Getting Played (Heart of Fame #7)

by Lexxie Couper

  “Get on it, or get on her?”

  Jax swallowed. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

  “It means I remember very well what you and Natalie were like. How you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. And how easy it was for you to become distracted by her.”

  “Blow me, Gibson. I’m here to get us a new lead singer. Not get laid.”

  Samuel laughed a third time. “Jax, you exist for getting laid. And frankly, getting laid with Natalie Thorton is your idea of heaven.”

  Jax snorted, even as the tight pressure in his groin spread throughout his body. “I’m ending this conversation now, fuck knuckle. I’ve got a movie premier to attend. If you’re lucky, I might ask Nat about a lead singer while we’re there. If I can tear myself away from making out with her, that is.”

  He killed the connection and tossed his phone to the bed before Samuel could say anything else in response.

  Jesus, what was it with both Nick and Samuel thinking he was going to let what he felt for Nat derail him?

  And what do you feel for Nat? Seeing her now after all these years?

  “Horny,” he muttered, heading for the suite’s bathroom. “Just horny. Nothing else.”

  Forty minutes later, a knock came at his suite door.

  For some reason, fresh nerves flooded Jax’s gut. Checking out his reflection one last time, he sucked a deep breath, gazed hard into his eyes, straightened his cuffs and walked through his suite to pull the door open.

  Nat cocked an eyebrow at him from the other side of the threshold, her lips twitching. “You open your own door?”

  He stared at her, absolutely incapable of speech. Fuck, she was stunning.

  She wore a shimmering ankle-length, body-hugging dress with the most plunging neckline Jax had ever seen, and he’d been to more than one MTV Video Award ceremony. A split ran up the right side, stopping just below her hip, revealing a distracting length of exquisite thigh. Her hair fell about her shoulders in a cascade of artfully messy waves and curls. Her eyes had never looked so seductive and sex-kittenish, framed as they were by smoky-grey shadow and jet-black lashes. Her lips…Jesus, how was he not kissing them right at this very second? How was he not pinning her to the bed and making love to her mouth? Slow, lush, languid love with his tongue and teeth and—

  “Mr. Campbell?”

  Jax blinked at Bruce’s alarmed voice. Swiping at his mouth—shit, why did he suddenly need a glass of water?—he forced a smile to his face. “You look good,” he said to Nat. What he wanted to say was she looked gorgeous. Beautiful. Incredible. But he’d only ever used those words when they were fucking. If he used them now, what would she think?

  “As do you.” She flicked a glance over him, the twitch on her red-glossed lips curling into a smile. “One could almost use the word irresistible.”

  A tight pressure fisted in his gut. He held out his arms and looked down at his black-on-black suit, shirt and tie, doing his best to hide his strange, unsettled state. “Not bad for a rock star, eh?”

  “Not bad at all.”

  Her low murmur raised his gaze to her face. Their eyes connected.

  The air between them crackled, charged with a familiar elemental energy he hadn’t realized he’d missed until now.

  “Mr. Campbell?” Bruce’s low murmur made him blink. “We need to go.”

  Jax nodded, jerking his attention to his bodyguard as he smoothed his hands down his suit-clad thighs. “Of course we do.” He pulled a quick breath and returned his stare to Nat. Fuck, she was simply mesmerizing. “Ready?”

  She smiled, exuding calm poise and confidence. “I am.”

  If it wasn’t for the faint blush creeping up her breasts—her incredible, full breasts—he’d be halfway wounded by the fact she wasn’t as affected by the normal sexual sparks between them as he was. But the blush on her cleavage gave it away. As did the way her nipples poked at the silken fabric of her dress.

  His cock gave a preemptive spasm in his five-thousand-dollar pants. He let out a chuckle. She may look like an untouchable siren, but he knew otherwise. Just as he knew the conservative, sensible-heels Nat he’d first encountered in her office at the Con was still really the sexually adventurous, uninhibited wild woman he’d known so long ago.

  Another tight spasm claimed his cock. His sexually adventurous, uninhibited wild woman.

