The things he said… “I didn’t think you even noticed me.”
“Oh, I noticed you—especially this mouth.” A single finger tracing her lips, his next words not the sexual ones she’d expected. “You smiled at Thea, and it was a punch to the goddamn gut.”
It was such a romantic thing to say, and such a Fox way to say it. “I’ve never had a reaction to a man like I had to you,” she admitted. “If you’d crooked a finger, I would’ve probably followed you into a dark stairwell.”
Wicked delight in his smile. “Now you’re putting ideas in my head.” Lifting her up again, her legs around his waist, he initiated another lazy kiss, all tongue and wet heat. It was a stark contrast to the other textures that touched her skin. The well-washed denim of his jeans, the crisp cotton of his shirt, the hard angles of his belt buckle, the heat of his skin, the cool bite of his teeth.
She moaned. “Oh, I like this.”
“You were right though,” he said, nibbling and kissing at her mouth as he spoke. “This feels good, but skin on skin feels even better.”
Running her fingers through the chocolate silk of his hair, Molly raised the topic she’d earlier shelved. “What happened downstairs?” Something had.
His jaw a hard line, he said, “One of the execs was about to put the moves on you.”
“What?” Molly shook her head. “Fox, I only spoke to that brunette. No one else paid me the least attention.”
Fox raised an eyebrow. “Like I didn’t at Thea’s party?”
Oh. “You know I’d never—”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m rational about it.” One more kiss before he slid her oh-so-slowly down his body, the friction exquisite.
Molly rose on tiptoe to follow his mouth as he pushed off the wall and straightened to his full height. Knowing what she did of his internal scars, she hated that he’d worried about losing her for even a single second. “Don’t go.”
“Molly.” Stroking his hands down her body, he palmed her ass and they indulged themselves in one another for long minutes.
Her lips deliciously kiss-swollen, she resisted when Fox took her hand to lead her to the living area of the suite. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
His eyes dropped, a very satisfied, very male smile on his lips. “I think you should stay sticky.”
Making a face at him, she ducked into the bathroom off their bedroom and had a lightning-fast shower, hair pinned up. She was just about to step back out clad in the plush hotel robe when she heard voices. Hesitating, she looked down at her robe. It covered her neck to ankle, but it was still a robe and she didn’t know who was out there.
It only took a couple of minutes to find a change of underwear and a summery dress— Underwear! Her face burned as she realized her clothes from the party were currently in a puddle beside the elevator.
Chapter 28
Mortified, Molly took a baby step outside the bedroom as soon as she was dressed, hoping no one would notice her in the large suite. The first thing she did was glance toward the elevator. No clothes. When Fox winked at her as soon as she turned in his direction, she knew he’d thrown the incriminating evidence somewhere where Noah wouldn’t immediately see it.
The blond guitarist wrapped his arm around her shoulders when she got to him. “Why, you’ve changed, Molly.” A sniff. “Showered, too. How interesting.”
Molly elbowed him, having learned by now that while Noah could be glacial and distant at times, he also had a wicked sense of humor around people he trusted. Sometime in the past few weeks, Molly had fallen into that category. Now, laughing, he pulled her close to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Fox’s been telling me all about the benefits of having a girl of his own.”
“I think you’ve had more than one girl,” Molly said as Fox grabbed a seat in one of the midnight-blue armchairs by the large plate-glass windows that formed two corners of the suite, then held out a hand.
No longer shy around the other members of the band, she slid into his lap.
Noah grabbed the facing seat. “I may have had one or two”—dark gray eyes dancing—“but I’ve never had my own girl.” The slightest hesitation before he continued. “Didn’t seem worth the bother. No offense, Molly, but having a girl of his own is a lot of work for a man.”
She arched her eyebrows. “Oh, really?”
“It’s not like Fox can pat you on the ass and say ‘nice ride, honey,’ then show you the door when he’s done.” Grinning at her narrow-eyed look, the guitarist leaned back in his armchair. “No, he has to talk and listen, and when you get mad, he has to grovel and make it up to you.”
“You might grovel,” Fox drawled, spreading his fingers on Molly’s back. “I, on the other hand, apologize manfully and sex Molly into forgiving me.”
“You’re both as bad as each other.” Scowling at her rock star and his unrepentant friend, she got up off Fox’s lap. “I’m going to order room service. I don’t think my palate was refined enough for the canapés downstairs.”
“What the hell were those orange things?” Noah kicked out his jean-clad legs after she’d passed by to grab the menu sitting on the lovely little carved table a few feet away.
“Fish eggs,” Fox told him. “Expensive shit.”
“Tasted like it, too.” Both men laughed before Noah turned to her. “Can you order me a burger, Moll?”