She clutched at his hair, the strands dark silk against her palms. “Fox, we—”
Shifting his grip to under her thighs, he pulled her forward on the bench, her hands falling to the leather seat cushion to brace herself as he altered her center of gravity. “Hmm,” he murmured, the green of his gaze holding her own for a second that stole all the air in her lungs. “What’s the rush, Molly Webster?” He bit down over the tendon in her neck.
Hands back in his hair, her fingers spasmed into a tighter hold, her breath a tremor.
“Bad Fox.” Licking out, he soothed the sensual hurt with his tongue. “There, I’m behaving now.”
She shuddered, surrendered under the gritty seduction of his voice, sought his mouth with hers. It was clear she wasn’t the one setting the pace tonight, but she no longer cared. Not with Fox’s strong body between her legs and his hands on her own, his kisses drugging her to a languorous pleasure that made her want to explore him as slowly as he was exploring her.
Groaning, Fox shifted one hand into her hair, unraveling the twist, but didn’t take over this time. No, he let her kiss him, let her play with the lip ring that fascinated her. Molly felt oddly shy as she went to—
Her home phone rang.
She ignored it, her lower body melting at the way Fox continued to stroke his thumb over her skin as they kissed. No rush, no hurry, nothing but pleasure, her bones heavy with it.
The phone kept ringing.
And ringing.
Finally, the answering machine kicked in. Molly was a mass of helpless flesh by that point, couldn’t have cared less who it was. But the worried female voice, familiar and beloved, intruded more effectively than a scream. Sudden panic slicing through the sensual haze, she pushed at the wide shoulders in front of her. “I have to get this.”
Fox released her without argument after taking one look at her face, and she ran to grab the handset on the counter that separated her living area from the kitchenette. “Charlie, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, you’re home.” Her friend’s voice, a low whisper, broke on the last word. “I just…” A deep inhale. “There’s someone else in the office, and there shouldn’t be. I came back from the bathroom and heard them moving around.”
“Leave,” Molly said, her fingers rigid on the handset.
“No.” Charlotte took another shaky breath. “It’s probably only the building security guard doing an unscheduled round, but could you stay on the phone with me while I go check it out?”
Molly bit back her instinctive negative reaction to her friend’s plan, knowing how important it was to Charlotte that she not crumble under the weight of what might be an imagined fear. “I’m right here.”
Having circled to the other side of the counter, Fox, his expression grim, caught her eye and mouthed, Problem?
Maybe, she mouthed back, hoping she was wrong. That was when a scream sounded from the other end of the line, followed by a thud, as if the phone had hit the carpet. “Charlotte! Charlie!”
Scrabbling, rustling sounds, then Charlotte’s voice, a little breathless and holding a taut tension. Not fear though; this was excruciating embarrassment. “I’m fine.” A pause, a deeper voice murmuring in the background before Charlotte returned. “I just met my new boss,” her best friend groaned into the phone. “Or more specifically, I threw an industrial-strength stapler at his head.”
Knees trembling in relief, Molly braced her elbows on the counter as Fox reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. Catching the intent lines of his expression, she touched his wrist, let him see everything was all right. He didn’t know Charlotte, but he’d heard that scream, too.
Maybe she’d imagined the protective concern in his expression… No, she didn’t think so. Every instinct she had said this man would never stand by while a woman was hurt. Neither would he ever hurt one. Not physically. Now he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip before dropping his hand and moving to pick up a delivery menu she had on the counter from a neighborhood restaurant.
“Oh God, Molly, what if he fires me?”
Molly wrenched her attention back to her best friend. “He’s not going to fire you,” she reassured Charlotte as Fox turned the menu toward her. “You were in the office being a diligent employee, remember?” Not sure how she felt about the fact she was about to have dinner with the rock star who’d been meant to be a one-night stand, Molly nonetheless pointed at her favorite dish and Fox pulled out his phone to place the order.
“Right, that’s right. I—” Charlotte broke off as the deep male voice returned in the background. When her friend came back on the line, she sounded half-strangled. “He just said we’re going out to dinner so I can bring him up to speed on ‘certain issues.’”
Molly decided she liked the new boss. “Go.” Make Anya look bad, she added silently. It infuriated her that Anya—all gloss and impeccable style—dumped her work on Charlotte, then took the credit, with Charlotte too shy and reserved to push herself forward. “Order the most expensive thing on the menu.”
“I’ll probably throw it up,” Charlotte said morosely. “I better go—he said five minutes.”
“Good luck.” Hanging up, she stared at the gorgeous man who’d made her bones turn to honey with his kiss and felt the butterflies in her stomach take flight again.
Terror, anticipation, near-painful desire… Molly wasn’t sure what she was feeling, what she was doing, but when Fox turned to look at her with a half-smile on those bitable lips, she knew she wasn’t going to renege on their agreement.