It Must Be Your Love (The Sullivans #11)(58)

Chapter Twenty-four

Mia had always been a big sleeper. She loved waking up on cool mornings warm and cozy beneath a thick duvet, and would often linger long past the first ring of her alarm clock. But this morning she felt so good, so warm and safe, that she didn’t want to wake up all the way.

No matter how long she’d tried to fight the truth, everything was better with Ford.

Especially this.

After a shower that had teased them both nearly senseless with naked skin neither of them could touch, she’d loved the way he’d curled up with her on the bed. At some point, she must have fallen asleep and he’d tucked them both beneath the covers.

Just enough light was coming into the bedroom of his tour bus through the edges of the blinds that, as she slowly turned in his arms to rest her head in the crook of his shoulder, she asked herself yet again, what did being Ford’s friend mean? A bond of mutual affection is how the dictionary defined friendship, but that wasn’t even close to big enough for what she was starting to feel for Ford. Affection was there, of course, but so was intimacy and attachment and empathy and comfort.

But even if she couldn’t quite define exactly what being friends was, last night when they’d been talking, though she could hear the sensual desperation in his voice, for as much as they wanted each other, she was also absolutely certain that their need to know each other was at least as big.

Now, however, she was more than willing to let their attraction come back to the forefront for a little while. With the best looking man who had ever graced the earth this close—and naked beneath the bedcovers with her—how could she resist pressing her lips to his chest where his heart was beating slow and steady beneath her ear?

And how could she resist lightly running her hands down over his warm skin?

And why on earth would she be stupid enough to give up the chance to keep raining more kisses all across his chest, his arms, and then down over his taut abdominal muscles as he continued to sleep?

She knew how much energy he put into his shows and how deeply he slept afterward. And it was a very good thing that he was so exhausted. Because there were so many other places she wanted to touch, to kiss before he woke up and decided to stop her in the name of growing their friendship first. Ever since he’d stripped off his jeans and boxers in the shower last night, she’d been utterly distracted by the need not only to look, but also to touch.

And to taste.

She hadn’t been flirting with him when she’d asked if he was bigger now than before. Because...wow. She licked her lips in anticipation as pure female instinct claimed her so that she simply had to lean down to press a soft kiss to the hard ridge of his erection.

Ford’s groan came first, quickly followed by her name on his lips and his hands in her hair. “Mia—”

She’d promised to stick to the rules last night. But this was a new day, and while she still agreed that they should keep working on their friendship before they had full-on sex, she couldn’t see how being puritanical about things was a good idea, either.

For Mia, falling in love with someone wasn’t only mental, it wasn’t only inside the heart. It was also physical. So before he could say or do anything more to try to stop her, she slicked her tongue over him in one long, delicious stroke.

He automatically bucked up into her waiting mouth, and she was just shifting to take him deeper when he used his hands in her hair to lift her gaze away from his groin. The slight pinch of his grip on her scalp sent her arousal ratcheting up even higher.

“Last night,” he ground out, “we agreed not to do this. Not yet.”

“I didn’t break our promise last night, and I’m not going to break it today, either. We won’t have sex. Just this.”

She knew she was pleading, but she was desperate for him not to stop her. Because coming this close to such pleasure and having to pull back was a very bad thing. Very bad. And wasn’t it true that the definition of what sex actually was could be a wide and cloudy one?

“Ever since last night in the shower, when you told me why you haven’t taken care of yourself, I’ve needed to put my hands and mouth on you, Ford. Not just for you...but for me, too.”

Finally—thank God—he curled his hand over hers so that she was gripping his erection even harder beneath his hold. Together they stroked him, and she couldn’t tell her moans from his as they sounded off the bedroom walls of his tour bus.

Being like this with him again was so perfect and beautiful and sexy. She felt so close to him and knew if he tried to stop her now, she would die...because she needed this, needed at least some completion after all these days of stopping after super hot kisses.

Mia shifted up onto her knees on the bed, her long hair falling over him as she took him into her mouth. Ford’s hands moved back into her hair, and together they found a perfect rhythm, one that was so natural, one that felt so much a part of her that she wondered how she’d managed without having him in her life for so long.

Using her lips and tongue, she took him up, up, up, then reveled in sending him all the way over. Ford was always strong, always in control, so those few moments when he gave himself completely over to her were incredibly precious. She couldn’t remember ever being so aroused before, yet she honestly believed she didn’t need anything more than what they’d just done—simply because it felt so good to give him pleasure.