  Offering her his arm, he dropped her a wink. “Let’s get to it then.”

  He couldn’t wait for the damn movie to finish. There was fucking to be done. He couldn’t wait to strip Nat of the controlled, poised facade she’d acquired since they’d parted ways and reduce her to a creature of physical hunger, like he had in her office.

  They’d just settled into the back seat of the limo that would take them to the film premier, Bruce firmly ensconced in the front seat with the driver, when Nat leant forward and raised the privacy glass. “I think now is a perfect time to discuss the details of our arrangement.”

  A warm thrill of anticipation shot through Jax. “Couldn’t agree more.”

  She studied him, an ambiguous shadow dancing in the depths of her eyes. “I know exactly what kind of singer you’re looking for.”

  “You do?”

  She nodded. “One who oozes raw, sexual energy, who can make a person—male or female—orgasm with just his voice, and at the same time who is intelligent, articulate and grounded when required. One who can write lyrics so profound a person’s soul is moved listening to them and can perform live without any enhancement.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “In other words, you want lightning to strike twice.”

  He nodded. “Unless you have a way of convincing Nick to come out of retirement, yep. Hey, you wouldn’t consider blackmailing him for us, would you? Fail his son unless he rejoins the band?”

  She rolled her eyes. “That would be extortion, dickhead. And no. I wouldn’t.”

  He laughed. “I was kidding, Teach. When did you get so smart, by the way?”

  “When I opted to focus on my studies instead of you.”

  “Ouch.”

  It was her turn to chuckle. “Did you forget I was a bitch, Jax?”

  He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “You were never a bitch, Boxhead.”

  She snorted and withdrew her hand from his fingers. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Orgasm however…”

  Jax’s cock throbbed. He studied her, waiting.

  With a slow breath, Nat shifted on the seat beside him and fixed him with a steady gaze. “So here’s the deal. You want magic. I want amazing sex. But I’m in charge. You meet every challenge I give you, and I give you possible replacements for the irreplaceable.”

  “Agreed.”

  “So let’s cut to the chase. First challenge.”

  He pulled in his own breath, every fibre in his body charged.

  “I’m going to go down on you right now—”

  A hot shard of concentrated lust speared Jax’s groin.

  “—and you’re not allowed to come unless I give you permission.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  She studied him. “The first challenge is denial. I am denying you the right to come.”

  A knot of something dark and primitive twisted in Jax’s gut. He stared at her, his cock hard and heavy. “I thought you wanted me to give you—”

  “I do, Campbell,” she cut him off, her voice modulated. “But in case you haven’t figured it out yet, this is also about revenge.”

  “For having sex with other women before you and I started to get serious?”

  “We were already serious. But no, not that. For taking my AC/DC record.”

  “Nat,” he began and then stopped. He didn’t know what to say.

  And it seemed she didn’t want him to say anything anyway. Eyes holding his, lips parted, she leaned forward, unzipped his fly and released his rigid dick.

  It sprang free of his trousers instantly and enthusiastically.

  “I
love that you never wear underwear,” she murmured, lowering her head to his crotch. Her breath caressed his straining flesh, a warm tickle of taunting promise.

  He stared at the back of her head, chest tight. They’d never played power games in their previous sexual relationship. They’d just gone at each other whenever they wanted, surrendering to their perfectly matched sexual appetites. And he’d never allowed any of his sexual partners after her to dominate him. So why the fuck was he so turned on by the idea of Nat being in control of his release now?

  The soft, wet touch of her tongue on the tip of his cock stole any answer his brain may have formed.

  He hissed in a breath, reaching for her hair.

  She slapped his hand away without lifting her head.

  He groaned out a snigger, the sound turning shaky as she flicked the tip of her tongue over his cock’s tiny slit.

  Jolts of squirming heat shot through him, sinking into his balls. He shifted on his seat, thrusting his hips upward in a slow roll.

  Nat waited, her breath on his aching rod an exquisite torment.

  When he settled again, she traced her tongue up the entire length of his erection, from where his cock parted his fly up to its very crown.

  Jax groaned again, balling his fists.

