She knew there was no point in prevaricating; her whole life would soon be an open book to the media, the past she’d tried so hard to outrun thrown in her face. “Yes,” she said, her fingers locked once more with Fox’s.
“I told you you’d handle it.” Fox closed his arms around her the instant they were alone inside their brand-new luxury coach.
As of now, Schoolboy Choir would no longer be staying in hotels during the tour. Aside from the driving section up front, which was sectioned off by a soundproofed wall, each coach had a furnished living area and bedroom, as well as a section for the facilities. It reminded Molly of the small apartment she’d rented right out of university, neat and functional, though without much extra space.
It would require some logistics to get the coaches to concert locations on time, with the band often having to fly ahead, but that was a minor issue compared to the guaranteed privacy. Each coach could only be accessed by a thumbprint scan.
“I thought you were incredible.” Nuzzling her nose against his, she smiled. “You know how to play the media like you do an audience.”
“I just laid it out like it is, no bullshit.” Tender hands tucking her hair back behind her ears. “I would’ve come after you, you know. If you’d run. I wouldn’t have been a good guy, wouldn’t have let you live your life away from me. I’ll always come after you.”
“Hey.” Rising on tiptoe at the words that sounded as if they were ripped from his soul, she kissed him, her hands cradling his face. “I told you, I’m in this for the long haul.” Molly would repeat that promise until he believed her, until he stopped expecting her to give up on him. “You and me, we’re a unit. They’re going to start calling us Folly any day now.”
“Smart-ass.” A playful slap on her butt, the strain fading from his expression.
Stealing another kiss, she said, “Let’s go into the bedroom and christen this hotel on wheels.” Fox was a physical man and Molly was more than willing to use their intimate connection to show him how much he meant to her.
“No need to rush into the bedroom for that.” He backed her against the wall, each word accompanied by a kiss. “We have to do a thorough job.” His hands sliding up under her top to cover her br**sts. “It’s a very big coach.”
“I guess”—Molly gasped as he fondled the lace-cupped curves with blunt masculine approval—“we’ll have to take it one bite at a time.”
“Perfect idea.” Strong white teeth gripping the skin just above the pulse in her neck before he shifted his attention to divesting her of her top. Unraveling the pretty bow with a tug, he made quick work of the buttons, and the top was soon on the carpet.
Two more seconds and her bra of blush-colored lace met the same fate.
“You’re far too good at that.”
Dimple showing, he dropped a kiss on one pebbled nipple. “I practiced to get good just for you.”
“Smooth, Zachary Fox, real smooth.” Stroking her hands through the cool silk of his hair, she sucked in a breath as he took a leisurely bite of her right breast. “Do that again.”
Fox’s mouth curved against her skin before he did as ordered, licking his tongue over her flesh. “Want to play a little?” he asked when he raised his head.
Molly bit her lower lip, sudden bubbles of agitation in her blood. “This coach is secure?”
Steel glinted in Fox’s eyes, his hand heavy and comforting on her lower back. “It came directly from the dealer and I watched the head of the security firm personally go over it with a fine-tooth comb. You’re safe.”
Her heart ached. Always, Fox thought of her, though the man who’d invaded their privacy in such a gutless way had harmed him just as much. “Yes,” she whispered, wondering how she’d gotten this lucky. “I’d like to play.”
Bracing his forearms on the wall on either side of her head, Fox pressed his mouth to her own, his body heat making her want to rub up against him like a cat. The kiss was wet, tangled, their tongues licking against each other until her breath was lost, her heartbeat a rapid stutter in her chest.
Fox wasn’t in much better condition, his erection pushing into her abdomen and his breath harsh in her ear as he said, “Trust me, baby.”
Bending at her nod, he picked up her blouse, but when he would’ve twisted it as if to make a tie, she gripped his wrist. “Don’t you dare. I love that top.” It was gasped out.
“God, you’re strict.” One big hand on her breast, he leaned in to kiss her again. “That turns me on.” Nipping at her lower lip, he dropped her top back to the carpet and moved his hands to his belt buckle.
The funny, fluttery feeling in her stomach, ignited by watching him undo the buckle and pull the belt through the loops, only grew when he said, “Turn around, Molly.”
That tone. Molly couldn’t do anything but obey, the finely textured carpet that covered the walls of the coach deliciously abrasive against her aroused ni**les.
“Hands behind your back.”
She obeyed again, even knowing it would leave her at his mercy. Somewhere along the way, trusting Fox had become a bone-deep impulse. The leather was warm, strong against her skin. Again and again she felt the sensation of movement—he’d wrapped the belt around her overlapping wrists multiple times. A brush of metal, the buckle clinking softly for a second before he pulled the belt tight, rendering her arms helpless.