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.

“Oh baby,” he said as he stared down at her, “you’re so wet for me. So ready.”

“Please, Ford,” she begged again. “I can’t wait any longer for you.”

“I can’t wait, either,” he said, and then his tongue was there, slicking through her wetness, once, then twice, then three times before he decided to stay put over her clitoris.

He was holding her hands at the sides of her hips now, and as Mia felt the earth begin to slide out from beneath her, she gripped his fingers tightly with hers.

“Come for me, Mia,” he said and between his urgent words and the sweet feathered touch of his lips over her core, that was all it took for her to come shuddering apart into a million little pieces.

He’d brought her up quickly to release, but he stayed right there with her as she came down slowly, his lips gentle on her oversensitive skin as he pressed kisses to the insides of her thighs and then the soft flesh at the sides of her hips. She was trying to catch her breath and her eyes were still closed when he moved back over her to pull her into his arms.

Just as she had when she’d awakened, she felt safe and warm.

And loved.

Yet again, thoughts of love were what brought her back to reality. Because it was one thing to become Ford’s friend who shared his bed. It was another entirely to fall all the way in love with him...and to trust that it would be forever this time.

Of course, he was so attuned to her that even though she’d barely stiffened, he brushed the hair back from her forehead and said, “I’m glad you came to Oregon and spent the night with me. Really glad. I asked Robert to take us to your place so you’d be able to leave when you needed to.”

“We’re in front of my building?” She slid out of his arms to lift up the shade an inch. “We must have been here for hours.” No doubt everyone in her building was wondering which superstar was blocking traffic outside. And judging by how high the sun already was in the sky, Mia knew she needed to leave to get ready for her appointments. “I should go.”

He got out of bed, gloriously naked and pulled her back against him. “One more kiss, first.”

Despite the fact that Mia knew she still had plenty to think about, their kiss was more unrestrained than ever. Because how could they possibly go back to the hellish control they’d been keeping over themselves when they’d just given each other heaven?

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

His kiss had her brain still mushy as she echoed, “Seven?”

“For our date tonight.”

Finally, she remembered. “Pizza and a movie.” From a stadium and a blinged-out tour bus to an evening on the couch watching a B-grade film—it shouldn’t have made any sense.

But, somehow, it did.

Chapter Twenty-five

Ford had never thought much about what he wore until he became famous. Over the years, he’d learned how to blend in when he needed to. Tonight he made sure his baseball cap came down low and his long-sleeved shirt covered up his tattoos. A couple of people did double takes as he walked into Mia’s building, but he just kept moving. At least, until she stepped out of the elevator and made his brain and body grind to an abrupt halt.

Because it was a warm night, she was wearing a cream-colored halter dress that left her gorgeous shoulders bare and hugged her curves. Regardless of how good the pizza or movie was, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do anything but stare at her all night long.

As she walked toward him in strappy heels that made her legs look like they went on forever, she said, “I think you look great, too.” And then she gave him a soft, sweet kiss that rocked his world all over again.

Last night it had been a big deal when she’d kissed him backstage in Oregon, even though he knew that no one among his crew would talk publicly about the two of them. But this was the first time she’d ever kissed or touched him intimately in a truly public space.

“I called in our order fifteen minutes ago, so the pizza should be ready for us to pick up.” She studied him in his ball cap and nondescript dark jeans and shirt. “Do you want to hide out at my place while I go get it so you don’t create mass hysteria on the street?”

It was probably a good idea, but he badly wanted to see if she’d hold his hand in public. He knew he was being greedy, that the kiss should be enough. But it wasn’t. Not even close.

He wanted all of her, heart and soul.

And he wanted it as soon as possible.

“I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

“Now that you own a house here, I suppose people are going to have to get used to seeing you around town,” she said with a shrug. “Why not start tonight?”

When she didn’t take his hand as they walked outside, but she also didn’t purposely avoid being seen with him in public, Ford reminded himself about what an improvement that was compared to where they’d been even a few days ago.

“Looks like you’ve been busy today,” she said as she pointed to a newspaper stand with his face on the cover.

Just then, a large man jostled her as he rushed by and when she stumbled in her heels, Ford was glad for the excuse to put his arms around her.

“I’ve got you.”

In the middle of the crowded sidewalk, she didn’t immediately pull away, but stood there with her hands pressed flat on his chest. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

But words weren’t enough. He needed to kiss her, even if it wasn’t fair to push her into a public declaration like this. Ford had reached his limit of self-control this morning at exactly the same time she had, and now it seemed there was no way of getting that control back.

He could nearly taste the hint of mint on her lips when a crisp—and very familiar—voice said, “Rutherford, what a coincidence this is.”

