Текст книги "Rock Addiction"
Автор книги: Nalini Singh
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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
Chapter 37
“Yes.” There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him.
Looking over his shoulder, Fox nodded at Noah, David, and Abe, who were set to follow.
She’d thought the distance to the hotel entrance would seem endless, but the five of them were walking through the automatic glass doors what felt like a second later. David flanked Fox, while Noah and Abe stood next to her, a solid wall of friendship and loyalty. Charlie might not have been physically present, but Molly could hear her best friend’s voice in her mind, telling her not to smack anyone. It almost made her smile.
The mass of reporters, photographers, and cameramen—corralled off the hotel steps by a wall of black-suited security—began to scream questions the instant they spotted Fox.
“Spin is everything,” Thea had said to Molly and Fox in a call a quarter of an hour ago. “Make the world see you as an ordinary couple trying to have a relationship under the spotlight—and point out that this could happen to anyone.”
Her sister had barely taken a breath before continuing. “Allow them to glimpse your anger but don’t look hounded. The scent of blood only makes predators hungrier—shrug and say you’ll deal, but that the ones behind this will pay. No one messes with you and gets away with it.”
Now, looking at Fox as he stood in front of the cameras, ignoring the screaming until the media people began to nudge one another to shut up, Molly thought Thea had been wasting her breath. He’d do exactly what he’d do.
“Fox! Fox!” One reporter’s voice rose above the other fading ones. “Do you have a statement about the recent intimate photos of you and your”—the slightest pause—“lover?”
“Yeah, I have a statement,” Fox said, his tone a growl.
The entire rabble went quiet.
“Being caught with a gorgeous, sexy woman having one hell of a good time isn’t exactly something I’m going to apologize for.” He paused as the reporters laughed, the tension dropping in a steep dive. “Especially when that woman is Molly.”
Heads swung toward her, questions congesting the air.
“Are you going to introduce us?” another reporter managed to shout above the wall of noise.
“World, meet Molly.” Gripping her jaw, Fox kissed her full on the mouth, complete with tongue. “Molly, world.”
Blushing, she found herself half-laughing as she faced the cameras. “I’m going to kill you,” she muttered under her breath when his hand landed on her butt.
His smile turned wicked.
“Molly! Molly! Are you as unworried about this as Fox?”
“Well, I did get caught in bed with a rock god. I’m real sorry.” She didn’t know where the words came from, but they were the right ones from the way the reporters began to hoot and clap.
Fox held up a hand when they would’ve shouted more questions, his other one hooked into the back pocket of her jeans. “One thing I want to say—Molly and I, we’re never going to be sorry about what we do between the sheets.”
Another wave of laughter and conspiratorial grins.
“But,” Fox continued, “I’m the possessive type. I share my music, my voice, and I don’t think anyone will argue when I say I’ve been more than open when it comes to interviews”—a round of nods—“but the one thing I will not share is Molly.”
He waited to let that sink in before continuing, the ruthless edge back in his voice. “No matter how long it takes, I will crush both the voyeur who decided to get his pathetic rocks off by violating our bedroom, and the scum-sucking site that put the footage up.”
He held up his hand again when the media would’ve asked more questions. “I have a request of Schoolboy Choir fans—we’ve always been accessible to you guys in every way we could be. Now I’m asking you to honor the years we’ve been on this rock-and-roll ride together by not sharing or reposting this content. This isn’t about the music, it’s about hurting my girl, and that is not fucking okay.”
Molly wanted so badly to kiss him at that instant that she almost didn’t hear the question that floated into the air as they turned to leave.
“Molly! Is that a Kiwi accent?”
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 breasts. “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 nipples.
“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.
“Too tight?” His jaw grazed the skin of her shoulder. “Studs not pushing too deep where your wrists press against your back?”
Molly shook her head as he caressed her lower curves, her throat dry.
“That’s good. Anytime you want out, just say so.” Chest pressed to her back, he said, “You got it?”
“Yes.” Molly curled her fingers against his zipper, his own hand slipping around to cup her breast before he ran it down her stomach to the waistband of her skirt, following it in a teasing line to the back.
