Getting Played (Heart of Fame #7) (9 page)

A troubling tension fell over Jax. His throat tightened. He stared at the view beyond his window, seeing not Sydney Harbour and all its beauty, but seeing Nat, the woman who’d ended their relationship a lifetime ago.

He swallowed. Heat prickled its way up the back of his neck and over his scalp.

Nat. His Nat. His Boxhead.

Of its own accord, his right hand moved to the top of his right butt cheek, his fingertips touching the tattoo there. She hadn’t seen it when he’d been naked in her office, mainly because he hadn’t turned his back on her while he
was
naked. Truth be known, he’d forgotten the tat was there. It had, after all, been almost twenty-one years since he had it done.

What was he going to say when she saw it?

With a choppy breath, he removed his fingers from the tat, dragged them through his hair and turned from the window. He had to get ready. He had to show her that like the Minister for the Arts and Culture, he too could look irresistible in a tux.

Picking up the suite’s phone beside the bed, he dialed his bodyguard’s room—two floors down. “Bruce, I need you to go get Nat…Ms. Thorton from her home for me.”

“Does she know I’m coming, sir?”

Jax laughed at Bruce’s deadpanned question. “Of course she does. By the time you get her, I’ll be ready for the premier.”

He gave Bruce her address and then hung up, palms hot, stomach…churning. Damn it, why did he suddenly feel nervous? What the fuck?

Dragging his hands—seriously, were they shaking?—through his hair, he hurried to the closet and withdrew his suit, shirt and tie. Tie. Holy fuck, a tie.

The sound of his mobile phone ringing stilled him.

It’s Nat. She’s changed her mind.

The thought shot through him like a dart of ice. Unsettled at the rollercoaster of emotions he was currently experiencing, he snatched up his phone and glared at it. He let out a wobbly laugh at the face and name staring up at him from the screen.

Answering the call, he pressed the phone to his ear. “Strings.”

“So you
are
still alive and in one piece then?” Samuel asked on the other end.

Jax laughed. “She hasn’t killed me yet.”

“Has she given you a name?”

Jax pulled a face. “Bloody hell, Strings. I’ve only been here for a day.”

“Then what the fuck have you been doing?”

A rush of heat flowed over Jax’s body. Sex. Sex. Some more sex. Hmmm, did he need to tell Samuel that? “I had lunch with Nick today.”

“Hey, that’s good. What’s he doing in Sydney?”

“Believe it or not, he was here to see Nat as well. Did you know Josh is now a student at the Sydney Con?”

“I did. His soccer career was killed due to an injury. A serious one.”

“Apparently, he’s a bit of a wild one,” Jax said, picturing the young man he’d met at the Con who looked like a younger version of Nick. Now that he thought about it, Josh did walk with a limp. And a frown. “Remember how wild Nick was back in the day?”

Samuel’s answering laugh was wry. “How wild we
all
were. Some of us are still there. Speaking of which, a name? Do I need to round up the rest of the guys and fly in to Sydney? We’re running out of time, you know. What’s she making you do?”

Heavy tension wrapped Jax’s groin at Samuel’s question. “Why would she be making me do anything?”

Another laugh sounded through the connection. “Because you stole her AC/DC record, you prick. And made her look like an idiot. And the pair of you were shacked up together talking about getting married when the shit hit the fan. And did I mention you stole her—”

“All right, all right,” Jax grumbled. “You’ve made your point. I’ll get on it ASAP.”

“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.