Getting Played (Heart of Fame #7) (7 page)

Opening her eyes, Nat tried her best to focus on the man opposite her. The Minister for the Arts and Culture. In her office. Asking her on a date.

Beneath her desk, Jax trailed his lips up the length of her right inner thigh.

“Oh God,” she moaned, squeezing her pussy muscles on his penetrations.

“And I’m sure you’ve been aware how much I admire your dedication to your work.” Confident hope shone in Jeremy’s face. If he thought her reaction to his suggestion unusual or melodramatic, he didn’t show it. “And your professionalism dealing with not only the press but dignitaries and politicians alike. Myself included.” He chortled at his self-deprecating jest…just as Jax touched his tongue to Nat’s clit.

The sound that escaped Nat was borderline porn-worthy.

She bit back another groan, her grip on the edge of her desk almost painful.

Jax licked her clit again, his finger or thumb or whatever seeking out her G-spot once more.

“W-wouldn’t it…” she rasped, incapable of
not
rolling her hips forward as fresh waves of delicious pleasure flowed through her. “W-wouldn’t it be…” Jax sucked on her clit. “…a conflict of interest?”

Jeremy frowned, shifted on his seat, adjusted his glasses and then his cuffs. “I’m sure some in the media would find it newsworthy. The Minister for the Arts and Culture on a date—may I use that word?—on a date with the Dean of the Con, especially after my department so recently approved the improvement grant, but I’ve cleared it with my superiors—”

“The prime minister?” Nat said, desperate to ignore Jax’s tongue lapping at her pussy. Christ, she was going to come soon if she didn’t stop him. And she was a noisy comer. Always had been, especially when it was Jax making her come.

Jeremy nodded and smiled with coy pride. “The prime minister.”

“So you checked with the leader of Australia if you could ask me out?” she asked, wriggling her hips. Holy fuck, was Jax fucking her with his finger and tongue now? Holy fuck, were those his teeth on her clit?

Jeremy preened. “I did.”

Nat sucked a swift breath in through her nose. Not at Jeremy’s confession, but at the masterful way Jax slid his free hand between her butt and her chair as she squirmed on her seat in a futile effort to dislodge him.

Oh God.

He stroked the puckered hole of her anus, a gentle but deliberate caress even as he sucked on her clit and teased her G-spot.

Swirls of blinding colour began to dance at the edges of her vision. The base of her spine tingled. So did the soles of her feet.

Yep, she was going to come soon. Right here, while the Minister for the Arts and Culture asked her out on a date.

“And he said there was no problem as he saw it.” Jeremy beamed, leaning back in his chair, his stare locked on her face. “In fact, he wondered why I hadn’t asked you out before now.”

“Oh God.” Nat ground her pussy down, meeting Jax’s talented thrusts. “I don’t—”

“Just the Prime Minister’s Ball,” Jeremy beseeched, holding out a hand as if to halt her refusal. “And perhaps drinks after…at my place?”

Jax nipped her clit, pressed on her anus, stroked his tongue over her clit again and drew line after line over her G-spot.

The colours swirling in Nat’s vision flared brighter. Liquid fire sparked up her spine. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples pinched tight.

“Please, Natalie?” The minister leant forward, adjusting his glasses. “I promise you’ll have a wonderful time. And I hold you in such high—”

Jax sucked Nat’s clit into his mouth and penetrated her anus with his finger.

“God, yes!” she cried out, her orgasm—a paroxysm of concentrated pleasure—claiming her. Her hands slipped from the edge of her desk. Her toes curled in her shoes. Her hips bucked upward of their own accord, slamming her constricting, weeping pussy into Jax’s mouth. “Yes!”

“Excellent!” Jeremy jolted to his feet, elated triumph beaming from his face.

Nat gaped at him, her climax—
and
Jax’s tongue—still busy at work rendering her body a slave to pleasure. “W-wha…I…”

Jeremy’s smile grew wide. He tugged at his cuffs again, his gaze on her face. “I shall get
my
people to call
your
people.”

