eyes.
“Did he fuck you right?”
Molly gasped. She was stunned mentally—and overwhelmed physically—by the weight of him between her legs, the smell of him so close, the way he brought her physical pleasure just by barely touching her. It took her a moment. And then:
“You want to know how other men have fucked me?” she asked.
Declan growled a little, his brows coming together. Secretly, Molly rated that as a triumph.
“No,” he said. “I want to know if you got what you needed. But I already know you didn’t.”
His eyes roved all over her body, her taut muscles, her aroused nipples, the way she could barely breathe. Yeah, it was obvious. Fuck.
And then he got up.
“And you never will if you don’t trust a man to give it to you,” he said.
And he left.
Molly sat there for far too long. The bus started up with a rumble and she swayed as they turned out of the Volare compound, her eyes staring at nothing while she thought about what Declan had said. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find anything wrong with it. He was right.
And now the question that reverberated deep inside was this: could she ever trust anyone? Could she trust herself after everything that had happened?
Could she trust Declan?
chapter 8
Molly. Naked. On her knees.
Declan closed his eyes and stroked himself, his cock so hard it hurt, the hot water sluicing over his hard body in thin rivulets. She was driving him crazy, with those big eyes and those bee stung lips, and that plain, raw desire to submit. Fuck. He would have her. He would have those lips wrap around his cock, those eyes looking up at him, hungry. Yielding.
Until then he had to take care of himself, or walk around with a permanent hard on. He swore he’d match every orgasm with one buried deep inside her. He’d make her come hard for every one of these that she missed.
And he knew how obedient she’d be given the chance. Once he had her naked. The idea made him groan, his hand moving faster as the feeling at the base of his cock intensified. She’d beg for it. She’d bend over and take him to the hilt when he told her to. And if he did his job right, it would help her let go of whatever had happened to her.
Fuck .
He kept coming back to those big eyes. What they’d look like when she finally came for him. What it would feel like, looking into those eyes, buried deep inside her, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, feeling her come hard around his cock…
“Fuck!” he roared, his cum covering the shower wall, one hand shooting out to steady him. She was a great fuck even when she wasn’t there. “Fucking Molly,” he growled.
He couldn’t have her fast enough.
Declan took his time toweling off and coming down, wanting a clear head, knowing she’d be right there when he rejoined the guys. That clear head lasted about two seconds after he saw her.
Christ.
A week on the road and already that girl was weaseling her way into everything. Declan didn’t mind, but he did find it remarkable. She felt so damn comfortable already, and not just to him. All the guys had gotten used to her.
Yeah, still dangerous.
He’d seen her talking to all the other dudes in the band, even some of the roadies. Doing her detective work. It always seemed to go the same way, too, with her target kind of avoiding her, all nervous because she already knew they were all going to try to lie to her, and then she’d corner them somewhere and get them laughing, smiling.
She was good.
Freaking. Dangerous.
And still Molly hadn’t tried to interview him yet. It maybe kinda rankled, a little bit. What the hell did she have to talk about with those other guys? Wearing those damn cutoffs all the time?
He’d actually asked her about that. She had more than one pair. She’d packed multiple goddamn pairs of lethal cutoffs. “It’s summer ,” she’d said.
Declan was going out of his mind wanting her. He hadn’t jacked off this much in the shower since he
“Did he fuck you right?”
Molly gasped. She was stunned mentally—and overwhelmed physically—by the weight of him between her legs, the smell of him so close, the way he brought her physical pleasure just by barely touching her. It took her a moment. And then:
“You want to know how other men have fucked me?” she asked.
Declan growled a little, his brows coming together. Secretly, Molly rated that as a triumph.
“No,” he said. “I want to know if you got what you needed. But I already know you didn’t.”
His eyes roved all over her body, her taut muscles, her aroused nipples, the way she could barely breathe. Yeah, it was obvious. Fuck.
And then he got up.
“And you never will if you don’t trust a man to give it to you,” he said.
And he left.
Molly sat there for far too long. The bus started up with a rumble and she swayed as they turned out of the Volare compound, her eyes staring at nothing while she thought about what Declan had said. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find anything wrong with it. He was right.
And now the question that reverberated deep inside was this: could she ever trust anyone? Could she trust herself after everything that had happened?
Could she trust Declan?
chapter 8
Molly. Naked. On her knees.
Declan closed his eyes and stroked himself, his cock so hard it hurt, the hot water sluicing over his hard body in thin rivulets. She was driving him crazy, with those big eyes and those bee stung lips, and that plain, raw desire to submit. Fuck. He would have her. He would have those lips wrap around his cock, those eyes looking up at him, hungry. Yielding.
Until then he had to take care of himself, or walk around with a permanent hard on. He swore he’d match every orgasm with one buried deep inside her. He’d make her come hard for every one of these that she missed.
And he knew how obedient she’d be given the chance. Once he had her naked. The idea made him groan, his hand moving faster as the feeling at the base of his cock intensified. She’d beg for it. She’d bend over and take him to the hilt when he told her to. And if he did his job right, it would help her let go of whatever had happened to her.
Fuck .
He kept coming back to those big eyes. What they’d look like when she finally came for him. What it would feel like, looking into those eyes, buried deep inside her, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, feeling her come hard around his cock…
“Fuck!” he roared, his cum covering the shower wall, one hand shooting out to steady him. She was a great fuck even when she wasn’t there. “Fucking Molly,” he growled.
He couldn’t have her fast enough.
Declan took his time toweling off and coming down, wanting a clear head, knowing she’d be right there when he rejoined the guys. That clear head lasted about two seconds after he saw her.
Christ.
A week on the road and already that girl was weaseling her way into everything. Declan didn’t mind, but he did find it remarkable. She felt so damn comfortable already, and not just to him. All the guys had gotten used to her.
Yeah, still dangerous.
He’d seen her talking to all the other dudes in the band, even some of the roadies. Doing her detective work. It always seemed to go the same way, too, with her target kind of avoiding her, all nervous because she already knew they were all going to try to lie to her, and then she’d corner them somewhere and get them laughing, smiling.
She was good.
Freaking. Dangerous.
And still Molly hadn’t tried to interview him yet. It maybe kinda rankled, a little bit. What the hell did she have to talk about with those other guys? Wearing those damn cutoffs all the time?
He’d actually asked her about that. She had more than one pair. She’d packed multiple goddamn pairs of lethal cutoffs. “It’s summer ,” she’d said.
Declan was going out of his mind wanting her. He hadn’t jacked off this much in the shower since he
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