Such a dangerous thought. Such a wonderful thought.
Chapter 20
Returning home the next afternoon was a harsh reality check after the fantasy of the weekend, a fantasy that had lasted to the final minute she’d spent with Fox.
She’d woken beside him for the second day in a row, snuggled and warm, then hot and gasping, could still feel the blunt power of him inside her as she got into the shuttle for the ride to her apartment. Their morning loving had been slow, achingly tender, but he’d taken her again against the door just before she’d left for the airport, and that time it had been hard, rough, deep.
Her fingers brushed her emerald-green cardigan, over the mark he’d left on the upper curve of her right breast. “I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he’d all but growled, pinning her to the door with his strength, her legs around his h*ps and the thickness of his c**k buried to the hilt inside her. “Think of me.”
As if she could do anything else.
Her apartment felt lonely and too quiet when she walked back into it, Fox’s scent missing from the air. He hadn’t been happy about the separation, but Justin had asked David to stick around while he sorted out some unexpected issues resulting from the bar fight. Fox, Noah, and Abe had decided to stay behind in support until David was cleared to leave the country.
Stomach knotted and ribcage crushing her lungs at the strange emptiness of her surroundings, she checked her answering machine just to hear the sound of another voice. Nothing, as she’d expected. Everyone close to her had her cell number, and it was the cell that rang twenty minutes later.
“Hey!” Charlotte’s voice was ebullient in welcome. “I was wondering if you were back. Want to have dinner together? I need to hear everything.”
“Come over.” Molly didn’t want to be alone. “I feel like staying in. We can get takeout.”
“No, I’ll bring my special pasta sauce and we’ll have spaghetti.”
It was so good to have Charlotte there, to sigh with her over Molly’s memories of the amazing live show, smile at the photos from the wildlife park. But for the first time since their friendship began all those years ago, Molly didn’t tell her best friend everything. Especially not about how the night of the concert had ended—in angry passion and a terrifying tenderness that had smashed her defenses. Her vulnerable, scarred heart was now brutally exposed.
At work the next morning, she smiled when her colleagues asked her how her long weekend had gone but didn’t elaborate beyond a few words. Nothing could come close to describing the intensity of the past few days. She’d never been as happy, as angry, as scared, or as pleasured.
When Fox had messaged her last night to say he was out with the guys to celebrate Abe’s birthday but that he missed her, she could’ve taken the chance to protect herself, backed away. Instead, she’d drawn in a trembling breath and told him what was in her heart: I miss you, too.
The resulting exchange of sweet, sexy messages had left her with a goofy smile on her face, especially when he ended with: Abe just called me pu**y-whipped. I told him he was a jealous f**ker and he agreed. He wants a Molly now, too.
The joy continued to hum in her blood this morning, even though she hadn’t heard from Fox again. Conscious of the time difference and not wanting to add pressure in case there was a real problem with the David situation, she decided to wait till early afternoon to check in. As it was, she barely had time to glance at her phone all morning.
Clearing her e-mails when she had a half hour to spare at last, she flicked over to the website of the country’s biggest newspaper, her plan to scan the day’s news before knuckling down to write up an after-school program they’d decided on at the midmorning meeting. The big headline was about a politician who had an interesting way of getting herself into the media for someone who professed not to value self-aggrandizement and work only for the people.
Rolling her eyes, she skimmed over the rest of the page, then clicked across to another news site more irreverent in tone. It often had at least one article that made her smile. Glancing at the updated feature links on one side of the page as she began to flip open her handwritten notes from the meeting, she was about to close the browser when her eye caught on the third link in the list: Fox Partying it up with Mystery Redhead in Sydney!
Her blood went cold, then hot, then cold again. Feeling as if she were watching someone else, she clicked on the link. It brought up a full-color image of a shirtless Fox with his arm around a stunning, voluptuous redhead who had her hand on his chest, the eyes she’d turned to the camera screaming her claim on him.
Molly attempted to read the text but her vision was blurred, her heart thundering in her ears. Swiveling in her chair to stare out the window behind her, she tried to breathe through the agonizing pain in her chest. It was hard. A long, gut-wrenching minute later, she forced herself to turn back to the screen and read her way through the article. According to the reporter, “superstar rocker Fox” had met the woman at a private party hosted by the hottest club in Sydney.
A source at the hotel confirmed they’d last been seen heading into his room, his mouth “devouring” hers.
Numb, Molly closed the page and got to work typing up the proposed program. Her fingers moved on autopilot, as did her body when it came time to move on to other duties. She was grateful the library continued to be hectic as the hours passed. So long as she didn’t have time to think, she was fine. The only person who would’ve immediately guessed something was wrong was Charlotte, and her best friend had flown down to the capital this morning with T-Rex for a big meeting.