Despite the fact that Mia’s hands were still on him, he couldn’t stop himself from stiffening. She looked up at him in confusion, then to the well-dressed couple standing in the entry to an expensive looking restaurant.

“My parents are here.”

She looked back and forth between the three of them. “Those are your parents?” she asked in an incredulous voice.

As he nodded, he wondered, what were the odds that these people wouldn’t just ruin his childhood, but they’d somehow find a way to screw up his future, too? Because with Mia still on the fence about being with him, meeting his parents certainly wasn’t going to help his case any. Not when she’d actually see the genes that would pass through to the kids he wanted to have with her. He’d described his childhood to her, but it was much worse for her to actually see it for herself.

He was bracing himself when Mia slid her hand into his and smiled up at him. “I’ve got you, too.”

They were just four simple words. But they instantly changed everything.

* * *

Mia knew there had to be a family resemblance between Ford and his parents, but she honestly couldn’t see it. They were so starched-up and pinched looking, whereas he was so comfortable in his skin.

“Catherine. Lance. This is Mia Sullivan.” He didn’t say he was glad to see them, and neither did they to him.

“Hello.” She reached out to shake their hands, even though they hadn’t yet offered them.

They didn’t leave her hanging, but they didn’t look particularly impressed with her, either, in her cute little dress with her hair up in a ponytail and artsy cut-glass earrings on instead of pearls or diamonds. She was sure they still had dreams of seeing their son with a perfectly bred girl from the Junior League, not a woman like her who had grown up in a middle-class family...and who had begged their son just hours ago to let her have at his glorious erection.

His mother turned cool eyes back to him. “How are you, Rutherford?”

God, Mia thought, it was like watching distant acquaintances meeting on the street who felt they needed to exchange pleasantries. She squeezed Ford’s hand to remind him that he wasn’t in this alone.

He smiled down at her, and she was glad to see the spark leap in his dark eyes before he turned back to his mother. “Everything is great, thanks. What about you guys?”

His father’s brows came down over his eyes at the casual way Ford spoke to them. Clearly, Lance Vincent had been bred and trained for another kind of response entirely. “We are well, thank you. Seattle has become quite the art scene, and we’re here to solidify a few acquisitions for your mother’s gallery.” He looked slightly uncomfortable as he added, “This meeting is extremely fortuitous, as one of our main local investors has informed us that he enjoys your music. I’m sure he would like to meet you, if you would come inside with us.”

“We’ve got a pizza waiting for us. But tell your friend I’m glad he’s digging my music.”

Ford’s mother finally reached out to touch her son on the arm. There was nothing motherly about it, especially since the way her nails sank into his skin showed that she was feeling more irritated with him than anything else. “You are here now and we leave tomorrow evening. Surely your pizza can wait a few minutes.”

Before Mia could think better of it, she asked, “You’re here in Seattle to meet with investors, but you’re not even staying a little longer to see the final show of your son’s latest world tour?”

“We have obligations. Besides, we’re not fans of his kind of music,” his mother said, as if that explained everything.

“No?” Mia’s voice was deceptively gentle. “What music do you like?”

“Rutherford’s father and I are on the board of the Boston Lyric Opera and the Boston Symphony Orchestra.”

“Surely, despite that, your obligations can wait another day so that you can see his show.”

His mother made a sour face, at least as much as she could, given how badly her Botox injections had frozen her expression to one of almost perfect blankness. “Lance and I find it so difficult to listen to all that screeching and hammering. Rutherford had such talent when he was young. He could have been a classical musician. He could have been a respected composer if only he had put his mind to it instead of fooling around with that electric guitar.”

“Fooling around? He could have been respected? Screeching and hammering?”

Rage was nearly knocking Mia flat on the sidewalk. Only Ford’s hand on hers kept her from going over. Maybe, Mia had the barest amount of remaining clarity of mind to think, Ford would be happier with continuing not to engage with his parents, but she’d been raised to say what she thought. And if this was going to be her only chance to lay into them, by God, she was going to take it.

Because she thought his parents sucked.

“Your son is one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. He not only has more talent in his little finger than any of the proper musicians that you obviously revere, but far more important than that, he’s also one of the kindest, funniest, most wonderful men I’ve ever known. Which is even more impressive, now that I’ve met both of you.” She sneered at them, not caring what they thought about her attacking them, because clearly, their opinions didn’t count. “I used to think it was sad that you weren’t bragging about him to your friends, but now I’m glad you don’t, because neither of you deserve to call him son. And,” she needed to add before they could completely edge away from her and into the restaurant, “his name isn’t Rutherford. It’s Ford.”

His parents gaped at her in outrage, but she was done with them. Ford was staring at her, too, his expression unreadable as she tugged him away from two people she was this close to slugging.