His hands warm on her lower back, he pressed his forehead against hers afterward, their breath mingling. “I have a plan for Sydney.”
Molly stifled her immediate negative reaction, unable to back away after the emotional honesty of the past few minutes. Fox, she thought, wouldn’t be so tender with her, only to disregard her deepest fear. “Tell me.”
“You’re going to be a roadie.”
Blinking, she stared at him. “I am?”
“Yep. Stick a Schoolboy Choir crew cap on your head, give you a pair of big, black-framed glasses and a clipboard, and you’ll become invisible to the media.” A coaxing kind of a kiss, his hand cupping her nape. “Say yes, Molly.” Wickedness in the smoky green.
Molly felt her heart catch; she’d much rather see him this way than angry and hurt.
His next words were as wicked as his gaze, as his smile. “I don’t think my c**k will survive a weekend without you.”
It wasn’t the most romantic invitation, but that did nothing to alter the fact that he was planning to go to a lot of trouble to have her with him. Her, Molly, when he could have any woman for the taking at the concert. Inhaling a deep breath, she seriously considered his suggestion. No one would ever mistake her for a starlet or supermodel, especially with the crew accoutrements Fox had suggested, and if she dressed down as she assumed the crew did.
It wasn’t as if she’d run the risk of a reporter spontaneously recognizing her from the old scandal. Molly Buchanan had been a late-blooming and gawky teen with braces whose br**sts had barely budded. Molly Webster was a twenty-four-year-old with a rock star for a lover, a rock star who loved her curves. So long as she didn’t do anything to make someone pay specific attention to her past, no one would ever connect the girl with the woman. Her colleagues at the library certainly hadn’t.
“I think,” she said, adrenaline pumping through her veins, “I like the idea of being undercover.”
“That’s my Molly.” This time his kiss was unashamedly sexual, his arousal long and thick against her inner thigh. Breathing in shallow pants when he broke the kiss, she watched his mouth as he spoke, his lip ring an outward sign of who he was: Fox wasn’t a bad boy—he was the harder, more demanding, grown-up version.
“We’ll fly out on different flights,” he told her. “That’ll make sure no one connects the two of us.” Hands on her thighs, he smiled that smile, the one that dared her to do naughty, naughty things. “Ride me.”
“I…I’ve never…” Sucking in air, heat rising up her body in a lush pink wave that made Fox cuddle her closer, she admitted the truth. “Not on my own.” He’d always helped her. “Teach me how.”
He used the hand he had on the back of her neck to haul her down to his mouth, his tongue thrusting aggressively between her lips. “You’re gonna kill me,” he said afterward, cheekbones painted with a red flush. “I never was into the whole professor-student deal, but I’ve changed my mind.”
“Fox.” She tugged at his lip ring in retaliation for the sensual teasing, playfully threatening to pull it off.
Smile deep, he positioned her until the blunt head of his c**k nudged at her, but he didn’t allow her to push down. “Use your hand to guide me.” He cupped her jaw, holding her in place for what she’d come to think of as a “just because” kiss, indulging himself in her.
It made her melt.
“Professor Fox,” he said against her lips, “promises to grade you fairly.”
“You,” she said, a wild sensual joy within, “shouldn’t be set loose on unsuspecting women.”
An unrepentant look. “Class is in session, Miss Webster.”
So wet it would’ve been embarrassing if she weren’t with Fox, with whom nothing was taboo, she reached down between them to close her hand over his thickness.
“Ah, damn, that feels good.”
Her br**sts aching at that masculine growl, Molly discovered a long-hidden streak of wickedness within herself. “Enough for an A?”
“The exam”—the tendons in Fox’s neck strained taut—“is ongoing.” He hissed out a breath as she took the first inch of his rigid length inside her, her tissues stretching deliciously.
“Oh.” Removing her hand, she pushed down, eager to feel all of him.
Fox shuddered, one strong arm locked around her upper back, his other hand on her thigh. “Move on me, baby.”
He kissed her endlessly as she rocked on him, his free hand shifting to lie on her butt, urging her into a faster rhythm. She might’ve been the one on top, Molly thought before thinking became a vain hope, but Fox was in charge. The insight only made her wetter, needier, and soon the only sounds in the room were those of their rasped breaths and of skin slapping on skin.
When she came apart in his arms on a breathless scream, her vision hazing, he held her close and whispered, “My beautiful Molly.”
Another piece of her heart splintered away.
A second later, he thrust deep, holding himself there as he came in an intimate pulse inside her. One hand in his hair, her other arm around the width of his shoulders, she held him through his pleasure, emotion a knot inside her chest… and spluttered with surprised laughter when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her throat and said, “We need to schedule a retest as soon as possible—it appears Professor Fox has difficulty grading and f**king at the same time.”