Read Online Say It Strong (Say You Love Me Book 2) by Virna Depaul - Free Book Online
Authors: Virna Depaul
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around during the break. I’ll help you.” He winked then scanned me up and down. I was wearing a long, gray skirt and yellow tank top. Nothing risqué or out of this world, but apparently, it was enough to fuel his fantasies.
Rosemary swiveled in her chair and gave me a sly, pouty look. “Yes, Miss Chan. Stay during the break, so you can love me for a long time,” she whispered. She bit her bottom lip and faked an intense orgasm.
I jabbed her in the shoulder with my bow.
“You too, Miss Bourré.” Richard eyed Rosemary in the most horndog of ways. “You may want to stay as well. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
I lowered my face and snarfed a laugh down the back of my cello. “Yeah, Miss Bourré, it’ll only take a few minutes. ’Cause you’re too hot for me.” I laughed so hard my eyes leaked. Oh, man, I needed to laugh more often.
Rosemary’s shoulders shook. It was only a matter of time before we got into a full-blown giggling fit, the kind that had been commonplace in our early freshman days. While we waited for Richard to finish figuring out why Peta’s bass sounded sharp, then walking over and tuning it for her, I thought about how packed to the gills this stadium would be tonight.
Last night had been the most humbling experience. I’d played for large indoor audiences before, but nothing like the collective wailing, chanting sea of people that overtook the arena last night. Normally, I didn’t get too nervous about performing, but then again, I’d never come face-to-face with thirty thousand people before.
What must Liam feel like, I wondered, standing center stage, soaking in that kind of adoring attention? I remembered him standing there, absorbing the energy. He’d stood straight, feet together and arms splayed wide, a huge white light shrouding him in silhouette, making him look like the Messiah of Rock. It was no wonder he must feel invincible. It was no wonder women flocked to him and the other guys.
That was one thing the classical world would never see in a million years—chanting minions. Yes, our music halls were filled with adoring fans as well, but their reactions were vastly different, restrained. Only loud applause, cheers, and the occasional standing ovation told us we’d done well. How cool would it be, just once, for all those people in snazzy suits, tuxedos, and Versace dresses to stand on their chairs and shout their love for us? Scream their heads off as they carried the Principal Cello off in a wave of undulating hands?
I could hear the cheers. Abby! Abby! Abby!
Wow. Time for a break. And to get a grip on myself.
Luckily, Richard gave us a half-hour downtime. He was too busy with poor Peta to remind me and Rosemary to stay behind, so we took advantage and left the stage. “I’m going to hide in the bathroom,” she said. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Miss Chan .” She sniggered and disappeared down a hallway.
I needed fresh air to clear my head, so I exited through the double doors and headed outside for a walk. It was just past noon, and the venue was situated on a private garden adjacent to the arena that I’d heard was really beautiful. Outside, the noontime sun warmed my face. I walked past the convoy of buses, past the crew carrying heavy rigging, and past the main bus, which had FEEL THE BURN written in white paint on the windshield.
I’d never seen the band getting in or out of the bus. They were night owls, so I assumed it was because they operated on a completely different schedule. I wondered if Liam was in there right now. What would he be doing? What would he be thinking? What if he really was interested in me? What if he was lying in his bunk right now, shirtless, hand halfway down his pants, thinking of me?
The feel-the-burn question then, was—would I be able to handle him?
More important, would I want to? There was something very compelling about the possibility of handling Liam Collier. About the fact that a rock god like him seemed
Rosemary swiveled in her chair and gave me a sly, pouty look. “Yes, Miss Chan. Stay during the break, so you can love me for a long time,” she whispered. She bit her bottom lip and faked an intense orgasm.
I jabbed her in the shoulder with my bow.
“You too, Miss Bourré.” Richard eyed Rosemary in the most horndog of ways. “You may want to stay as well. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
I lowered my face and snarfed a laugh down the back of my cello. “Yeah, Miss Bourré, it’ll only take a few minutes. ’Cause you’re too hot for me.” I laughed so hard my eyes leaked. Oh, man, I needed to laugh more often.
Rosemary’s shoulders shook. It was only a matter of time before we got into a full-blown giggling fit, the kind that had been commonplace in our early freshman days. While we waited for Richard to finish figuring out why Peta’s bass sounded sharp, then walking over and tuning it for her, I thought about how packed to the gills this stadium would be tonight.
Last night had been the most humbling experience. I’d played for large indoor audiences before, but nothing like the collective wailing, chanting sea of people that overtook the arena last night. Normally, I didn’t get too nervous about performing, but then again, I’d never come face-to-face with thirty thousand people before.
What must Liam feel like, I wondered, standing center stage, soaking in that kind of adoring attention? I remembered him standing there, absorbing the energy. He’d stood straight, feet together and arms splayed wide, a huge white light shrouding him in silhouette, making him look like the Messiah of Rock. It was no wonder he must feel invincible. It was no wonder women flocked to him and the other guys.
That was one thing the classical world would never see in a million years—chanting minions. Yes, our music halls were filled with adoring fans as well, but their reactions were vastly different, restrained. Only loud applause, cheers, and the occasional standing ovation told us we’d done well. How cool would it be, just once, for all those people in snazzy suits, tuxedos, and Versace dresses to stand on their chairs and shout their love for us? Scream their heads off as they carried the Principal Cello off in a wave of undulating hands?
I could hear the cheers. Abby! Abby! Abby!
Wow. Time for a break. And to get a grip on myself.
Luckily, Richard gave us a half-hour downtime. He was too busy with poor Peta to remind me and Rosemary to stay behind, so we took advantage and left the stage. “I’m going to hide in the bathroom,” she said. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Miss Chan .” She sniggered and disappeared down a hallway.
I needed fresh air to clear my head, so I exited through the double doors and headed outside for a walk. It was just past noon, and the venue was situated on a private garden adjacent to the arena that I’d heard was really beautiful. Outside, the noontime sun warmed my face. I walked past the convoy of buses, past the crew carrying heavy rigging, and past the main bus, which had FEEL THE BURN written in white paint on the windshield.
I’d never seen the band getting in or out of the bus. They were night owls, so I assumed it was because they operated on a completely different schedule. I wondered if Liam was in there right now. What would he be doing? What would he be thinking? What if he really was interested in me? What if he was lying in his bunk right now, shirtless, hand halfway down his pants, thinking of me?
The feel-the-burn question then, was—would I be able to handle him?
More important, would I want to? There was something very compelling about the possibility of handling Liam Collier. About the fact that a rock god like him seemed
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