Slipping the small black button there out of its hole, he brushed his thumb over the skin below. “You’re so soft, Molly.” The zipper being tugged down with those husky words. Shaped to her body, the skirt didn’t sag but had to be pulled down—which Fox did slowly, so slowly, his kisses getting lower down her spine.
She shivered.
“Cold?” A breath of hot air against her skin as the skirt fell to her ankles, followed by a tender kiss to the delicate crease of skin where her buttock met her thigh. “Better?”
“More,” she said, shameless.
But being shameless with Fox had its rewards. She got a second kiss, long caressing strokes of those rough-skinned hands over her thighs. “Lift your leg.” Another kiss after she obeyed. “Now this one.”
An instant later, the skirt was gone from around her ankles, leaving her clad in nothing but black heels and panties of blush-colored lace that matched the bra already on the floor. Fox had given her the decadent lingerie as a gift, as he gave her so many things. She truly was spoiled. Most of all because he was hers.
“Did I ever tell you I love taking you while you’re wearing heels?” Kisses up her spine as he rose to his feet behind her.
Sucking in a shallow breath, she said, “You might have mentioned it once or twice.”
His laughter low, masculine, intimate, Fox drew her hair over one shoulder and, sliding his hands between the wall and her skin, palmed her breasts. Her sensitive flesh was crushed against his hold by the heavy press of his body, but it wasn’t painful—no, it felt wonderful. Especially when he drew one hand back to undo the button on his jeans, lowered the zipper what sounded like halfway and, taking her bound hands, tucked them inside.
Molly moaned. “You went commando before a press conference?” Hot and thick and erect, he felt too big to fit inside her, but he did. He always did, and the fit was perfect.
“Why the hell not?” Running the fingers of one hand lightly over her neck and shoulder, he rolled and tugged at her nipples with his other. “How would you like me, Molly? Like this.” He ground himself against her lace-covered behind, her hands trapped in between. “Or should I throw you on your back, spread your thighs wide and pound into you while you lie helpless?”
Molly squeezed her fingers on the part of him she held, to his groan. “Whatever you want,” she whispered.
“Oh, I like the things you say.” A firm tug on her nipples before he caressed one hand down her body and into her panties from the front.
It was a bold, self-assured hold, that of a man who knew the woman he touched belonged to him. She could feel herself growing wetter against his palm with every second that passed, his mouth busy on her throat and shoulder, his free hand continuing to roll and tug at her nipples, shooting darts of sensation directly to her clit—which she tried to rub against his hand, but her position wasn’t quite right, and she could only manage the most frustrating of brushes.
“Fox.”
“You said I could do what I liked.” It was a gravelly purr. “And I want to tease you.”
Molly whimpered, tried to clench her fingers on him, but he’d already stepped back, her hands sliding away from all that rigid male heat. “You want me, baby?”
“Yes.” Her fingers curled into her palms.
Sounds behind her—the light thud of shoes being kicked off, fabric rustling, a zipper moving the final few inches. “I’m naked,” he told her a minute later. “I’ve got my hands on what you want. I’m stroking it hard and fast, rougher than you ever do.” A quick kiss to her nape before he stepped out of reach once more. “That’s not a complaint—I love your hands on me. Shit, I jerk off to the thought of you jerking me off.”
A palm pressing between her shoulder blades when she would’ve turned. “Nu-huh. Don’t make me tie your ankles too… or maybe I should.”
“I’ll fall.”
He spanked her on one of her bottom cheeks, the ripple of sensation arcing through her flesh. “As if I’d let that happen.” Hooking his fingers in the sides of her panties, he tugged them down and off.
She felt fabric around her ankles the next instant. “It’s my T-shirt, not your top”—Fox’s voice, low and with that gritty undertone that made him so powerful as lead singer—“so don’t get mad.”
Hobbled by the tie and in a slightly unbalanced position against the wall, she had to stay where she was or risk taking them both down, because Fox was right—he’d never let her fall.
“You have no idea how hot you look.” A kiss to her nape. “My strong, smart, fucking perfect Molly.”
