Rock Addiction (Rock Kiss 1)

She stopped with the door partly open. “Yes?”

“Why bother?”

“Because you’re my family now.” She’d lost one already, couldn’t bear to see this one fall apart too. Last time, she’d been young and scared and alone. This time, she was an adult who was learning her own strength—and she had Fox.

A month into the tour and three weeks after Abe’s binge, all the tension had dissipated and Molly felt at home with the entire group. The crew teased her good-naturedly now and then about being an “intern” but said they’d have her back anytime. She did still pitch in around her own work—which was gathering steam, word of her skills spreading through the recommendations of satisfied clients.

It felt as if all was right with her world as she and Fox walked to their suite after the Chicago concert. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the feel of thousands of people singing along to the music, the thundering power of it indescribable. No wonder Fox remained wired up afterward, sometimes for hours.

“I want you na**d the instant after we walk through the door,” he said, his body heat kissing her skin. “On your hands and knees.”

Her face flushed. Sex was always hard and fast the first time when he got like this. Then he’d go slow, every ounce of that untamed energy focused only on her as they explored one another and their fantasies. There’d been scarves involved last time, and he was playfully threatening to buy fur-lined handcuffs. But he was generous with his own body, too, letting her kiss and caress and pet to her heart’s content—just not at the start. Wired as he was, he didn’t have the patience.

Smiling hello at the private security guard assigned to monitor this floor, the other members of the band in suites just down from theirs, Molly walked inside. Fox paused for a second to say something to the guard.

Her fingers were on the hooks of her pretty, fitted black jacket embellished with lace panels on either side when she froze, the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. Having shut the door, Fox, his body primed as it pushed into her backside, went to reach for the button on the back of her skirt when he, too, went motionless.

“That’s not your perfume,” he said, pinpointing what had set her off.

It was too sweet for her, too opulent in its sensuality. “Maybe a housekeeper made a mistake?” The band had a standing order in all the hotels they used that no one was to enter their suites without a specific request.

“She’d have had to get past the guard.” Stepping in front of her, he headed to the bedroom. “Stay here.”

Molly followed at his heels, got a scowl, but he didn’t order her back. A second later, they were at the open bedroom door.

The girl inside couldn’t have been more than nineteen, every inch of her sleek and golden, her perky br**sts tipped with pale pink ni**les, the flesh between her thighs bare. Molly saw all that at a glance because the girl was reclining on the king-size bed on her elbows, her legs drawn up at the knees and thighs spread.

Black stilettos and a mane of glossy caramel-colored hair arranged artfully over one shoulder completed the look. “Hi,” she breathed, after dismissing Molly with a single, contemptuous glance. “I thought you might want some company.”

Jaw a vicious line, Fox’s hand fisted. Slipping past him before he could give free rein to his temper, Molly grabbed the scrap of sequined fabric that was apparently the groupie’s dress and threw it at her. “If you don’t want to be arrested and thrown in jail for the night, put that on and haul ass.” No way was she touching the G-string panties discarded on the carpet.

The girl pursed pouty lips painted a wet pink. “Fox wants me here, don’t you, honey?” Her eyes went to the zipper of his jeans.

Molly felt Fox snap. Striding across the room, he would’ve taken the girl’s arm and dragged her out if Molly hadn’t stepped in front of him. “She’s not worth the aggravation,” she whispered, one hand on his cheek to force him to meet her gaze. “Touch her and she’ll sue or sell her story to the tabloids.”

Fox’s eyes glittered but he didn’t push past her. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed his phone and made a call, barking a single order. “In here now!”

The security guard entered the room less than three seconds later, his face going ashen at the sight of the intruder. “I threw you off the floor.”

The groupie, apparently understanding she truly was unwanted at long last, grabbed her dress and pulled it over her head. “A real man let me in.” Her eyes slanted to Fox again as she picked up her purse. “Anytime, Fox darling. Just call me.” She brazenly threw her panties and a scrap of paper holding a phone number on the bedside table.

“Sir, do you want me to contact the police?” the security guard asked as the intruder began to saunter out.

“Yes.”

The girl spun around. “Fox!”

“Get the f**k out.” With that, he turned his back on the guard and the groupie both, his breathing low and uneven.

Shaking her head at the guard when it appeared the other man might say something, Molly waved him and the screeching girl out. Not until she heard the front door close, locking out the sounds of the girl’s continued disbelief, did she speak. “Fox,” she said softly, “if you have her arrested, the story will—”

“I don’t care.” Reaching out, he began to tug open the hooks that held the lace-paneled jacket tight to her body. “Let them talk about it. We don’t press charges, next time some woman’s going to figure she has the right to walk into our home and our bedroom. They must think I’m a goddamn lowlife—that all a groupie has to do is flash her pu**y at me and I’ll cheat.”