[learn_more caption=”Maryse’s Exclusive Excerpt” state=”close”] Molly dropped her keys.
Fox bent and picked them up, the chocolate silk of his hair sliding over his forehead. “Here.” Putting them gently into her hand, he closed her fingers over the cool metal, his touch callused from playing the guitar.
Goose bumps broke out over her skin.
Blood rushing through her ears, Molly squeezed her fingers until the edges of the keys dug into her palm. “Are you always this…” She waved her free hand, realizing for the first time that he’d come to a cocktail party wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt. Yet he’d undoubtedly been the most charismatic person in the room.
“I’m making an exception for you.”
Molly knew it was a line… and she didn’t care.
That terrified her. But not enough. For the first time since her world had imploded when she was fifteen, danger tempted more than it scared. Looking up into Fox’s face, his beauty holding a hard edge that said he’d break all kinds of rules, push her past her comfort zone, she knew she was about to give in to the other Molly, the one who’d been in a cage her entire life. “My car’s in the second row.”
Opening the driver’s side door for her when they reached her sporty white compact, Fox said, “I haven’t driven on the left before, but I like driving.”
It took her a second because that teasing grin, it had stolen her breath, the lean dimple in his left cheek devastating her senses. “You can like driving in your own car.” With the rest of her night about to spin heart-thuddingly out of control, she needed to be in charge of something, even if it was only the wheel of her car.
“It was worth a try.” Sliding into the passenger seat, he pushed the seat all the way back to accommodate his legs.
“Would you allow me to drive your Porsche?” Pulling out of the garage, Molly battled the need that urged her to stop the car and tell the rock star next to her that he could do anything and everything he wanted to her… just so long as he let her bite down on that pierced lower lip.
“I don’t have a Porsche.” He shifted in an attempt to stretch out farther before realizing it was a futile effort. “I have a Lamborghini Aventador. Hot red, and baby, she’s a sweet ride.”
Molly had no idea what kind of car that was, but it sounded fast and dangerous and sexy. Like Fox. “So,” she said, her toes curling, “would you let me drive your Lamborghini?” Her voice came out a little breathless, her heartbeat slamming against her ribs.
“Sure, Molly. If you promised I could do hot, dirty things to you before, during, and after.”
Squeezing the steering wheel, she stared out at the road, the city center vibrant with groups of young males trying to make time with club-going girls in tiny glittering dresses and strappy tops—clusters of laughing wildflowers unworried by the autumn chill. Molly had never been that young, that carefree, had never stepped foot in a club after that first time in college—when she’d come face-to-face with the girl who, as a naïve and love-struck underage schoolgirl, had been photographed naked in the backseat of Molly’s father’s car.
She’d certainly never had a one-night stand.
Except now she had a rock star in her passenger seat, and they weren’t planning on ending the night with a cup of tea and nice, polite conversation. “We need to stop at a pharmacy or a convenience store,” she said, trying to act like the sophisticated woman he no doubt expected her to be, even as her hands threatened to tremble.
“You’re going in.” Molly wasn’t ever going to be sophisticated enough to brazenly walk into a store at ten at night to buy protection.
Molly asked herself what she was doing. Really, what was she doing? The idea of Fox in her bed, his strong hands, his mouth—that delicious, delectable mouth—on her flesh, it stretched her nerves to breaking point. Fantasy was one thing, but to take the next step? To make it real? Especially when she hadn’t exactly done any of this before? It made her throat dry up, her skin go alternately hot then cold.
“When did you pick me?” The words just tumbled out, her normal filters shredded by his proximity.
A small, charged silence, the car turbulent with smoldering male energy. “That’s an insult, any way you cut it.”
Her cheeks burned. “You’re right,” she said, knowing she’d just blown all chances of pulling off any kind of sophistication. “I’m sorry.”
That gritty purr was gone from his voice when he said, “Hey, I’m a musician. We all sleep around.”
“I’m a librarian,” she blurted out, unable to take the sexual tension entangled with the biting edge of male fury. “Everyone knows we’re repressed old ladies with too many cats.”
A chuckle. “Clever, Molly.” Again, he stretched out his legs, or tried to. There was simply too much of him to fit in her little car. “You know, if I go into a store and buy condoms, it’ll be all over the tabloids tomorrow that I f@#ked a local.”
She felt her cheeks heat again. At this rate, she was going to have third-degree burns by the time they got home. “Wear a disguise.” She fought to keep her breathing shallow, but it was no use—Fox’s scent had bonded with every molecule of air in the car.
“Where am I supposed to get a disguise, Miss Molly?” The teasing question was abrasive silk over her skin.
Biting down on her lower lip, she told herself to focus. “There’s a cap in the backseat, sunglasses in the glove compartment.”
He found the items, tried them on before ripping off the sunglasses. “I wear these girly things and my c*@k will shrivel up.” It was a growl. “Cap’ll do. Long as they don’t notice the ink.”
“Just act shady,” Molly said, her breasts straining against the lace of her bra, the fabric rasping against the taut tips. “The clerk will be so worried you’re planning to shoplift or do something else nefarious”—Nefarious? Really, Molly!—“that he won’t notice anything else.” As long as the clerk wasn’t female
No woman would ever miss a single tiny detail about Fox.
“You think I can look shady?” A single finger traced the line of her jaw.
