Savage Rhythm (23 page)

Adra burst out laughing. “Yeah, I am familiar with that rule.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Molly said, blushing. “I just…”

“Yeah, you kinda did,” Lola said from the other side of the couch. Molly blanched. At some point all those ladies had stopped talking and started listening. They’d all heard her. Everything.

And they were all…smiling?

“Yes,” Lena whispered, and did a little fist pump.

“Ok, wait, what?” Molly said. “What’s going on?”

“We couldn’t help but overhear,” Lola said. “It’s just that we like Declan, too. We want good things for him. That’s all.”

Adra said, “Look, if your story becomes part of Declan’s story, that’s what you write about. Don’t worry about it. Just do what comes naturally, and your talent will win out.”

“If
my
story…” Molly wouldn’t let herself quite finish that thought.

And Lola’s smile lit up the room. And that was it. No more angst, no nervousness, even though Molly knew enough to know that both Lola and Lena had had bad experiences with the press. They all just kind of trusted her.

Molly couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. She was so used to dealing with all the people back home who hated her, who thought she was a cheating liar, who were so ready to believe Robbie, that the idea that she’d be just…welcomed—it was hard to process. She kind of sat there in a daze while more women arrived—someone named Stella, who shined like a little ball of happiness, and a few others—and Molly felt enveloped in a warm blanket of acceptance.

And then she looked up and saw Declan leaning against the far wall, looking at her. Wordlessly, he put out his hand and Molly stood up to take it.

chapter
23

In a room full of women wearing expensive designer threads, Molly was a freaking star in a little black dress from Target. They all loved her, Declan could tell, and it was important to him that they like her, the women of Volare who’d been so kind to him when he’d needed it. He realized now he’d almost been nervous, apparently for no reason. Molly was rocking it. She had them all in the palm of her hand.

But when she thought no one was watching, her face changed. Something on her mind. Something heavy. Happy and scared, all at once. Except Molly didn’t need him or anyone else to help her sort it out; she wasn’t sitting there like a little girl lost. There was nothing panicked or helpless about her, just a small furrow in her brow, like this was just another problem she was going to solve.

That was the moment when Declan realized he didn’t have to worry. Molly wasn’t like Bethany. Molly wasn’t going to fall the fuck apart if Declan screwed up; she wasn’t in love with him. Because that was how he worked, and he knew that now. He wasn’t afraid of caring about Molly. What kept him up nights was the idea that a woman he cared about would need more from him than he could give and he’d fail her. That was why he kept things impersonal in his arrangements.

But Molly…he wasn’t sure Molly would ever need him like that. He wasn’t sure she’d ever need anyone like that. She was the strongest woman he’d ever met.

And that meant he was free to feel, too.

Molly looked at him. He reached out his hand and beckoned. She was already getting up and walking toward him, her sandy blonde hair teasing at her face, her body moving in all the right ways. Declan decided he’d have to reconsider his punishment strategy in the future; no way was he ever doing this to himself again.

“Hey,” she said. “I was thinking about you.”

Declan let his hand fall on her stomach, moving around to the small of her back in that way he knew drove her crazy. He didn’t even talk, just pulled her close to him, wanting to feel the warmth of her soft body.

She felt the hardness of his and made an appreciative little noise.

But Declan watched her face. There was more there than just lust.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

Molly looked down, that little line appearing between her brows again. She opened her mouth, closed it again. Declan decided to help her out and tilted her face up to his.

“Tell me,” he said.

“I don’t know if I can write the book the way it should be written,” she finally said.

“You’re the only person I want to write it. You’re the only person I trust. It’s you or no one,” he said.

“But—”

“You,” he said slowly. “Or no one.”

Molly put her hands on his chest and fingered his shirt, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Ok,” she said.

“That isn’t the only thing on your mind,” he said. He loved that he could read her, and he hoped to God it never went away.

