It Must Be Your Love (The Sullivans #11)(55)

She knew what the right answer would get her—all of him—but she just couldn’t lie to him. “You’ve become important to me, Ford. Really, really important. I know that much.”

Disappointment flashed quickly through his eyes before he could bank it entirely. “We’re going to get into the shower for a quick rinse and then I’m going to take you to bed so that I can put my arms around you and hear about every part of your day that I missed between this morning and now.”

“I want to hear all about your day, too,” she told him. And it was true, she longed for these pieces of him just as much as she longed for his body, had even longed for these secret parts of his heart more than another stunningly great climax when they’d been together five years ago. But now, damn it, she wanted all of those things! Especially when she was dangling over the edge of a release so sweet that she could practically taste it like sugar on her tongue. “But I want this, too. Your mouth, your hands on me—and mine on you—without needing to stop for any reason.”

“Soon,” he said, the word actually vibrating with hope. Hope that she now felt, too, and not just because she was so desperate for him to take her. “But for tonight, your naked soapy skin against my hands will have to be enough.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Rock stars weren’t expected to have control. They were trained by the world to behave as recklessly and wildly as they wanted to. Ford wasn’t the worst of the bunch, but he’d never been an angel, either.

How was he going to get into the shower with Mia without making love to her?

How was he going to put his hands all over her luscious curves and stop there?

And how the hell was he going to listen to the breathless little sounds she made as her arousal spiked higher and higher and not allow himself to take her all the way up to the peak?

But even though he didn’t have one single answer to his desperate questions, he couldn’t have stopped himself from bringing her into the shower for anything.

They were both still partly dressed when he turned on the faucet and warm water sprayed out over them. He loved having her in his arms, but he needed to put her down at least long enough to strip away her bra and panties. Yes, he knew it would be a hell of a lot wiser to keep her at least partially covered, but he was almost certain he’d die if he didn’t get to see her naked inside of the next thirty seconds.

He bent to kiss her again as he reached around her back for the clasp of her bra. He was fumbling for the elusive pieces of metal when he felt her laugh against him.

“Not there, rock star.” Her eyes were bright with arousal and humor as she reached around for his hands and brought them to the tiny clasp at the center front. “Here.”

He could feel the tumbling beat of her heart against his hand as she held him there, and he repeated, “Here,” but he wasn’t talking about her bra. And by the way her eyes darkened and her smile fell away, he knew she felt it, too. A connection that neither of them had ever had—or would ever have—with anyone else.

He inhaled once, then twice, to try to get his head on straight. But it was no use, because the moment that he flicked open the clasp and Mia’s incredible br**sts fell into his waiting hands was one he knew he’d never recover from.

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stare in wonder at her gorgeous pale skin, her ni**les a dusky rose that made his mouth water. Palming both of her br**sts, he slowly stroked both thumbs over their taut peaks. His hands were shaking, but she was trembling, too, as she stared down with what looked like wonder at his large, tanned hands on her.

“Again.” Her breath was ragged, the word barely understandable as it fell from her lips. “I need y—”

But he was already giving her more with his mouth, covering one perfect nipple with his lips, laving it first with his tongue, and then using his teeth for a heady moment before licking the small bite all better. She gripped his wet hair with both hands and held him to her as she arched deeper into his mouth. He laved every inch of her breast with his tongue before he moved to take her other breast into his mouth.

They’d done this five years ago, and yet as he lifted his head to kiss her, he was amazed to realize that those memories he’d never shaken free of were suddenly receding as they discovered each other all over again.

He was wearing his jeans still, but she’d shimmied fully out of her panties, and as they kissed, the urge to back her up into the tiles and spread her thighs wide, to step between them, and press his denim-covered erection against her sex—was unstoppable.

On a moan of deep pleasure, she rocked into him with her hips, once, twice, and as her body was beginning to tremble and tighten around his, the very last thing he expected her to do was tear her mouth from his.

“Just kissing you won’t be enough tonight,” she told him as the water streamed over her hair, then down over her curves. Her needy body arched and curved into his even as she said, “Not even close to enough, but—”

“But I made you a promise, Mia.” He’d seen her with her family, with her employees. He knew that a promise was as good as gold to her, and he needed her to know that it was the same for him. “And I need to keep it, even if every second of not having all of you is ripping me apart.”

She reached out and placed her hands on either side of his face. “I’ve never wanted anyone or anything the way I want you, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of us if I made you break your promise to me.” She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before saying, “Put me down and hand me the shampoo so I can wash your hair.”