It Must Be Your Love (The Sullivans #11)(76)

“I’ve always wondered what this feels like.” She stroked the dark and shiny mahogany reverently before looking up at him with a naughty grin. “No wonder you like holding it so much. It feels good. And sexy, too.” She ran a nail over a string and seemed surprised when sound rang out from the large amp beside her.

He had a sudden vision of Mia lying on his bed naked with the guitar draped over her gorgeous curves. With the guitar still strapped across one of her shoulders, he lifted her up to sit on the amp it was plugged into and stepped between her legs. Their mouths met, hungry after their hours apart. Her hands tangled in his hair, he pulled her hips in closer to his, and though his guitar should have been in the way, he didn’t feel any rush to take it off her.

On the contrary, having the woman he loved holding on to one of his most prized possessions was a total rush.

His hands automatically roved up from her bottom to her waist and br**sts. He wanted to pull down the slim strap holding up her dress, but while last night, and this morning, he’d given up all control, now he tried to find it again so that he didn’t overwhelm her.

“I know it’s too much,” he said as he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair and tried to get a grip. “Even after I’ve had you a half-dozen times since last night, I still need you too much.”

“It’s not too much. It could never be enough.” Where his hands had stilled on the bodice of her dress, she moved hers to help him pull the fabric down. “I want you just as badly, Ford.”

She punctuated her words by giving a little wiggle from where she was sitting on the amp. When her br**sts popped out of her bodice and lay soft and perfect along the top edge of his guitar, all Ford could do was stare. Especially when Mia slowly began to slide her body and the guitar in opposite directions so that cool wood teased her ni**les the way his hands and mouth had just hours earlier.

“Wanna play me, rock star?”

“Hell, yes. But you need to be naked first.”

Her eyes went wide for a split second before they darkened with the unquenchable lust he knew had to be mirrored in his own eyes. “I’ve been waiting hours and hours to get naked with you again.”

If it had been any other dress, he would have ripped it off her. But this one represented too much of their history—past, present, and hopefully future—to ruin it in the heat of the moment.

His hands were shaking with need for her so she had to help him slide it down and over her hips. Wearing only little red lace panties, sitting on top of his amp with his guitar on her lap, she was every teenage boy’s fantasy—hell, every man on the planet’s fantasy—come to life.

Kneeling in front of her, as he reached behind his guitar for the lace, he pressed soft kisses to her calves, her knees, her thighs. “Lift your hips again, baby,” he urged her and quickly he had her panties off and balled up in his hand.

He tucked the lace into his pocket, then took a step back to look at and drool over her some more. She was already more than he could handle—the beauty of her flushed skin, the way she trusted him to strip her clothes off with dozens of his crew roaming around just outside the dressing room door—when, in one slow, seductive movement, she lifted one leg up onto the amp. With the guitar barely covering her, Ford knew he didn’t have a prayer of lasting much longer. Jesus, at this rate, he was going to explode without ever unzipping his jeans or touching her.

She licked her lips, then said, “I’m ready to be played now.”

On a groan, he quickly moved behind her. He grabbed a condom from his back pocket before shoving his pants down to his hips. He quickly slid the condom on before lifting her by the waist so that he was the one sitting on the amp...and she was sitting on him.

As he brought her down over him one hot inch at a time and she leaned her head back against him, her eyes fluttered closed.

“Watch us, baby,” he urged her. “Look how beautiful you are.”

He could feel how much effort it took for her to open her eyes, but that moment she caught sight of the two of them in the mirrors told him his request was exactly the right one.

“Oh God, Ford. This is so hot.” Her words rasped out of her throat. “I love it.” She held his gaze in the mirror. “I love you.”

“Hold on tight to the guitar,” he told her in a low voice, and as soon as she obeyed his heated instructions, he began to thrust his hips up against her, going deep, then deeper still as he used his hands at her waist to guide her body nearly off, then back down over his erection again and again.

Her fingers slipped and slid over the strings and the accidental music she made as he took them both closer and closer to the edge joined their moans and gasps of pleasure.

“Yes. Please. Harder.” Her eyes had closed again, but he knew she didn’t need to watch anymore, because both of them already had this perfect, sexy moment backstage burned into their memories forever. “Now!”

Burying his face against the nape of her neck, he thrust into her one last time, then held her tightly against him as she climaxed…while the one surprisingly perfect chord she played rang out as the soundtrack to their lovemaking.

Chapter Thirty-two

Mia loved being in Ford’s audience with her parents and brothers. Considering how much Ford meant to her, it was strange to realize she’d only ever seen him play one show—the night they met. He hadn’t had any more tour dates that week they’d holed up in the hotel, and then after they’d broken up, she couldn’t bear the thought of watching him play. As excited as the capacity crowd clearly was for him to take the stage now that the opening act was over, Mia knew no one’s anticipation could match her own.