“You should.” He couldn’t keep the demand out of his voice. “But until you do, I’ll take questions.” As long as she came to him, he could handle anything; all he needed was a chance to fight for her. “We agreed on that?”

She nodded, her fingers playing with the edges of his jacket.

“Molly?”

Clear brown eyes holding his own without blinking. “I’ll always ask,” she said. “I don’t have it in me to stay quiet—not about something like that. I’ll try to be an adult about it, but I can’t guarantee no screaming and yelling.”

“There it is,” Fox murmured, his dimple appearing as his smile lit up his eyes. “There’s my Molly’s mouth.”

The affectionate caress of his words broke Molly. Rising on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, hating that she might’ve hurt him. She wanted to trust him without question, wasn’t sure the capacity for such faith hadn’t been crushed out of her in childhood.

The fact Fox hadn’t berated her for her need to ask, had instead done what was necessary to ease her worries, it meant more than he could ever know. Her father had always belittled and made her mother feel stupid on the rare occasions when Karen Webster had even mildly questioned his behavior.

Swamped with what she felt for Fox, she poured it into her kiss. And when the smooth metal of his lip ring invited her to play, she did. His responding chuckle was sexy, was Fox. “And that’s definitely my Molly.”

She wanted to be his Molly. So much.

Taking control of the kiss, he nudged her into a seated position on the bed. When she lifted her hands to his jeans, he shook his head. “I’ll take care of you tonight, baby. I think you need it.”

Molly grabbed his hand, shook her head. “This hurt you, too.” Kissing his palm, she pressed it against her cheek. “Let’s take care of each other.”

Fox’s eyes flashed, and she was flat on her back in bed a split-second later, his body big and heavy on her own.

“The things you say, Molly,” he said in that whiskey-and-sin voice, his bristled jaw rasping over the palm she lifted to his jaw. “I’d planned to seduce you, coax you, and now all I want to do is push my cock into you, your skin touching mine, your heart beating against mine.”

“Yes,” she whispered, pushing his jacket off his shoulders.

The action made him exhale harshly and then he rose off the bed to strip down to the skin. Always he’d been her beautiful rock star. Today, his body was no less beautiful, but all she saw was the potent emotion in his eyes, an emotion that echoed the painful, hopeful thing inside her.

Needing him, she slipped off her panties and held out a hand. “Fox.”

He came to her in a storm of masculine heat and blunt sexual words that made her feel adored. Breath lost when he entered her, she blinked back tears at the sheer rightness of their intimate connection, skin sliding against skin, breaths mingling.

Then Fox intertwined his hands with her own, pressing them on either side of her head, and she lost the battle. Kissing away her tears, Fox attempted to pull out, but she held him too possessively, her legs locked around his hips.

Shuddering, he said her name, buried his face against the side of hers. Rolling with his shallow thrusts, she turned her face to kiss his jaw, any part of him she could reach.

He lifted his head, met her kiss, his hair tumbled across his forehead and his fingers locked with hers.

“My Fox,” she whispered, and then there were no more words, only the searing ache of a bond new and vulnerable and with the potential to break them both.

Fox brushed Molly’s hair gently back from her face as she slept curled up against his chest, shaking inside at the glory of what had passed between them tonight.

“My Fox.”

No one had ever claimed him in such a way, a way that had nothing to do with obligation or money or fame. No one had ever cared enough to be possessive of him. Not of Fox, the rock musician who made a nice accessory or trophy to brag about, but of Fox the man. The fact Molly had been pissed off about the shirt thing? He fucking loved it, even if it was an uncivilized reaction. He wasn’t exactly civilized where the woman in his arms was concerned. But he had to pretend he was, at least for a little while longer, give his lover time to come to terms with the violent beauty of what lived between them.

If she took the ultimate risk, if she came to him despite the fears that haunted her, if she chose Zachary Fox as no one else had ever done… she’d fucking own him, whether she knew it or not.

Molly had to have two cups of tar-strong coffee to wake up the next morning. Still not quite human, she decided to wear a shirt with an old-fashioned tall collar edged in lace. A little Victorian with its long sleeves plus the white ribbon and lace in the detailing, the vintage find always made her feel pretty. She paired it with a simple calf-length black skirt that came with a wide belt, and her trusty black leather boots, the heel barely there to allow for easy walking around the large and busy library.

The rock star in her bed whistled when she exited the bathroom after pulling her hair into a neat twist and putting on her basic work makeup—nothing much more than a lick of mascara and gloss. “I want to tempt you back into bed,” he said, “except I think you’ve worn out my cock.”

Knowing she was being teased and not ready to think about the passionate power of the previous night, Molly decided to respond to his earthy sexuality in the same vein. “Wasn’t I the one who woke up with something long and impatient sliding inside me?” she said through her blush.

His dimple came into view. “I like this naughty side. Show me more.”

God, he made her feel so young and happy. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.” Picking up her purse and fighting the urge to kiss that dimple because she wasn’t sure she’d stop once she started, she pulled out her spare apartment key and set it on the bedside table.

It was the first time she’d given a key to anyone other than Charlotte, but Fox was already so deep inside her, it made little sense to keep him out of her apartment. “Lock up when you leave. Though,” she added, the “naughty side” in fine form this morning, “I won’t kick you out if I come home to find you naked in bed.”

Completely unconcerned by his nudity, Fox walked over to kiss her his way, his lips curved in a smile that hit her sideways. “Have a good day.” A bold, petting stroke of his hand over her butt. “I’ll see you tonight.”

There was, Molly thought as she walked up the steps to the main entrance of the library, something to be said for having her day start with a kiss and a smile from her gorgeous, talented man. It only got better when said man had an extravagant bouquet delivered to her: two dozen roses in his favorite color, arranged in a clear crystal vase. There was no card, but she didn’t need one—not with the adorable stuffed koala sitting in the sea of scented red.

She knew her grin had to be foolish, but she didn’t fight it, picking up and setting the koala beside her computer before turning to face her colleagues, all of whom were agog. Charlotte had the same reaction after Molly showed her a photo of the bouquet at lunch. “I think you should keep him,” her best friend said solemnly as they sat in the vibrant international food hall they’d chosen for today. “Also, find out if he has a twin brother.”

Grinning, Molly sipped some of the miso soup she’d ordered to have with her sandwich. “Won’t T-Rex mind if you run off with a rock star? He seems to be unable to do without you.”

Charlotte stabbed at her sushi. “T-Rex can go bite himself.”

Startled at the hostile statement from her sweet friend, Molly pushed at Charlotte’s practical little black heel with her foot. “Spill.”