Heart aching at the stark emotional power of his words, she drank in the sight of him when he stepped back and scooped her up in his arms. The words she wanted to say flirted on the tip of her tongue, words that meant everything to her, but that Fox could well reject.
Chapter 38
Carrying her to the bedroom with effortless ease before she could give in to temptation, Fox said, “I wouldn’t want you to abrade your skin,” and placed her carefully on her front, making sure her face was turned to the side and her hair out of the way. “Okay?”
His tenderness undid her. “Yes,” she whispered, feeling something break inside her—old pain, old fear, the last hidden fragments crumbled into dust at the brush of his callused fingertip across her cheek. “Fox.”
“I have you, baby.” Maneuvering her lower body until she was on her knees, her butt in the air and her face against the sheets, he ran his hands down her curves with unhidden pleasure. “Now this would make a pretty picture.” His words turned the ugliness of what had happened into something beautiful, claimed it for their own.
An open-mouthed kiss on her lower back, his hand pushing between her thighs again, his fingers sinfully busy. Brought to the edge of what felt like a shattering orgasm, she screamed when he stopped… only to start again a minute later, after he’d eased her down from the high… then he repeated the cycle.
Until she was an incoherent pile of trembling woman, every one of her senses primed. That was when he drove into her. The fact her thighs were pressed together by the tie around her ankles made the thick heat of him feel like an invasion, hot and welcome. She was branded, she was owned, she was taken.
Molly came, sobbing her pleasure. And kept coming as he pounded into her again and again, his fingers digging into her hips and buttocks. When he gripped her hair in his hand near the end and tugged up her head, the pulling sensation on her scalp sent her over the edge.
She came so hard she passed out… but not before she heard Fox groan her name as he slammed deep into her one last time.
Molly rose to consciousness cradled in Fox’s lap, her rock star sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard. Her bindings were gone, his heartbeat a hammer under her ear as he ran one hand along the curve of her spine, the other down her arm. Her own heartbeat not exactly steady and her skin sheened with perspiration, she snuggled closer.
“Hey.” Fox tipped up her chin. “You okay?”
Seeing the concern in his gaze, she found the energy to reach up and kiss his jaw, his stubble coarse under her lips. “I can officially say that was the hardest orgasm I’ve ever had.” The confession got her a deliciously male, flagrantly smug smile that wrapped another thread around her already claimed heart. “I used to read that in romance novels and scoff. I mean, who passes out from an orgasm?”
“My Molly.”
“Your Molly.” Her veins sluggish from the aftereffects, she ran her fingernails down his chest in a light caress. “Do you have to report in for anything today?” There might not be a concert tonight, but the band was constantly fine-tuning the show, part of what made them so good at what they did.
“Nothing that can’t wait.” He kissed the top of her head. “Do you want to sleep?”
Molly nodded, knuckling her suddenly heavy eyes. “It’s been a crazy day.” She’d expected to feel scared, humiliated and broken after what had happened, but instead she was content, happy… and proud.
“I survived the world seeing naked pictures of me and knowing they might see a whole heck of a lot more,” she said, sitting up to look into Fox’s eyes. When the green grew stormy, she shook her head and cradled his face in her hands. “I discovered I’m stronger than I thought. You know what else I realized?”
A shake of his head, his expression unreadable.
“That we don’t blame and fracture when the going gets tough. We don’t abandon each other.” As her father had abandoned her mother in so many ways. “We stand together, and Fox, if we can do that now,” she whispered, “can you imagine how strong we’ll be in the years to come?”
His smile creased his cheeks, his gaze potent with emotion as he said, “I see you in every dream I have of the future.”
“I love you.” It spilled out, what she’d held inside for so long because she knew that for Fox, those three words in that particular order meant loneliness, neglect, and rejection.
He froze, but Molly wasn’t about to allow her rock star to carry this hurt inside him forever. “I know that statement doesn’t have good memories for you,” she said, eyes locked to his. “That’s why we’ll make new ones together.”