Her body wanted to whimper. “You have five o’clock scruff,” she managed to say past the sheer want choking her, “you’re dressed in black with a ball cap pulled low, and your left arm is covered in scary tattoos.” In truth, she found the ink beautiful, wanted to explore the artwork slowly and in intricate detail. “Yes, I think you can do shady.”
A chuckle, deep and low. “You’re mean under the blushes. I like it—I’ll also like licking up that blush from every inch of your body… after I use my tongue to get you off.”
Molly forgot how to breathe.
When she didn’t respond, he said, “Not even a little peek? I’ll start to think you don’t like the look of me.”
Instinctive self-defense had her saying, “You know exactly how gorgeous you are.”
She caught his shrug out of the corner of her eye.
“It’s a face. It’s mine. I don’t want to kiss my own face. I want to kiss yours—while we’re skin-to-skin and I have my c*@k balls-deep in you.”
Heart ricocheting against her ribs and fingers bone-white on the steering wheel, she pulled into the convenience-store lot. “Go.”
He left without another word, jogging to the door. She wondered if he really was that hungry for her. As hungry as she was for him. Until she had to convince herself not to simply drive to the darkest part of the lot and crawl into the lap of the beautiful, dangerous man she’d never expected to touch. It would take less than a minute to undo his zipper, nudge her panties aside, and—
“Jesus, Molly.” She pressed her forehead to the steering wheel and squeezed her thighs together.
It only intensified the ache between her legs.
They were taking precautions, she thought, trying to rationalize what she was about to do. She wasn’t drunk. Neither was he. They weren’t being stupid about it… but it was still going to be a one-night stand.
She took a deep breath to settle her frantic thoughts, but the lingering scent of Fox, hot and dark, seeped into her, derailing any attempt at coherent thinking. Undoing her seat belt, she opened the door and stepped out into the cold chill of the night, the soft breeze causing the layers of fringe on her silly, pretty dress to sway softly.
Could she do this and look at herself in the morning?
The answer was scarily easy. Every woman was allowed a Fox in her life, allowed one night of unrestrained passion… wasn’t she? This would be hers. When it was over, she’d put the wild, unruly part of her away forever—the part that came from her father and would otherwise destroy her life, as Patrick Buchanan had destroyed their family.
At least she was single, wouldn’t be breaking anyone’s heart by sleeping with Fox.
The convenience-store door opened on the heels of her decision, to reveal a man with a sinful smile and a body made to give a woman decadent pleasure. “Ready?”
[learn_more caption=”Vilma’s Exclusive Excerpt “]
“You found the bedroom.”
Fox looked at her from where he lay beside her on his stomach, his eyes lazy and satisfied in the muted light of the bedside lamp. “Not difficult.” One big hand stroked down the line of her spine to splay on her lower back, fingers just brushing her buttocks.
Molly’s own fingers curled in the sheets. “Only one bedroom.” It was a nonsensical statement, but she was having trouble thinking past the heavy afterglow of unadulterated pleasure… and the bite of a fear that said maybe she’d made a terrible mistake. This had been meant to be her one wild night, something to carry with her as she walked into a safe, calm, happily dull future, except it had felt like more than sex, more than a single moment of madness in a life lived by the rules.
It had felt like a branding.
“I might just fuck you forever, Molly.”
He’d used her name, that’s what got to her. Right at the end, when she could’ve been any warm, willing female, he’d called her by her name, made it crystal clear he remembered exactly whose body he held against the wall. And she’d never forget his, never forget the man who’d taken such rough care with her. His entry had burned, the pressure intense, but that had faded into a pleasure that blinded.
“So many thoughts in those big brown eyes,” Fox said, playing his fingers over her hip.
Drawing in a long, quiet breath, she turned onto her side and shook her head, a knot of worry in her chest. “Nothing important.” It had been her first time, she told herself, with a man who knew exactly what he was doing. No wonder she was off-balance.
The fact was, Zachary Fox might’ve taken her as if he meant forever, but this one night was all they’d ever share. There was no cause to worry she’d started something that held the potential to devastate the life she’d so painstakingly built for herself.
“Did you say something about a second time?” she asked when it looked like he might follow up on the implied question—though she wasn’t sure her body could handle Fox and what he did to her again.
His smile was pure sex, his hair falling over his eyes as he shifted over her, pressing her onto her back. “You’ll be even more sore than you’re already going to be.”
Molly could feel her skin coloring, but she said, “I can handle it.” It panicked her a little to know their time together would end with the dawn, but that was the reason it had to end. Even should Fox lose his mind and decide he wanted to start up a relationship with a librarian who couldn’t pull off sophisticated no matter how hard she tried. “Please.”
Dimple creasing his cheek, he dipped his head to her breast. “Since you asked so nicely”—a playful lick—“I’ll even give you a reward.”
The second time around was delectably slow and astonishingly instructive. Molly might’ve been inexperienced, but she was smart, read a lot. She knew there were endless nuances to what men and women got up to behind closed doors. But when Fox lowered his head to between her thighs and put his mouth on her, when he showed her exactly what that ring felt like against her most delicate flesh, she realized some things required practical application.
And, when it was over and he tucked her close to the hard planes of his body, she stayed. For this one night, a night that would never be repeated, she could trust a man to hold her.[/learn_more]
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