  A part of his rapture-fogged brain recognized the subtle sway and movement of the limo as they drove through Sydney, heading for the IMAX theatre thirty-odd minutes away. Another part wished to fucking hell they were heading for Perth on the other side of the fucking country, almost four thousand kilometres away. He didn’t want this to end. He truly didn’t.

  And it had only just begun.

  Once again, Nat’s breath kissed his hot flesh. He ground his teeth, waiting for the bliss of her tongue. Instead, she nipped the tip of his cock with her teeth.

  Hot pleasure lashed at him. “Fuck!” he burst out, slamming his hips upward.

  She planted her palms on his thighs and shoved him back to the seat, glancing up at him through the dark strands of her fringe.

  He reached for her hair, needing to feel its glossy weight tangle through his fingers but she slapped his hand away again.

  “No.”

  He let out a raspy chuckle. “If you say s—”

  She plunged her lips down his length, cutting his cheeky response dead. She sucked back up to his crown, rolled the flat of her tongue over the bulbous dome of his cock and then took him deep into her mouth again. As far as the parted fly of his trousers would allow.

  He groaned, arching in his seat. Flicking a glance at the control panel of the privacy glass, he realized she hadn’t locked it. His heart thumped faster. Bruce could lower the divider at any moment.

  Hot blood flooded his already engorged dick at the thought, making it twitch in Nat’s mouth.

  Nat hummed her approval, drew harder on his length and slowly inched back up to the rim of his crown.

  He let out a ragged breath, rolled his head and closed his eyes. His balls throbbed. “Oh yeah.”

  Nat continued to work his cock with her lips, tongue and teeth. Every time a shudder of liquid tension claimed him, she’d pause, lips sealed around his flesh.

  He ground his teeth, driving his nails to his palms. Fuck, he was close to blowing. Close to flooding her mouth and throat with his release. “Nat…” he rasped, grabbing at the edge of the seat as she laved the sensitive knot of flesh just below his cockhead. “How…how serious are you…are you about me not…not coming?”

  She withdrew her mouth from his dick and fixed him with a level gaze, undeniable pleasure burning in her grey eyes. “Are you going to fail the first challenge already, Campbell?”

  The huskiness of her voice belied her poise.

  He forced out a strained laugh. “Not at all.”

  Her lips curled. “So you won’t mind if I do this?”

  She repositioned herself on the seat beside him and parted the split in her dress, revealing the fact she wore no underwear.

  “Or this?” she murmured, stroking a slow finger along the seam of her hair-free pussy.

  Liquid electricity shot up Jax’s spine. Into his balls. He stared at her finger playing with her clit, his throat thick, his mouth dry. “Unfair,” he ground out.

  A throaty chuckle fell from her lips. “I never said I was going to play fair.”

  He reached for her hand between her thighs, aching to feel the slick moisture of her juices on his fingers.

  For a delicious second, she allowed him. He parted her folds with his middle finger, a rush of giddy pleasure claiming him at her slick warmth. A strangled moan vibrated low in his chest. He closed his eyes, slowly inching his finger deeper into her tightness.

  She shifted on the seat, circling his wrist to control his penetrations even as she wrapped her other hand around his still engorged shaft.

  “Unfair,” he groaned again. Hell, he was going to come any second now.

  She laughed, sliding his finger in and out her sex at the same time as she pumped his cock with increasing pressure.

  A shudder rocked him. His balls constricted higher to his body. He opened his eyes and stared at the limo’s ceiling, desperate to stave off the mounting heat in his groin. It was damn near impossible, what with the mind-blowing pressure of her pussy around his finger and the equally intense pressure of her hand working his cock. Pumping up and down it. Kneading it.

  Hot licks of tension lashed over his balls. He bit back a shaky curse, all too aware he was on the cusp of an orgasm.

  “Uh-uh,” she reproached, voice a breathless pant. “I told you…”

  He wriggled his finger inside her, determined to undo her control. To make her come with him.

