Nalini Singh - Rock Addiction

Strangling the thought before it could ruin their day, she went to the best stall. “Some of it is actually real. Like this.” She picked up a teacup and saucer in beautiful condition. “See the mark on the bottom?” she whispered. “And they’re selling it for only five dollars.”

Fox pulled out a five and handed it to the stall owner before she could go for her wallet. Opening her mouth to protest, she saw the glint in his eye and knew he was expecting it. “Thank you,” she said instead, giving the cup and saucer to the stall owner’s son so he could wrap it up in cushioning newspaper.

“Good choice, baby.” His breath warm against her skin as he leaned in, one hand on her lower back, he said, “Don’t you feel guilty fleecing these nice people?”

She pointed to another similar set as her nipples grew tight and sensitive against the lace of her bra. “I saw that at our version of Walmart last week for seven bucks. He’s selling it for twenty. Trust me, they make their money.”

Fox carried her purchases for her as she rummaged for treasures. He was unexpectedly good-natured about the time she spent, even found an old metal lighter he thought David would get a kick out of. “He doesn’t smoke anymore, but he collects these.”

A fun two hours later, Molly picked up the fresh vegetables she wanted and they headed back to the horse-racing track turned parking lot where Fox’s car sat unmolested, the teenager on stern guard. Seeing Fox, he grinned and shoved his hands into the pockets of baggy camo cargos belted so low on his hips Molly half expected them to fall off. “So, we’re sweet, right?”

Fox fist-bumped the boy in answer. Glancing at Molly after he’d put the shopping in the trunk, he said, “You mind riding in the back?”

“That’s not happening.” A five-year-old would have trouble squeezing in there. “I’ll grab a coffee and wait while you two go for your ride.”

Kissing her to the kid’s wolf whistle, his hand cupping the side of her face with a tenderness she was coming to expect from her hard-rock lover, Fox said, “I’ll be back soon.”

Happiness floated in her blood, tiny bursts of starlight.

Fear attempted to take hold on its heels, but Molly locked it out. Not today, not this month.

She’d have endless time for regrets after Fox was gone. And though she knew it could never be any other way, for a piercing instant as she watched Fox laugh with the excited teenager, the sound entangling her heart, she wished it could. Wished her life had been different. Wished she was the kind of brave, strong woman who could give a man like Fox what he needed not just for a single month, but for a lifetime.

Fifteen minutes and surely more than a single block later, loud cheers told her the car was back. It prowled into the parking lot in Fox’s hands a few minutes after that, and she knew he must’ve stopped where the attendant’s friends could admire the vehicle. “Did you have fun?” she asked, getting in when he reached across to pop open the passenger door.

“Not as much fun as I have with you.” Tapping her cheek, he pulled out. “Breakfast?”

“My place. Your reward for pretending you enjoyed the shopping.”

“I do like shopping.”

“Liar.” She’d glimpsed the telltale twitches.

 “Well, I liked watching your ass when you bent over to do your shopping.”

The butterflies in her stomach swirled and dipped in dizzying flight. “You’re impossible.” She threatened to peel off the sticker he’d told her needed to come off with water.

 “I think you want to be naked over my lap.”

Throat dry and thigh muscles going tight at that deep-voiced response, she sat on her hands, not sure of her impulse control where he was concerned. They made it as far as the kitchen table—where she found herself bent over the smooth wood, her jeans and panties around her ankles and her fingers clawing at the tabletop as Fox pounded into her in a single powerful stroke.

Hand in her hair, he tilted her head to the side and bent over to bite down on the spot where her neck flowed into her shoulder, his chest pressed against her back. “You are so fucking sexy, Molly.”

Fracturing within and unable to do much of anything in this position, Molly gave in to the experience of being taken by a man who made no bones about being turned on by her body and who said low, hot things that made her want to whimper and beg for mercy.

Fox, however, wasn’t in the mood to draw things out. Pushing into her after five deep, fast thrusts, he pinned her in place for a long, slow minute as his body shuddered, before coming down to kiss her neck. He’d shaved this morning, his jaw smooth against her skin. “Give me a sec and I’ll take care of you.”

Molly shivered at the way he said that, the blatant sexual promise in his voice. “That’s okay,” she whispered, though her breasts ached, her body on the brink. “You took plenty care of me last night.”

Pulling out to her gasp, he said, “That’s not how I work. Stay in place or I really will spank your sweet ass.”

Molly set herself to rights the instant he disappeared into the bathroom, the idea of giving him that particular view mortifying. Fox took one look at her when he exited, sans facial tattoo and T-shirt, and backed her straight onto the table. Where he flipped her around and, pulling down her jeans and panties, proceeded to make good on his threat, his hand caressing each cheek before he delivered four light swats that almost pitched her into orgasm.

That was only the start.

His body a muscled wall at her back, he tugged her head to the side again, his voice deliciously low in ear. “I told you I was going to punish you.” His fingers slipped between her thighs from the back, the callused tips rubbing the engorged tissues of her entrance with torturous subtlety. “And”—a lick along the edge of her earlobe—“I don’t think a naughty woman who teases her man all morning should get to come without earning it.”

Her man.

Molly barely had time to process what he’d said before Fox did something with his fingers that arced sweet white fire through her nerve endings, the pleasure a lightning storm.

Half an hour later, she tried desperately to catch a breath where she lay naked on the sofa, one of her feet flat on the floor, the other on the cushions. Part of her wanted to hide in red-faced embarrassment at her splayed position, but that part was buried under the exhaustion of a pleasure that had turned her bones to noodles.