“Might take a hell of a long time.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” No fear, no regrets, no other always but Fox. “Just remember, this is me, Molly, saying it to you. And it means my heart.”
He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone, his strained muscles easing beneath her. “Say it again.”
“I love you,” she said, understanding on a storm of emotion that this was the first time in his life he’d heard the words from someone he trusted not to kick him in the heart. “So much. Until it hurts and the hurt is one I want to feel forever.”
They slept intertwined, warm and safe—and woke to another phone call from Thea, this time on Molly’s phone. Molly immediately put her on speaker. “Thea?”
“You’ll never believe what’s happened!” The excitement in her sister’s voice had them sharing a confused glance, especially when she continued on to say, “I mean, I’m looking at it and I can’t believe it.”
“Stop rambling and get to the point,” Fox growled.
But her sister remained ebullient. “I always knew Schoolboy Choir had some dedicated fans, but this is unreal.”
“Thea.”
“Sorry, Moll.” Thea laughed. “That tabloid site that published the photos? It’s down.”
“How?” Fox asked.
“Hacked, and a post on a major online bulletin board says it was done by the band’s fans. Several other sites that scraped the images have also gone down.” Thea sounded like she had the most gleeful smile on her face. “All of a sudden anyone else who reposted the photos is hauling ass to get them off.”
“Will this blow back on Fox?” Molly frowned.
“No, I asked the legal team. Everyone heard what Fox requested of Schoolboy Choir fans—they did this on their own initiative.”
The print version of the tabloid remained, Molly thought, but the worst they could do there was print stills with the explicit sections blacked out. Though, if the tabloid’s management had any sense, they’d stay clear even of that. No paper could survive only on print; the tabloid needed to have an online presence, and printing the photos would no doubt be seen as an aggressive move by the band’s fans.
“You haven’t even heard the best part.” So much glee Thea could’ve been a cat who’d found a whole vat of cream.
“There’s more?”
“Get your tablet so you have access to a bigger screen.”
It only took Molly a few seconds. “I have it.”
When Thea told her to look up a major entertainment blog, she was leery. “Thea, I don’t—”
“Trust me, this is a good one.”
Arm around her waist, Fox pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and it gave her the strength she needed. The front page of the site blinked to life on her screen—and it was dominated by a photograph of a grinning Fox kissing Molly on the steps of the hotel this morning.
FOX’S TAKEN, LADIES!!
The accompanying article was relatively small, but it mentioned that Molly was from New Zealand, a librarian, and that her father had been a “disgraced politician.” However, they’d spun the facts so instead of her family’s past being a tawdry piece of gossip, Molly came out looking plucky and strong, her and Fox’s romance a fairytale ending to a tough life.
Astonished, she said, “Did you do this?” to Thea, as Fox glanced at his phone, then stepped out to make a call.
“No, Molly, you did. The media, and more importantly the fans, are charmed by you—you couldn’t have done better if I’d scripted everything.” Open delight. “God, you were so cute. You even blushed!”
“I’m going to strangle you soon,” Molly muttered.
“Like I care. Just keep on being yourself, being the ordinary girl who snagged a rock god.” A pause. “Hmm, I’m going to feed that line to the press. Oh, if you want to get caught being adorable with Fox now and then, that’d be—”
Molly hung up on her laughing sister, then looked at Fox when he came to sit back down beside her on the bed. “The video’s still out there.”
“Yeah, but what dumbass will upload it now, especially when the man responsible has just been arrested and confessed.” He held up his phone. “That’s the message that came in.” Running his hand down her back, he said, “Even if someone is stupid enough to touch it, the piece of shit told the cops he only got about ten minutes of usable footage.”
“What?” Molly turned, heart thumping.
“Turns out he wasn’t a technical genius. No motion sensors. He just switched on the camera and left it running.”
“And”—Molly’s eyes widened—“we came in super late that day.” A tanker had spilled its load not far from the concert site, leading to traffic being held up for over two hours.
“The scum couldn’t get back into the suite to reset the camera because his shift had ended.” Fox closed his hand over her nape. “That’s probably why the tabloid was building up hype—they were hoping for a big surge of initial customers paying to watch it before word got out about how tame it was.”
