Fascinated, she put the empty hot-chocolate cup in the holder and turned slightly in her seat. “Did you four meet at boarding school?” It was something she’d assumed but didn’t know for certain.
“Yes, at an honest-to-God choir tryout. The music teacher forced us to go.”
“No!” She grinned. “You were in the choir?”
“Hell, no.” A growl of sound. “I sang flat and off-key on purpose. So did the others—Noah and I were friends already, but that’s when we decided we were soul mates with David and Abe, too.” A pause as he slowed the car to allow another limo, this one virgin white, to merge into traffic, a topless woman popping out of the sunroof to blow kisses their way before she was yanked back down.
“Was she wearing giant bunny ears?” Shaking her head, Molly shifted her attention back to the rock star who intrigued and compelled her far more than anything around them. “What happened next?”
“We made music together,” he said simply, and brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss. “Starting out, we crashed in a cheap two-bedroom apartment, working every day job we could to make the rent and feed ourselves.”
Molly could hear the passion in his voice, knew the dream of music had driven him. “How old were you?”
“Eighteen. Right out of high school.” He placed her hand on his thigh as he shifted gears. “Noah and Abe, they both come from heavy-duty money, but it was an unspoken rule that we did this on our own. Best decision we ever made—money’s never come between us, and the band? It’s ours, no one else’s.”
Molly loved the insight into the band’s friendship, into Fox, and kept urging him to continue. So engrossed was she in his stories of what it had been like to go from flat broke to filling stadiums with screaming fans that it took her a while to realize they’d left the lights of the city behind to prowl up one of the hills. “Where are we going?”
A sinful smile, the dimple lean and gorgeous in his cheek. “Best make-out spot in the city.”
The row of cars at the top, complete with steamed-up windows, proved him right.
Pushing back his seat once he’d parked, Fox said, “Come here, Miss Molly,” and maneuvered her into his lap.
She snuggled close. “This is so romantic.” Los Angeles spread out in front of them like a twinkling carpet, the lights fireflies in the dark.
“Does that get me points?” Fox ran his hand under her unbound hair to touch her nape.
Skin taut at the tone of his voice, she said, “Depends.”
“On what?”
“On what you intend to do with the points.”
“Trust me?”
It was no longer even a question. “Yes,” she said, “this earns you many brownie points.” Nervous anticipation in her veins, she looked into eyes shadowed by the darkness inside the vehicle. “What do you want to use them for?”
Fingers trailing up her neck. “A little rope.”
“You want to tie me up?” Molly’s voice was husky, the sound a caress over Fox’s senses.
“Yeah.” He cupped the lush warmth of her braless breast through the T-shirt she’d thrown on over jeans, enjoying the simple pleasure of being able to touch her as he pleased. “I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“You’re telling me Zachary Fox, rock star named Reigning Sex God by a certain men’s magazine three years running,” she said, her breast pushing into his palm as she leaned closer, “has never tied up a woman during sex?”
“Even a Reigning Sex God has to develop his tastes.” He rubbed his thumb over her nipple. “By the time I realized it was something I wanted to try, that girl I walked home from the bar had sold her story to the tabloids. I didn’t trust anyone enough to play those games.” Molly though… she could have every one of his secrets.
He was hers.
“Some people would say I’m being naïve believing that—”
Ice in his blood.
Screwing up her nose, Molly glared at him. “I said some people. I know you don’t lie. You never have, not from the start.” A pause. “Though you did let me assume you were perfectly happy for our relationship to end after a month.”
Fox winced. “You ever going to forget that?”
“No”—Molly tugged at his lip ring—“I plan to hold it over you for the rest of our lives together.” Shifting position to straddle him, she held his gaze with the clear brown of her own. “Thank you for never lying to me.”
He heard the honesty, saw the vulnerability she didn’t try to hide. “I never will, baby. Even if I know what I’m about to say will piss you off.” Tucking his fingers under the edge of her T-shirt, he stroked the bare skin of her lower back. He’d always been a tactile man, but with Molly, it was more than that—it felt good deep inside to touch her, as if he was where he was meant to be. “Speaking of which… I got you something in New York.”
“Other than the ridiculously expensive robe with which I’m madly in lust?”
“The robe was a present for me.” She’d accepted that with open pleasure, but this next gift might slam up against her boundaries—it continued to frustrate him that she made no demands on him financially when he wanted to give her the world, wanted to make her happy. “It’s in my front jeans pocket.”
Chapter 32