
The twisting of the notes acted like a tease, hopeful and melancholy all at once, until we came together at the end and then it was just filled with life. A tear slipped out of my eye as the last note fell away, and then Ian let out a whoop.
“Yes!”
I sniffed as he did a fist pump and then dragged me to him for a rough and sweet kiss.
“Perfect, Angel. Absolutely perfect.”
“It’s all you,” I laughed in between nipping bites. “Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he reminded me with another fierce kiss, and then he shut off the recording and started packing up the guitars. My heart was full, and my mind a little dazed. A minute later, the song filtered over the speakers, and I stared over at him as he closed the case.
That was us.
Singing together.
He grinned.
“See? What did I tell you?”
I pressed a finger to my lips in a shushing motion. It was one thing to sit there and sing it with him. It was something else altogether to hear how we sounded. Was that even us? The real depth of emotion in Ian’s voice always blew me away, but each time I joined in or took over for a line or two on my own, it was like listening to a stranger.
Who was the girl who sounded like that?
How the hell was she me?
When the song wound to the end, Ian caught my hands and pulled me to my feet. “You,” he said, “are amazing.”
“It just—it’s good, right?” I almost wanted to believe it.
“It’s better than good, Angel. It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I was going for, and that’s going to be in the first three tracks I send them.”
I blinked. “You have two already done?”
At his sly smile, I groaned. “You recorded our other practice sessions.”
“Yep,” he said, very pleased with himself. “I needed you to believe in yourself, and until then, I was happy to do it for both of us. Want to hear them?”
I was torn between outrage and delight. Embarrassment and pleasure. The level of caring was enough to make me want to cry. “Yes!” I admitted, then he pulled me over to the sound board, and I settled on his thigh as he queued up the songs.
And sure enough, there we were, singing some ridiculous and playful version of one of my favorite Torched songs. It took this moving melody about a lost girl and turned it into a romp about a girl who wanted to be lost, even as he kept trying to corral me back.
Me. Not just some girl.
It was about me. And it was about Ian.
Each of the songs we’d done had some element of an emotional connection. Head tucked against his shoulder, I tried to listen as uncritically as possible, and still, I couldn’t stop the warmth stealing through me. Ian did all this because he loved me.
He loved me, and he loved sharing his music with me.
I wanted to kind of just stay right here in this moment forever. The guys kept doing things like this. Little stealth ambushes full of affection and caring. I didn’t think I could love them more, and they kept proving me wrong.
After we listened to all three, I traced a pattern against his arm and studied the way the muscles flexed as he turned it off.
“Well?” he asked after a really long moment as I tried to find the words to tell him what it all meant.
“I love you,” was the best I could do, and I lifted my gaze to his. “It’s…beautiful. You make me sound so beautiful, and you’ve always sounded amazing. I’m going to be your number one fan. Just FYI, and when girls start sending you their panties, I’m going to burn them.”
He burst out laughing and wrapped me up in a tight hug. “Deal. The only panties I want belong to you anyway.”
I grinned.
“I’m serious though, you are going to have panties and bras flying at you.”
“Don’t care,” he murmured against my hair. “No one has ever compared to you.”
Another flush of warmth went through me, and we just sat there, cuddling. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Always,” he murmured. “You know that.”
“Yeah, but this is a weird question.”
“Ask me anything you want, Angel. For you? I’m an open book.”
Chewing my lower lip, I asked, “The tying up and the restraining?”
“Yeah?”
“How’d you know you’d like that?” I stole a look at him. I refused to ask