“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She was surprised that she didn’t feel shy at all about her nakedness as she moved toward him and took his hand. Then again, there wasn’t really any room for shy when he was looking at her like this—with so much heat and desire that her hormones revved from zero to a thousand in the time it took him to pull her onto his lap.
“Don’t apologize. I wish you had woken me earlier,” she told him as she straddled his lap and lowered her mouth to his for a kiss.
He had put on a pair of jeans, but she could feel his erection pushing the zipper into the bare flesh between her thighs. It would be so easy to get lost in his kiss—and the way his big hands were moving down her back and then over her hips to cup her bare bottom and pull her closer—but she needed to know about his song first.
“The song you were playing...it’s incredible.”
“It’s pretty rough still, but it’s coming along.”
He reached up to brush his thumb over her lower lip, a mesmerizing pattern that made it hard to think straight. However, the fact that he was writing again was such a big deal that even her newfound sensuality had to take a backseat to it.
“It didn’t sound rough, Drew. I thought I was dreaming at first, dreaming of the most beautiful song I’d ever heard.” She could see how pleased he was by her reaction to the song. “When did you write it?”
“Just now.”
“Now?”
“You fell asleep in my arms, and I didn’t want to get up out of bed. Didn’t want to let go of you. Not ever, if I didn’t have to. But then the music started playing in my head. In my hands, too. Like it was going to burst out of my bones and skin if I didn’t grab my guitar that second.” He looked amazed by it even as he spoke. “That’s never happened to me before. I mean, I’ve been inspired, but not like this.”
Ashley moved even closer and hugged him tightly with her entire body. “I’m so happy for you. So happy that your muse is back.”
“It’s you, Ash.” He shifted them on the chair so that he could look into her eyes. “You’re the reason it’s back.”
“Me?” Of all the things he could have said, nothing would have surprised her more. “How could I have anything to do with your song?”
“Because when we made love, the walls that had been building up, the blocks that had been settling into place...” He rubbed his cheek against hers, and it felt so lovely that she sighed at the sweet, simple pleasure of it. “All the pleasure, all the joy, all the mind-blowing bliss of being with you pushed the bad things out of the way.”
Everything he was saying was so sweet, and incredibly flattering, too. But it was a lot for her to take in. Too much, honestly.
She’d never planned to be anyone’s muse. And could barely believe that someone as normal as she could inspire great art.
But instead of fighting to unravel her strange feelings about it, she focused on Drew and his music. “Now that the inspiration is flowing again, you should keep writing. I can go back into the bedr—”
“Stay.” He cradled her hips in his hands and scooted her even closer. “I want you again. I need you again.”
Oh God, she needed him just as badly. But she’d never forgive herself if she got between him and his music, so she made herself say, “Promise me you won’t forget the song you were writing.”
“I promise I won’t, but you’ve got to promise me something, too.”
“What?”
“That you won’t try to get up off my lap until I’ve made you come again.”
Just like that, with nothing but his wonderfully dirty words, he took her right to the edge of release. “I promise.”
He crushed her mouth beneath his as soon as the promise left her lips. And though the faint light creeping in through the blinds told her it had only been a handful of hours since they’d made love, she needed him again with the same desperate anticipation she’d felt right before he’d made her his for the very first time.
He swept her hair back from her shoulders with one hand, then gently tugged the strands so that her head tilted back, leaving her neck open for his lips and tongue and teeth. She didn’t even realize she was rocking her pelvis into his until he used his other hand against her bottom to increase the pressure and the friction of the denim against her.
She’d told him last night that she was good at being the good girl, but she didn’t feel like that good girl anymore. At least not when she was naked and straddling Drew in the middle of his tour bus, on the verge of coming apart on his lap while he urged her to do just that.