Home > It Must Be Your Love (The Sullivans #11)(49)

It Must Be Your Love (The Sullivans #11)(49)
Author: Bella Andre

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.

When she could finally catch her breath, she looked up his chiseled body and asked, “Feel better now?”

“No.”

Before she knew it, Ford had hauled her up his body, then shifted them so that she was lying in his place on the bed and he was levered over her. He nipped hard at her lower lip as he slid his hands through hers and held her immobile with one arm pulled up on either side of her head.

“Not even close to better.” His teeth found one of her earlobes next, right before he growled, “Not until I get my mouth on you, too.”

She nearly came apart right then and there, with her hands held firmly in his and his tongue tracing the tendon from her lobe to her collarbone. And when his mouth closed over her nipple, all she could do was arch up into him and beg for more.

“Please,” she said, even though she’d never been a woman who begged anyone for anything. Only Ford had ever reduced her to this. And when he gave her exactly what she needed by scraping his stubble from one breast to the other, her pleas gave way to just his name, which fell from her lips over and over again.

She would have wrapped her legs around him to pull him closer, but he didn’t just have her hands pinned, he had her legs trapped beneath his, too. Ford had been the most dominant lover she’d ever had, and for once in her life she’d loved letting someone else lead. But after they’d broken up, she’d never let a man lead in bed with her again.

Only, now that he had her exactly where he wanted her, she couldn’t deny that it was right where she wanted to be, even though just minutes earlier when she’d been touching and tasting him, she’d been the one in control of their pleasure.

Maybe, she found herself thinking with the few brain cells that were still operational, this time around neither of them would need to be in charge. And if this morning was any indication, this new balance between them—both as lovers and as real friends—would make things even hotter than they’d been before.

He kept her hands in his as he rained kisses along the undersides of both br**sts, then down over her stomach. “You smell so good,” he said between kisses. “I can’t wait to taste you again.”

But instead of rushing down over the rest of her curves the way she so badly wanted him to, he took his time to trace the lower edge of her ribs with his tongue, to taste the hollow just beneath her hipbone, and then to breathe her in when he finally made it down to the vee between her legs.

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