And with that, he let out a laugh, gave her a weird little wave no federal politician had any right giving—like they were kindergarteners and she’d just agreed to sit with him at lunch—and turned toward her door.

Nat gnawed her bottom lip, the mounting tension in her sex telling her Jax was well on his way to giving her her first multiple orgasm since he’d left all those years ago. A fucking multiple orgasm. Right now. Oh God, how did he do…how did he know how…

Fuck me, fuck me, here we go again, here we—

“Oh, and Natalie?”

She jerked her head up to stare at Jeremy, her face, her body, her
soul
aching with the need to surrender herself to her second climax and scream Jax’s name. “Minister?”

“I should warn you, I look irresistible in a tux.”

He dropped her a wink, gave her another smile and then left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Just as Jax penetrated her anus with his finger again and flicked her clit with his tongue once more, thereby detonating her second climax of the day.

If Jeremy heard her cry out, he didn’t return.

Which was a good thing, given that she was about to kill a goddamn naked, annoying pain-in-the-arse rock star.

Finally wrenching control of her body and brain back from the bone-melting second orgasm pulsing through her, she rammed her hands to the edge of her desk and shoved. Hard.

Her chair slid backwards. Jax’s hands and mouth slipped from her pussy and other orifice.

“What the fuck do you think you’re
doing
?” she growled, just as Jax’s chuckle emanated from the shadows beneath her desk.

He poked his head out, grin wide, face boyishly handsome and smugly triumphant. “If you have to ask, I obviously did it wrong.”

Nat threw up her hands and let out a strangled argh. It was that, or watch him curl his naked hotness into a comfortable sitting position on the floor. And if she watched him do that she’d lose any hope of maintaining the moral high ground. “Do you have any idea who that was?”

“It was the Federal Minister for the Arts and Culture. Who just asked you out, by the way.”

The playful delight in Jax’s voice sent wisps of frustration through her. She willed herself against the sight of him sitting naked at her feet and, teeth ground, glared at him. The fading throb of her orgasms—plural—mocked her indignation. As did the glistening moisture on Jax’s lips and chin she knew came from her. “Exactly,” she snapped, pressing her thighs together.

Jax laughed. “What’s the problem, Boxhead? I remember the time
you
gave me head under the table while I was being interviewed by
Rolling Stone
Magazine
. Hey, did you know our new band manager is the daughter of the guy who did that interview?”

Nat gaped at him. “That was twenty-one years ago,” she pointed out, chest tight.

“So?” He shifted on his butt enough for Nat to see his still-very-engorged erection jutting up between his thighs.

“So…” She faltered. “So that was twenty-one years ago,” she repeated.

He smirked. “Awesome argument you’ve got there, Boxhead. Need I remind you it’s not the first time I’ve eaten you out in the company of others. There was the time I visited you in class…when you were Whathisface’s assistant…and I hid in the podium while you supervised an exam…”

Nat’s cheeks flooded with heat. Her pussy fluttered with enthusiastic recollection.

“Besides,” he went on. “
You
were the one who laid down the sexual challenge—Nick’s replacement for sex. I just decided waiting until tomorrow sucked.”

“I can’t be having multiple fucking orgasms while talking to the Minister for the Arts and Culture, Jax.” She pressed her hands to her face, in part to hide her blush, in part to stop herself gazing at his nakedness as he straightened to his feet. “This was such a mistake. What was I thinking?”

“You were thinking you wanted to experience amazing sex again. With me. Although you
did
say yes to going on a date with the Minister of Colouring In. Do you want to have amazing sex with him as well? It’s been a while since I took part in a boy-girl-boy ménage, but hey, I’m—”

“Jax!” she ground out.

His only response was to laugh.

She shook her head and flicked him a glare through her fingers. Oh God, he was leaning his naked butt on the edge of her desk, grin wicked, arms crossed over his tattooed chest, his impressive cock right there…in front of her…hard and thick and stiff and waiting for her…

“This was a mistake,” she said again, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t do it.”

