He lifted his head, met her kiss, his hair tumbled across his forehead and his fingers locked with hers.
“My Fox,” she whispered, and then there were no more words, only the searing ache of a bond new and vulnerable and with the potential to break them both.
Fox brushed Molly’s hair gently back from her face as she slept curled up against his chest, shaking inside at the glory of what had passed between them tonight.
“My Fox.”
No one had ever claimed him in such a way, a way that had nothing to do with obligation or money or fame. No one had ever cared enough to be possessive of him. Not of Fox, the rock musician who made a nice accessory or trophy to brag about, but of Fox the man. The fact Molly had been pissed off about the shirt thing? He f**king loved it, even if it was an uncivilized reaction. He wasn’t exactly civilized where the woman in his arms was concerned. But he had to pretend he was, at least for a little while longer, give his lover time to come to terms with the violent beauty of what lived between them.
If she took the ultimate risk, if she came to him despite the fears that haunted her, if she chose Zachary Fox as no one else had ever done… she’d f**king own him, whether she knew it or not.
Chapter 22
Molly had to have two cups of tar-strong coffee to wake up the next morning. Still not quite human, she decided to wear a shirt with an old-fashioned tall collar edged in lace. A little Victorian with its long sleeves plus the white ribbon and lace in the detailing, the vintage find always made her feel pretty. She paired it with a simple calf-length black skirt that came with a wide belt, and her trusty black leather boots, the heel barely there to allow for easy walking around the large and busy library.
The rock star in her bed whistled when she exited the bathroom after pulling her hair into a neat twist and putting on her basic work makeup—nothing much more than a lick of mascara and gloss. “I want to tempt you back into bed,” he said, “except I think you’ve worn out my cock.”
Knowing she was being teased and not ready to think about the passionate power of the previous night, Molly decided to respond to his earthy sexuality in the same vein. “Wasn’t I the one who woke up with something long and impatient sliding inside me?” she said through her blush.
His dimple came into view. “I like this naughty side. Show me more.”
God, he made her feel so young and happy. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.” Picking up her purse and fighting the urge to kiss that dimple because she wasn’t sure she’d stop once she started, she pulled out her spare apartment key and set it on the bedside table.
It was the first time she’d given a key to anyone other than Charlotte, but Fox was already so deep inside her, it made little sense to keep him out of her apartment. “Lock up when you leave. Though,” she added, the “naughty side” in fine form this morning, “I won’t kick you out if I come home to find you na**d in bed.”
Completely unconcerned by his nudity, Fox walked over to kiss her his way, his lips curved in a smile that hit her sideways. “Have a good day.” A bold, petting stroke of his hand over her butt. “I’ll see you tonight.”
There was, Molly thought as she walked up the steps to the main entrance of the library, something to be said for having her day start with a kiss and a smile from her gorgeous, talented man. It only got better when said man had an extravagant bouquet delivered to her: two dozen roses in his favorite color, arranged in a clear crystal vase. There was no card, but she didn’t need one—not with the adorable stuffed koala sitting in the sea of scented red.
She knew her grin had to be foolish, but she didn’t fight it, picking up and setting the koala beside her computer before turning to face her colleagues, all of whom were agog. Charlotte had the same reaction after Molly showed her a photo of the bouquet at lunch. “I think you should keep him,” her best friend said solemnly as they sat in the vibrant international food hall they’d chosen for today. “Also, find out if he has a twin brother.”
Grinning, Molly sipped some of the miso soup she’d ordered to have with her sandwich. “Won’t T-Rex mind if you run off with a rock star? He seems to be unable to do without you.”
Charlotte stabbed at her sushi. “T-Rex can go bite himself.”
Startled at the hostile statement from her sweet friend, Molly pushed at Charlotte’s practical little black heel with her foot. “Spill.”
“That meeting in Queenstown?” Charlotte ate a piece of sushi with grim-eyed focus before continuing. “Afterward, he made me go with him to every single jewelry store in the city to find the perfect bracelet for some woman he’s dating.”
“Oh.” Molly winced, feeling awful she’d encouraged Charlotte in that direction. Luckily, Charlotte seemed more mad than sad. “That must’ve sucked.”
“Yeah.” Charlotte stabbed at her sushi again. “Every time I pointed one out just to end the whole excruciating experience, he questioned me in that Spanish Inquisition way of his until I finally gave him my actual opinion.”
“What did you pick?”
“Here.” Charlotte pulled up an image on her phone. “I was sneaking a photo of it when he caught me.”
The bracelet was a stunning delicacy of diamonds and emeralds set in platinum, the design evocative of tiny flowers and spring leaves. It was made for someone as fine-boned as Charlotte, would accent rather than overwhelm.