“No, it isn’t,” she whispered. “But the other thing isn’t ready yet.”

Declan frowned and tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. He didn’t like to think there were things upsetting her. He wanted her to know everything was ok, that he understood that things were different, even if he didn’t know how. But she wasn’t ready.

He would wait.

“It will be,” he said, and kissed her.

They had maybe a quiet moment like that before everything stopped. And then they were reminded of where they were.

“May I have your attention please?”

It was Roman, walking in like he owned the room, which, to be fair, he did. Following him were a bunch of guys Declan recognized and some he didn’t. There was now a good mix of Doms and subs walking around of both genders, people mingling, flirting. Some playful swats with crops here and there. Declan hadn’t even noticed the party getting bigger.

“My wife has decreed that there will be games for your amusement,” Roman said, “Though she will, of course, be for my amusement only.”

Lola tried to look annoyed and failed spectacularly.

“Sign-ups over there!” Chance shouted, and the crowd flocked, all except Adra, who was clearly relieved to see Ford all by himself, and Chance, who hovered over Lena.

“What’s going on?” Molly asked.

“It’s about to get kinda wild,” Declan answered. He smiled when she moved a little bit closer to him.

“How so?”

“Depends, I guess.”

Declan mulled. He didn’t like the idea of Molly in a public situation, not even a little bit. He’d joked about it before, maybe even considered it, but now the idea of any of these guys playing with her brought out the Neanderthal in him.

And one of these guys was approaching Molly with a clipboard right fucking now.

“Hi, I’m Jones,” he said. “Are you two up for capture the—”

“No,” Declan snapped. “Get lost.”

Clipboard Man shut his mouth, took one look at Declan’s face, nodded his head, and walked away.

“Declan, what was that?” Molly asked. She couldn’t hide the amusement in her voice. He didn’t care.

“I’m taking you on a damn tour of the club. C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he said, guiding her down the hall and away from the main room.

“Declan, you don’t
know
this club.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She was laughing now, trotting after him to keep pace.

“Don’t you need sleep before your big concert tomorrow?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“Declan,” she said, eyes shining, pulling at his hand. “What kind of games?”

He stopped to get a look at her and saw she had a devilish grin on her face.

“You gonna keep walking or you want me to throw you over my shoulder?” he asked.

Molly blushed. “Um…”

He smiled. She’d definitely prefer getting thrown over his shoulder. But they were stopped in front of the private elevator, and Declan saw it went up to the roof. Volare was the entire top floor of this swank hotel and apparently had the roof, as well. He pushed the button, and when the door opened immediately, he pulled Molly into the elevator and jammed the roof button forcefully.

Molly crashed into his chest and he decided to keep her there, his hand plastered to her back. Her breasts pushed into his abs and her hands searched for his rapidly hardening cock.

“I thought you said you were going to spank me in front of all your friends if I misbehaved,” she said.

The doors opened. Declan pulled her out onto the roof, under the stars, and spun her around to face him.

“That was before,” he said. His voice came thick and low.

“Before what?”

She had been teasing him before, but now she was serious. Nervous. Uncertain. Almost like she was afraid she’d done something wrong—Declan wanted to laugh. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

“Before I realized I can’t stand the idea of anyone else even looking at you,” he rasped. “Of anyone else getting to see you when you feel the way I’m going to make you feel.”

Molly licked her plump bottom lip, and he had to fight the urge to throw her on the ground. Then she smiled only hesitantly, with that uncharacteristic uncertainty, and he wanted to kiss her into delirium all over again.

“So you’d object to my participation downstairs?” she said. “Because back when you had me sign that first contract, you said—”

Declan held himself rigid. “Do you want that?”

“No,” she said, startled.

He couldn’t help himself. He pulled her close again, not even hearing the sounds of the city below, not paying attention to the lights on the horizon. “We never signed another contract, Molly, so I’m just going to tell you my terms now. No games. No public rooms, no playing with anyone else. Because you are mine now. All mine. Do those terms work?”

