Fifteen minutes and surely more than a single block later, loud cheers told her the car was back. It prowled into the parking lot in Fox’s hands a few minutes after that, and she knew he must’ve stopped where the attendant’s friends could admire the vehicle. “Did you have fun?” she asked, getting in when he reached across to pop open the passenger door.

“Not as much fun as I have with you.” Tapping her cheek, he pulled out. “Breakfast?”

“My place. Your reward for pretending you enjoyed the shopping.”

“I do like shopping.”

“Liar.” She’d glimpsed the telltale twitches.

 “Well, I liked watching your ass when you bent over to do your shopping.”

The butterflies in her stomach swirled and dipped in dizzying flight. “You’re impossible.” She threatened to peel off the sticker he’d told her needed to come off with water.

 “I think you want to be naked over my lap.”

Throat dry and thigh muscles going tight at that deep-voiced response, she sat on her hands, not sure of her impulse control where he was concerned. They made it as far as the kitchen table—where she found herself bent over the smooth wood, her jeans and panties around her ankles and her fingers clawing at the tabletop as Fox pounded into her in a single powerful stroke.

Hand in her hair, he tilted her head to the side and bent over to bite down on the spot where her neck flowed into her shoulder, his chest pressed against her back. “You are so fucking sexy, Molly.”

Fracturing within and unable to do much of anything in this position, Molly gave in to the experience of being taken by a man who made no bones about being turned on by her body and who said low, hot things that made her want to whimper and beg for mercy.

Fox, however, wasn’t in the mood to draw things out. Pushing into her after five deep, fast thrusts, he pinned her in place for a long, slow minute as his body shuddered, before coming down to kiss her neck. He’d shaved this morning, his jaw smooth against her skin. “Give me a sec and I’ll take care of you.”

Molly shivered at the way he said that, the blatant sexual promise in his voice. “That’s okay,” she whispered, though her breasts ached, her body on the brink. “You took plenty care of me last night.”

Pulling out to her gasp, he said, “That’s not how I work. Stay in place or I really will spank your sweet ass.”

Molly set herself to rights the instant he disappeared into the bathroom, the idea of giving him that particular view mortifying. Fox took one look at her when he exited, sans facial tattoo and T-shirt, and backed her straight onto the table. Where he flipped her around and, pulling down her jeans and panties, proceeded to make good on his threat, his hand caressing each cheek before he delivered four light swats that almost pitched her into orgasm.

That was only the start.

His body a muscled wall at her back, he tugged her head to the side again, his voice deliciously low in ear. “I told you I was going to punish you.” His fingers slipped between her thighs from the back, the callused tips rubbing the engorged tissues of her entrance with torturous subtlety. “And”—a lick along the edge of her earlobe—“I don’t think a naughty woman who teases her man all morning should get to come without earning it.”

Her man.

Molly barely had time to process what he’d said before Fox did something with his fingers that arced sweet white fire through her nerve endings, the pleasure a lightning storm.

Half an hour later, she tried desperately to catch a breath where she lay naked on the sofa, one of her feet flat on the floor, the other on the cushions. Part of her wanted to hide in red-faced embarrassment at her splayed position, but that part was buried under the exhaustion of a pleasure that had turned her bones to noodles.

A very satisfied-looking Fox, his jeans still on, knelt on the floor beside her. Placing his hand on her abdomen, he touched his lips to hers, his tongue owning her mouth. “How about I make breakfast?” Self-assured fingertips around one of her swollen nipples, a nipple he’d sucked until she begged.

It wasn’t the only thing he’d sucked.

She slapped at his shoulder, her aim off. “Be quiet.” Another ragged breath. “I’ll make breakfast—soon as I can move.” Right now, her muscles were jelly. “I think I might be dead.”

Chuckling, Fox kissed her again, stroking his hand up and down her body until she wrapped an arm around him, loving the sensation of being petted by that strong hand. Her stomach chose to growl right on cue.

Breaking the kiss on a blush that made him dip his head, lick along the upper curve of her breast as if to taste the color, she said, “I need my robe.” Before he made her forget everything.

Once again, he grabbed his T-shirt. “Raise your arms.”

He bit teasingly at the side of one of her kiss-reddened breasts before tugging the soft gray fabric down over her head. Padding to the bathroom to tidy herself up a bit, she returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, her feet stuffed into fluffy purple slippers shaped like monster claws that Charlie had given her as a joke gift, her hair corralled into a loose braid, and fresh panties on under the T-shirt.

 Fox was sprawled on the couch, the remote in hand while a cartoon played on the television screen. Stomach dipping at how right he looked there, how painfully good this felt, she forced her gaze off him and put on the coffee, then began to gather up the ingredients for omelets.

Since that would hardly fill Fox up, however, she put out some bread to be toasted, then went hunting to see what else she had. “Fox, do you want fried potatoes?” It wasn’t like he had anything to worry about in the weight department—the man was pure firm, strokable muscle, the energy he burned onstage brutal.

He also, her body reminded her on a ripple of remembered pleasure, burned energy in other ways.

“Hell yeah.” A grin over his shoulder that cut through the afterglow to hit her straight in the heart. “Come kiss me.”

 “Not risking it while I’m starving,” she said, using humor to bury her worry at how fast she was falling for a man she could never hope to claim. “Next thing you know, I’ll be naked again.”

“I’ll never say no to naked Molly.” He prowled up off the sofa to take a seat on a stool on the other side of the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee while she quickly peeled and sliced the potatoes, the pan already heating up.

“What do you think about Sydney?” he asked without warning.

Disappointment pinched at Molly at the idea of losing even a tiny part of their month together, but she wasn’t surprised he was interested in a visit. The Australian city was only a three-hour flight away.

“I visited with Charlie last year and loved it. We were total tourists”—she laughed softly at the thought of how much fun they’d had—“even did a cruise around Sydney Harbour.” Putting the potatoes in the pan, she looked up to meet the dark green of Fox’s gaze, hoping he couldn’t see how much she was already missing him. “You can book flights easy enough, even at short notice.”

“I’m going over end of the coming week.” He grabbed a piece of the green pepper she’d diced for the omelets. “Favor for a friend. He set up a charity concert, but the entire band he booked just went into rehab.”

“What?” Molly turned around. “All of them?”

“Might be a publicity stunt, but yeah, it does happen. Except for those premade boy bands”—a smirk—“a lot of us were friends first, and friends get into bad shit together.” He ate another piece of the pepper. “Who else are you going to shoot up with but the people you trust most?”

Molly had never heard even a whisper of drugs attached to Fox, wouldn’t have been attracted to him if she had, but she couldn’t not take this opportunity to make certain. “Have you—”