“Chicken.” Jax’s low murmur snapped her eyes open and her head up.

“Screw you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “The Nat I knew wouldn’t be wimping out.”

“I’m not wimping out,” she declared, belly knotting, breasts heavy. That’s exactly what she’d just been about to do, but there wasn’t a hope in hell she was telling Jax that. The bastard had stolen her AC/DC record, after all.

And
that’s
the reason for not bailing? A record? Yeah, sure. You’re in it for the sex. Admit it.

Dark eyes regarded her. “Prove it.”

She drew a slow breath, fixing him with her most serious stare. “Sure. But not now. Now I have work to—”

He stepped toward her and straddled her legs—damn it, why hadn’t she stood when he had?—pressed his hands to the back of her chair, either side of her head and lowered his face until his lips hovered a breath from hers. “Prove. It.”

Nat’s heart lurched. She stared up into his dark eyes. “Jax…” she whispered, her head roaring. Her heart wasn’t just fast anymore. It was a goddamn metronome pounding out a
prestissimo
tempo.

He didn’t move. His warm breath tickled her lips. His hard thighs pressed to the outside of hers. His gaze held her captive.

Nat’s sex constricted. God, she remembered this. This hunger for each other, this bottomless need to consume each other, possess each other. “Jax,” she whispered again, throat so thick his name was barely more than a husky moan.

“Prove—” he moved his hand to hers, wrapped his fingers around her wrist and then placed her palm against the side of his engorged dick, “—it.”

Her fingers closed around his length of their own accord. It filled her hand, hot and rigid and thick and perfect.

“Squeeze it.”

She did. A part of her told her the situation was insane. Dory could walk in at any moment. At. Any. Moment. Dory was unpredictable. An incredible personal assistant, true, but not one for using the intercom. And the Minister for the Arts and Culture could return to confirm their date for the Prime Minister’s Ball. Their
date
, for fuck’s sake.

Another part of her—the
real
her perhaps, the part she’d kept bound and leashed since Jax had left and she’d focused her life on her career—didn’t give a flying fuck who could walk back in.

The threat of discovery only made the moment more exhilarating and arousing. And boy, she was aroused.

“Squeeze it again,” Jax ordered on a groan.

She didn’t just squeeze his erection, she moved her constricting hand up and down its length in three slow pumps.

He moaned, nostrils flaring, stare fixed on hers.

She loosened her grip on his flesh and trailed her hand, fingertips first, down to his scrotum.

His balls rose up at her touch. Jax had always been a master at manscaping, long before it became popular, and Nat loved that all she could feel as she cupped his balls was his velvet-soft skin.

Another low moan tore from him, deep in his chest. His eyes fluttered closed for a second before they focused on her, undeniable pleasure clouding their dark depths.

Kneading his scrotum, she drew a slow breath, taking in the scent of him—distinct, wonderful and long kept from her.

“Ahh, yes…” A shudder rocked his naked body. His eyes closed again. He swayed toward her, his lips brushing hers.

She returned her hand to his cock, tracing her fingers up its venous length to the bulbous dome of its head.

Jax groaned her name against her lips. She flicked her tongue out, tasting him for a quick second before catching his bottom lip with her teeth.

He groaned again and then hissed in a breath as she gripped his erection completely and pumped hard and fast.

In her chest, her heart jumped from
prestissimo
to
presto
. Between her thighs, her pussy grew thick and hot, already aching for more of his touch.

She released his lip from her teeth and, breath shallow and pulse wild, flattened her palm to his chest and shoved him upright.

He let out a startled gasp, a gasp that turned into a raw whimper as she leant forward and took his cock in her mouth.

“Fuck.” He bucked his hips forward, sinking deeper into her mouth.

She hummed her approval and sucked down his length, all the way to his smooth balls and then back up to the very tip.