It Must Be Your Love Page 60


She laid her hand flat over his heart as she added, “And a real, solid friendship.”

One that she prayed would grow stronger through all the right times, and withstand all the wrong ones, too...especially since she was barely able to keep silent the voice in her head that told her a friend would never hold back another friend from what he was born to do.

“I have an idea,” Mia murmured as she stretched to enjoy the scratch of the hair on Ford’s chest across her br**sts. They’d just made the most incredible love, but instead of sating her, she hadn’t even begun to get enough of him. “Want to hear it?”

His erection instantly grew another couple of inches, and his heart rate sped up beneath her. She knew better now than to let sex overtake everything else, but she couldn’t bear to ruin their perfect night with her concerns that Ford was making the wrong decision about giving up touring to settle down in Seattle. Besides, tomorrow night at his show, she’d finally be able to see if he was giving up the stage for her, or if he was actually ready to retire from performing anyway.

Until then, she wouldn’t allow herself to feel guilty about drowning in the decadent, all-consuming pleasure that only Ford had ever been able to give her.

“Hell, yes,” he confirmed, “I want to hear your idea.”

“Well...you know that list of fantasies you’ve come up with this week?” He was already shifting them on the blankets, so that she was on her back beneath his deliciously hard muscles by the time she said, “I want you to pick one for us to bring to life tonight.”

He’d threaded one hand through her hair and his hand tightened down in the sexiest way as he asked, “Just one?”

She lifted her head to whisper against his lips, “At least one.”

He crushed her mouth against his, and she met his tongue stroke for stroke, his teeth bite for bite, his throat growl for growl. Finally, he said, “Ever since you told me that you touched yourself this week and made yourself come, I’ve hardly been able to think of anything else. Show me how you were touching yourself. I need to see it. I need to see you.”

She would give him anything he wanted, but she’d waited so long to have his hands on her again that even as she nodded her assent she was saying, “Help me show you, Ford. Help me come again for you.”

He kissed her again, hard and fast. “Where do you want me?”

“Behind me, with my back to your chest and your legs on either side of mine.”

Moving quickly, he propped himself up against the pillows, then pulled her against him. His erection was huge and throbbing against the small of her back as she relaxed into him.

“Now what?” His two words were barely more than a whisper of need.

“Now put your hands on my thighs and open them wide.”

He swallowed loudly as he slowly ran his fingertips down from her waist to her thighs. She loved how big his hands looked on her, and warmth and wetness pooled between her legs as he gently gripped the soft skin of her inner thighs and drew her legs apart.

“Mmm,” she encouraged him, “that’s perfect.”

“So damned perfect,” he agreed in his deep, resonant voice that had captured her from the very first moment she’d seen him on stage. “Tell me what you need now, Mia.”

“You,” she said before turning her face to his for a kiss. “And for you to know, to see, to feel just how much I want you. Just how much I need you, Ford.”

She put her hands over his and took them both on a slow slide over her skin, from thighs to hips, from hips to stomach, until they were cupping the undersides of her br**sts together.

“God, I love that you’re a guitar player,” she told him in a shaky voice as his calloused fingertips scratched and scraped over both of her ni**les at the same time.

She arched into their combined touch, letting him know with her own hands that she wanted more, that she wanted everything he needed to give her.

Where whispered endearments had once fallen from his lips, all he needed to say to her now was, “I love you, baby. So damned much. And I need you to show me how you want me to make you come. Now.”

Her hips were already lifted for his touch by the time she drew his right hand back down from her br**sts to the damp and needy flesh between her thighs. And when he touched her exactly where she needed to be touched—his calloused fingertips sliding in the most deliciously dirty way over, and then inside, of her—Mia instantly shattered.

His fingers played in a perfect rhythm of pleasure over her damp flesh until she stopped trembling. And though the force of her climax should have drained every last ounce of energy from her, she’d never felt more powerful as she quickly shifted on the blankets so that she was straddling his hips.

She had no idea where he’d gotten this second condom from, but was beyond thankful that he already had one on as she lowered herself down over him, one glorious inch at a time.

“How’d you know this was going to be the next fantasy on my list?”

She loved the way he teased her even as they passionately loved each other. Five years ago, there had been no laughter during sex. Yes, they’d had incredible heat, but back then, they were quickly kindled flames rather than a slow and steady burn that could be trusted not to go out.

“Something tells me pretty much everything is on your fantasy list,” she teased back.

“Only one way to find out,” he said as he flipped them back around so that he was levered over her. “We’ll have to bring every one of my fantasies to life at least once.”

“Well,” she said as she lifted her hips to take him even deeper, “if you absolutely insist...”

Chapter Thirty-one

In the middle of the night, when the tower grew too cold for their pile of blankets to keep them warm enough, Ford had carried a sleeping Mia down to the master bedroom.

“My prince,” she’d murmured against his chest. “Just like I always knew you were.”

His heart had been so full, he’d nearly had to wake her to tell her, again, just how much he loved her. But he’d kept her up late enough as it was, and considering his last show was in less than twenty-four hours, he’d known it was a good idea for him to get some sleep, too.

Now, as he lay with Mia soft and warm against him in his bed, he was glad they’d slept, and not just because they’d both needed the rest. Having her breathing softly and steadily in his arms was nearly as good as the way he was planning on waking her up.

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