Molly exhaled because Fox was right. Even if the video did leak one day, all anyone would see was a couple in love, cuddling and kissing and laughing. After surviving the exposure of the still photographs, photographs that could never be totally erased from the Internet, Molly knew she’d be able to handle that. “At least now,” she said to Fox, “you have the compulsory rock star sex tape.”
He squeezed her neck for the smart-aleck comment. “I can’t have that video getting out.” It was a snarl. “My reputation as a badass who does dirty, nasty things to women would be in shreds.”
Giggling, she leaned into him, her hand on his ridged abdomen. “The media likes us now, but they could turn on us in a heartbeat, couldn’t they?”
Fox looked down into her face as she looked up into his. “Yeah, so we don’t live for them, we live for us.”
“Us,” she whispered, her lips parting for his kiss.
The concert the next night blew off the roof. Schoolboy Choir kept playing for two hours beyond the official end time, accepting screamed-out requests from the sold-out crowd. Noah and Abe took the mike a number of times and the crowd chanted “Da-vid, Da-vid” until the drummer surrendered and laughingly added his voice to one of the band’s popular songs.
Molly was surprised to find that David could sing, and quite well. All the men could, though none had the ferocious power of Fox’s vocal cords. But no one could pound a beat like David, caress the keys like Abe, or the guitar strings like Noah. Their diverse range of talents was what made the band so incredible as a unit.
“Thank you!” Fox yelled into the mike after what they’d announced as their final song. “You’ve been an amazing audience—and thanks for some other things I’ll get in trouble for if I mention them too specifically!”
The crowd roared.
And the band did one more song, pure unfettered hard rock, before leaving the stage. Fox dragged her into a kiss the instant they were clear. He was sweaty and pumped and gorgeous.
“Fuck, man,” Noah muttered with a scowl. “I really need a girl backstage.”
Fox snorted. “You have about three hundred girls lined up outside your door every night.”
“Yeah, yeah, but it’s not the same as having a Molly.” The guitarist swung his arm around Molly and smacked a kiss on her cheek before heading farther backstage.
“He’s right,” Fox said, dimple on display, “it’s not the same.”
She had to kiss it, to his chuckle. “You must be exhausted,” she said afterward, exhilarated from having witnessed what she knew was a concert that would go down in rock history. “Starving, too.”
“It hasn’t hit yet—I’m riding on adrenaline.” Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, his energy sky-high from the rush of performing, he headed toward his dressing room. The concert attendees who’d won a backstage pass through a radio contest hadn’t yet been escorted up, so it was an easy walk.
David and Abe were standing outside their rooms, swigging on chilled bottles of water. Abe threw a bottle to Fox, who caught it one-handed. Noah appeared in his open doorway the next instant. “That might be the best concert we’ve ever done.”
“I hope the crew got it all on tape.” David glanced at Molly after she returned from Fox’s dressing room with a fresh T-shirt for him, his own thrown out into the crowd as had become tradition. “What did you think, Moll?”
“Incredible, a legend in the making.” The entire crew had stopped and listened as much as they could, not wanting to miss out. “Now what you need to do is get some food into your bodies, followed by a good night’s rest.”
Abe, David, and Noah grinned at her before saying, “Yes, Molly,” in unison.
Well aware she was being teased, she made a face at them.
“Don’t worry, boys.” Fox tucked Molly to his side. “She’ll be far too busy to hassle you tonight or tomorrow morning.”
Molly elbowed him. “You are so not getting lucky tonight.”
Noah hooted just as one of the crew called out a warning that the backstage fans were about to come in. Leaving the band in the corridor, Molly slipped out of sight. She had no problem with being known as Fox’s girl, but she had no desire whatsoever to be a celebrity.
Fox winked at her as she entered the dressing room, and she knew he understood. Just as she understood that he thrived in the spotlight, in the surge of energy that came with performing live, and in interacting with the band’s fans. If he’d needed it all the time, they would’ve never worked, but he was a musician at heart, liked the peace of home to create.
So they fit.