A very satisfied-looking Fox, his jeans still on, knelt on the floor beside her. Placing his hand on her abdomen, he touched his lips to hers, his tongue owning her mouth. “How about I make breakfast?” Self-assured fingertips around one of her swollen nipples, a nipple he’d sucked until she begged.

It wasn’t the only thing he’d sucked.

She slapped at his shoulder, her aim off. “Be quiet.” Another ragged breath. “I’ll make breakfast—soon as I can move.” Right now, her muscles were jelly. “I think I might be dead.”

Chuckling, Fox kissed her again, stroking his hand up and down her body until she wrapped an arm around him, loving the sensation of being petted by that strong hand. Her stomach chose to growl right on cue.

Breaking the kiss on a blush that made him dip his head, lick along the upper curve of her breast as if to taste the color, she said, “I need my robe.” Before he made her forget everything.

Once again, he grabbed his T-shirt. “Raise your arms.”

He bit teasingly at the side of one of her kiss-reddened breasts before tugging the soft gray fabric down over her head. Padding to the bathroom to tidy herself up a bit, she returned to the kitchen a few minutes later, her feet stuffed into fluffy purple slippers shaped like monster claws that Charlie had given her as a joke gift, her hair corralled into a loose braid, and fresh panties on under the T-shirt.

 Fox was sprawled on the couch, the remote in hand while a cartoon played on the television screen. Stomach dipping at how right he looked there, how painfully good this felt, she forced her gaze off him and put on the coffee, then began to gather up the ingredients for omelets.

Since that would hardly fill Fox up, however, she put out some bread to be toasted, then went hunting to see what else she had. “Fox, do you want fried potatoes?” It wasn’t like he had anything to worry about in the weight department—the man was pure firm, strokable muscle, the energy he burned onstage brutal.

He also, her body reminded her on a ripple of remembered pleasure, burned energy in other ways.

“Hell yeah.” A grin over his shoulder that cut through the afterglow to hit her straight in the heart. “Come kiss me.”

 “Not risking it while I’m starving,” she said, using humor to bury her worry at how fast she was falling for a man she could never hope to claim. “Next thing you know, I’ll be naked again.”

“I’ll never say no to naked Molly.” He prowled up off the sofa to take a seat on a stool on the other side of the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee while she quickly peeled and sliced the potatoes, the pan already heating up.

“What do you think about Sydney?” he asked without warning.

Disappointment pinched at Molly at the idea of losing even a tiny part of their month together, but she wasn’t surprised he was interested in a visit. The Australian city was only a three-hour flight away.

“I visited with Charlie last year and loved it. We were total tourists”—she laughed softly at the thought of how much fun they’d had—“even did a cruise around Sydney Harbour.” Putting the potatoes in the pan, she looked up to meet the dark green of Fox’s gaze, hoping he couldn’t see how much she was already missing him. “You can book flights easy enough, even at short notice.”

“I’m going over end of the coming week.” He grabbed a piece of the green pepper she’d diced for the omelets. “Favor for a friend. He set up a charity concert, but the entire band he booked just went into rehab.”

“What?” Molly turned around. “All of them?”

“Might be a publicity stunt, but yeah, it does happen. Except for those premade boy bands”—a smirk—“a lot of us were friends first, and friends get into bad shit together.” He ate another piece of the pepper. “Who else are you going to shoot up with but the people you trust most?”

Molly had never heard even a whisper of drugs attached to Fox, wouldn’t have been attracted to him if she had, but she couldn’t not take this opportunity to make certain. “Have you—”

An immediate shake of his head. “No, not my deal. Music’s my addiction.”

Relaxing, she whipped up the first omelet. “I didn’t realize bands as big as Schoolboy Choir could move so fast.”

“Normally no, but like I said, Marc’s a buddy, and he’s raising money for a children’s charity. It would’ve been a problem if we were already doing a concert in the city, but since that isn’t the case, there’s no bullshit red tape.”

She poured the omelet into a second pan. “So he’ll refund the people who wanted specifically to see the other band?”

A nod. “He figures he’ll make that up with the increased ticket sales.” Fox shrugged, his shoulders rippling with the lithe muscle that felt so beautiful under her touch. “Plus, we’re here, and it’s a low-stress outdoor gig.”

Putting the fried potatoes on a couple of thick paper towels to drain, she flipped the omelet. “I’m sure you’ll draw a huge crowd.” The words “legendary” and “iconic” were already being used in connection with the band’s name—Schoolboy Choir’s sheer, raw talent was as obvious as their love of music.

“You could be a part of it.”

Air was suddenly hard to find. “Are you asking me to go with you?” she said at last.

“It’s on Saturday night. You could leave work a little early if you don’t want to take the whole day off, be there in plenty of time.”

Molly bit the inside of her cheek, her throat thick. The fact was, since she usually never requested unanticipated vacation days, her boss wouldn’t quibble about either a half-day or a full day. “You’ll take this the wrong way,” she said when she could speak, turning to face Fox with her breath painful in her lungs, “but I don’t want to be known as the woman you’re sleeping with.”

His lashes lowered to hood his expression. “Yeah, how else should I take it?”

“You’ll go,” she said, gripping the counter behind her and fighting back tears. “After a month, you’ll go. But I’ll still be here, living my life. Being famous, even by association… I can’t handle it, Fox.” Already, her stomach churned at the idea of being known as “Fox’s Secret Lover,” the headline sure to be splashed across the magazines.