Savage Rhythm

By: Chloe Cox

Fuck me. Direct. Yeah. He resisted the urge to hook his fingers into the front of her tight little skirt, pull her close, and kiss her hard.

“What do you think?” he said.

“Ok, well, here it is direct,” Molly said, standing a little straighter, refusing to let her eyes waver. “You don’t get to have me, Declan Donovan. That’s not what’s going to happen. What’s going to happen is that I’m going to get to the bottom of what happened between you and Soren Andersson in Philadelphia, and you’re going to let me, because you’re going to trust me. Because you’re going to respect me. And then I’m going to write the best goddamn book you’ve ever read. And at the end of it—”

“You’re going to let me fuck you senseless,” he said.

Molly’s eyes went wide. He’d shocked the words right out of her mouth. Christ, if that was all it took, he couldn’t imagine…

“You’re going to thank me,” she said. She was a little breathless, still looking at him with those big, open eyes. “I don’t know where you get off—”

“Quiet,” he said.

She shut up.

She almost seemed surprised by her own reaction. But Declan felt his cock twitch, like the damn thing knew a sub was nearby. He was sure of it. Well, then he’d give her what she needed. Clear, concise commands.

“Give me your phone,” he said.

Molly only hesitated a moment. She was staring at him like she couldn’t quite figure out what was going on, but she very much wanted to. Then she narrowed her eyes and wordlessly dug into her oversized purse by feel, never taking those challenging, inquisitive eyes off of him, and came up with her phone.

Declan took it from her without explanation and dialed his own personal cell phone number, since he’d left his phone in his jacket. He waited until it went to voicemail, then saved the number under “Declan.”

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He gave her the phone back, and winked. “Making sure you know when to pick up.”

Declan was all ready to parry another outraged barb from Molly Ward—was looking forward to it, in fact—when real life got in the way. If Savage Heart could be considered real life, anyway.


It was Adra’s voice, getting closer. But Declan just did not want to stop looking at Molly. That combination of confusion and curiosity was almost as attractive as the defiance and submission combo she had going on earlier.


“What’s up, Adra?” he said without turning around. Let Molly know what he was looking at. He could tell she liked it. In fact, the woman was looking right back.

“Eric’s called you so many times he started calling me,” Adra said, catching up. He felt Volare’s resident agent look at him, then look at Molly, and back to him. “There’s obviously something you need to deal with. I think he’s freaking out.”

Damn. Eric was an old friend, an amazing guitarist who’d given up on the rock dream and had cut a decent living as a studio musician instead, and he had been perfectly happy with that up until Declan told him Savage Heart needed a new guitarist freaking yesterday. Eric had saddled up and saved the tour, which had been a godsend. He knew all of Savage Heart’s songs, and had known the band forever, but now the pressure was getting to him. Savage Heart had their first show since Philadelphia that night—a surprise appearance at the brand new public part of the Volare club in Venice Beach, just to test some stuff out before they hit the road. No one knew how the fans were going to react, but they were probably going to give Eric some shit just because he wasn’t Soren.

So Eric was panicking.

“Yeah, I’m on it,” Declan said. He gave Molly one long, last, lingering look. “See you soon, Molly Ward.”

Just his luck the one woman who’d set off his Dom sense in months without being weird about his fame was the one woman determined to keep it professional. And the one person who seemed to think she could get him to talk about Philadelphia. Declan wasn’t worried about getting her into bed—fighting attraction like that was like fighting a force of nature. She’d lose, and he’d teach her the things she craved. It was inevitable.