  Because he was going to come. With the scent of Nat’s pleasure in every breath he pulled, the tight suction of her pussy on his finger, the warm moisture of her juices on his flesh…with the feel of her palm sliding up and down his cock…oh yeah, he was going to come. But not until he made her come first.

  Ignoring her controlling grip on his wrist, he withdrew his finger from inside her and placed it on the nub of her clit. Rolled it over the tiny button.

  Her hissed intake of breath told him he’d hit the right spot. As did her hoarse, “Fuck, that’s it, that’s it.”

  Pulse pounding, concentrated need rising in his groin, he opened his eyes and stared into hers. “Say it again.”

  She studied him, her breath ragged, her lips parted, her breasts rising and falling. “That’s it,” she panted, grinding her clit to his finger. “That’s it.”

  “Come for me, Boxhead,” he ordered as he closed his hand around hers on his cock and pumped faster. “Come on my hand. Now.”

  “We’re almost there, Mr. Campbell,” Bruce’s voice filled the back of the limo through the com-link speaker. “Just waiting for our turn at the beginning of the red carpet.”

  Tight fury threaded through Jax’s red-hot pleasure. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to make her come. He wanted to hear her cry out as her orgasm detonated in her soul.

  He wanted to join her in release. He wanted to fucking erupt and paint the limo’s ceiling with his—

  “Two cars away, Mr. Campbell,” Bruce’s voice sounded from the speaker.

  “Fuck,” Nat ground out, teeth clenched, ecstasy etched on her face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

  Jax rolled his finger over her clit faster, gazing into her eyes. Drowning in the wanton need he saw there, the undeniable pleasure. “Come for me, gorgeous,” he moaned, every molecule in his body thrumming. Christ, any second now…he was going to come any second… “I want you to come…”

  “Inside me,” Nat demanded, hips rolling. “Fucking shove your fucking fingers inside—”

  “One car.”

  He sank two fingers into her sodden pussy and scissored them inside her. “Come for me, gorgeous,” he pleaded, aching for his own release. “Come for—”

  She threw back her head, slammed her hands to the limo’s ceiling, rammed her hips forw
ard and, teeth biting into her bottom lip, drenched his hand with her release.

  “We are here,” Bruce’s voice filled the limo just as the car came to a stop.

  Without a word, Nat withdrew Jax’s hand from between her thighs and lifted it to his lips.

  “Taste it,” she whispered, holding his stare. “You did that to me.”

  He swiped out his tongue and ran it up the length of his middle finger. Her honeyed musk flooded his senses, distinctly hers. His whole body reacted, a tsunami of raw need and base urgency.

  A slow smile curled Nat’s lip as she lowered her head to his. She squeezed his straining cock. “And I did that to you,” she murmured in his ear.

  He ground out a whimpered moan, and then another one as she released his length and settled back into the plush seat beside him.

  She shot him a sideways glance. “Ready?”

  The back door opened before he could respond and Bruce’s massive, tuxedo-clad body filled the frame. The screams and cheers of the public waiting to get a glimpse of their favourite idol or celebrity flowed into the cabin from beyond. And Jax sat there, panting, with his dick out.

  Oh boy.

  His bodyguard flicked Jax’s groin a quick look. “You may want to fix yourself up, sir.”

  Beside Jax, Nat laughed. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun.”

  Chapter Six

  How Nat sat through the movie—a movie she’d been impatient to see only a few months ago—was beyond her. With every breath she took, a breath she swore blind she could smell her release on the air, Jax knew it. She could tell. Every time a member of the media had stopped him on the red carpet for an interview, he’d introduced Nat and asked the reporter if they also saw the smudge of dirt on Nat’s face. Every time he did that, he’d swipe his finger—the one so recently insider her—with a gentle stroke over Nat’s top lip, devilish mirth in his eyes.

  Every time he did that, her belly would flutter, her pussy would contract and her throat and nipples would tighten. It didn’t help every step she took on the walk toward the theatre also reminded her she’d just had an orgasm.

  Knowing Jax hid his erection from the public by holding her hand directly in front of his groin with his as they walked into the theatre made her unsettled state worthwhile.