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.
“Sure.”
“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.
“Okay.”
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.
“Pick you?”
“For tonight.”
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 br**sts 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.