Author: Bella Andre

“Wow,” she said as he quickly mixed batter together and poured it onto the sizzling waffle maker, then began to beat the six eggs he’d pulled out of the fridge, “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Living on a tour bus for as long as I did, you get pretty good at figuring out a few things you can make without having to go into another greasy spoon or eat out of another to-go box. Turns out that waffles and eggs work for breakfast, lunch and dinner if you need them to.”

On the one hand, she could see that life on the road hadn’t always been glamorous, regardless of how fancy his bus had been or how much money he had to pave his way from city to city. But on the other, even as he talked about being tired of greasy spoons and too many takeout boxes, it was obvious that he hadn’t really minded the downsides of his career all that much. And, after all, didn’t every job have a few difficult aspects? Being a Realtor, for instance, meant that her weekends were usually busy with showings, where most people took Saturdays and Sundays to relax with friends and family. But she enjoyed what she did enough that taking Mondays off instead of Saturdays never bothered her.

After liberally covering the waffles with butter and syrup, he carried one big plate of food over to the table.

“You planning on sharing any of that?”

He sat down and patted his lap. “Come here and you’ll find out exactly what I’ve got planned.”

Despite the fact that he’d just blown her mind in a half-dozen different ways in bed, her body instantly revved up for another round. His cotton shirt scratched against her sensitive breasts in the sexiest possible way as she slowly walked over to him, then lifted one leg over both of his so that she could straddle him on the chair.

Their mouths came together at the same instant, his erection growing bigger and hotter against the vee of her legs as she rocked closer to him.

“Jesus, Mia,” he said as he finally drew back, “I swear I was planning on feeding you breakfast.”

Unfortunately, just as she was about to tell him breakfast could wait a little while longer, her stomach let loose a loud growl of hunger. Clearly determined now to get some food into her, he carved off a large piece of waffle with his fork and popped it into her mouth.

“Mmm.” She closed her eyes to appreciate his culinary skills...and the feel of his deliciously hard body beneath hers. “So good.”

He pushed another piece against her lips and she opened to take it in, and then a few seconds later, the next one he offered her. Soon, they settled into the sexiest breakfast in history, with both of them eating off the same fork, half of each piece of waffle going into her mouth and half into his. And yet, beneath the endless desire she had for him, was something even sweeter than the syrup he’d been so liberal with. She felt his love not only in the way he touched her, in the way he wanted so badly to give her pleasure, but also in how he wanted to make sure she was well fed and happy.

She wanted all the same things for him...wanted more than anything to know that he was happy.

“I can’t wait to see your show tonight.”

He popped another bite of waffle into her mouth. “The last time you were in the audience, I gave the best show of my life.” He grinned as he bent forward to lick a drop of syrup from her chin. “You’ll never know how happy I am that you’ll be there for my last big show. I’m planning on blowing the doors off for you tonight.”

Last night, this morning, had been fairy-tale perfect. Not just the amazing sex, but knowing that Ford loved her as much as she loved him. But now, as he spoke about giving up his touring for her, all of the worries she’d told herself it was okay to push away for a little while longer rose up inside of her. “Ford—”

But before she could express her concerns, he was saying, “I wished you were in the audience a thousand times, Mia. Hell, for months after we split up, I kept thinking I saw you in the crowd. But I knew better, knew you would never be out there.”

“Actually,” she said as she decided it was long past time to come completely clean with him, “while you’re right that I wasn’t in the audience at any of your live shows, I might have watched a couple of your performances that were streamed over the Web.”

She could still remember how much it had hurt to see him again, how impossible it had been for her to stop looking at her computer screen. And, despite how badly he’d hurt her, she’d been helplessly spellbound by his performance.

At his look of surprise, she said, “You’re amazing on stage. I’ve never seen anyone sing a song the way you do, with your heart and soul in every note, every line. Even when I told myself I couldn’t stand the sight of you, I couldn’t look away...and I couldn’t stop falling even more in love with you.”

He kissed her once, twice, then again and again until all the other things she’d been planning to say to him about not feeling right that he was giving up his passion for her spun right out of her head. Only the sounds of their simultaneously ringing phones could have brought them up for air.

“Speaking of shows,” she gasped as she worked to get her breath back, “I’ll bet that’s Carol wondering where you are.”

“And Orlando reminding you of all the people who need you to find them the perfect home today. Which means I should probably let you go, shouldn’t I?”

“I guess so.” She wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck, even though he was right that she had a handful of very important showings scheduled that day. “Although now that I’m done with breakfast, I do need to take a shower. You know, a little soap,” she teased as she thought back to their super-sexy shower on his tour bus in Oregon, “a little shampoo.”

Less than a heartbeat later, he was pushing back from the table and carrying her out of the kitchen and into the large and luxurious master bathroom. “I almost can’t believe I’m going to finally get to watch those bubbles roll down over your naked skin.”

“Those waffles you made us for breakfast were so good,” she said as she looked up at him with a grin that promised to match his wickedness from their lovemaking earlier that morning, “I may even let you watch even more than that.”

His groan—and then his kiss—told her exactly how much he liked that plan.

* * *

By that afternoon, when Billy let him know that Mia had arrived at the back entrance to the stadium, Ford felt like he’d been waiting forever for her to show up. He was surrounded by his crew and Natasha and her cameramen, but when Mia walked in wearing that little silver dress, everyone but her instantly ceased to exist.

“Mia.”

He had to kiss her once, twice, and then again a third time before he could even begin to pull himself together. He was so proud of being able to finally call her his girlfriend as he introduced her to everyone...but at the same time, it nearly killed him to have to wait any longer to be alone with her again after the endless hours he’d endured without her since this morning.

Natasha’s grin was that of a triumphant matchmaker, and all the guys in his band and crew were giving him a “way to go, man,” look. But the second she shook the hand of his last crew member, he made the world’s crappiest excuse for dragging her into his dressing room, and didn’t give a damn that everyone knew exactly what the two of them were about to do.

He was a rock star, wasn’t he? Might as well live up to the hype for once in his life and do something dirty in his dressing room...especially when he had the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world to do it with.

As soon as they stepped into the small dressing room and Ford locked the door behind them, Mia made a beeline for his guitar. She ran her hand over it, admiring its curves and hollows, then picked it up from the stand and lifted it over her head.

“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 breasts. 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 breasts 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 nipples 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.