For a second she hid her face against his chest. Then he felt her hands grip his shirt and tug.

“Of course they do,” she said.

Declan hummed with satisfaction and pushed her hair out of her face. He was going to have her now.

“But I have a question,” she said.

“What?” he bit the word off, trying to be patient. His hand found its way under the neckline of her dress and he’d just discovered that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Um,” she said, her breath coming a little faster, arousal and shyness both vying for supremacy. “What was that capture game?”

Declan squeezed her nipple. Jesus.

“Exactly what it sounds like. Anyone can sign up, and if you get caught by a Dom on your list, you’re his. Or hers. But you won’t be playing.”

She sighed, her hips moving against his, and let that teasing smile come back out to play. “It kinda sounds fun, except for the part where it’s not you,” she said.

Declan gave her breast one last squeeze, bent down, and whispered: “Run.”

Molly’s eyes flew open and she let out a small gasp before turning tail and sprinting across the roof deck, towards a rooftop garden, her laughter trailing behind her.

She made it about ten feet.

This time Declan really did throw her over his shoulder, grinning to himself at all the happy noises she made, making a list of things he wanted to do to her before the night was over. First up was making her scream at the top of her lungs over the city of New York. He walked to the high wrought iron fence surrounding the roof, pushing Molly’s dress up on the way and letting his free hand wander just because. He put her down just in front of the fence, the lights of the city twinkling through, turned her around to face the city, and said, “Grab on.”

Wordlessly she took hold of the fence, her ass straining against that dress. Declan pulled the bottom up and pushed the top down around her waist, leaving her ridiculously exposed in the night air.

“Spread ‘em,” he said.

He saw her shoulders shudder as she stepped out to the side, giving him what he wanted.

He didn’t waste any more time. He sheathed himself, grabbed hold of her perfect, round ass, and plunged into her. She dropped her head and moaned, then arched back into him, meeting him, timing him while he pumped into her. She was always so ready for him, so wet, so damn perfect. Declan let himself fall forward, one hand above hers on the wrought iron, the other searching for her breast.

“Fucking come, Molly,” he growled.

She did, like she always did, a freaking miracle convulsing around him with utter abandon. And when she couldn’t hold herself up anymore he caught her, turned her around, set her gently on the ground, and then fucked her ever higher, until she had screamed herself hoarse and he had nothing, nothing left.

Nothing except what he had planned for her the next night at Madison Square Garden.

chapter
24

Molly was lost.

Madison Square Garden was
massive
, which wasn’t really a surprise, but it was kind of a problem. Even the backstage area was like a small city, if a small city consisted of a warren of hallways and rooms and offices and who knew what the hell was going on.

It was just as well. Figuring out where she was, and where she had to be, gave her something to do rather than think about Declan.

Who was she kidding? She was thinking too hard, anyway. She was thinking about the previous night, another incredible night with Declan, another night that felt like it had changed her life. And yet, in the middle of it, he’d still gone for his phone with that tense expression on his face, the same way he did every night.

Molly knew it was probably Bethany that he talked to every day. She’d figured out that much. And she knew she shouldn’t be jealous, or upset, or whatever she was. Didn’t mean squat. Molly still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was always something—someone—else intruding on whatever it was that she had with Declan. Which was what, exactly?

Exactly. She had no right to complain.

Except, of course, that it all brought back memories of Robbie the jackass hanging out with his new girlfriend, Janelle, in sight of Molly’s trailer within just a few days of dumping Molly for being pregnant. As big of an asshole as Robbie had been—over many, many things, and in many, many ways—nothing he had done had ever made Molly feel so completely worthless as that. As though the whole time they’d been together, she’d been replaceable. Disposable.

And, irrational as it was, that particular wound began to ache whenever Declan left her to go check on his ex, because it reminded her that Declan was not, and probably never would be, all hers.