Bare for You: Outback Skies, Book 3 (10 page)

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. That strange calm flowed through him. “And if I don’t?”

A dry snort escaped the PM. “I know you, Craig. I’ve had my eye on you since you entered politics. I know your ambition. Your end goal. Trust me, it’s going to happen.” He paused, swirling the remaining liquor in his glass as he gave Jeremy a cool smile. “As long as you stay in the closest. The voters like you. Australia likes you. You’ve got charisma the media devours. You’ve an intelligence that doesn’t, for reasons my advisors can’t fathom, rub the working class the wrong way. The female voters cream their undies over you and you’re known for your open honesty. Stay in the closet, firmly in the closet, and you’ll be running this country within six years.”

“Then,” Jeremy said, not just calm, but centred, “respectfully, I must decline your offer.”

The PM’s mouth fell open. “You what?”

A smile pulled at Jeremy’s lips. An elated warmth bloomed in his soul. “You’re right, of course. I have dreamed of being the prime minister since I was twelve. I love this country, sir. I love everything it stands for, everything it can stand for. And I believe in my whole heart it can be an even better country. But as you said, I’ve always been about honesty. And it saddens me that I’ve not been honest when it comes to the most important aspect of my life. If I was to accept your offer, if I was to become the deputy PM, I may very well become the prime minister at the next federal election. But I would be living a lie. And I’m done with that.”

Disbelief shone in the PM’s eyes. “So you’re coming out? Going to make it public?”

Jeremy laughed. The relaxed mirth didn’t surprise him. He’d only once in his life felt better, more alive than he did now.

“Are you ready?”
Ryan asked in his head.

Hell, yeah. He was ready.

“I’m coming out.”

The PM studied him. Jeremy didn’t miss the way his knuckles whitened as he gripped his now-empty glass. “You’re committing career suicide, Craig. You know that? Before you can blink, you’ll be a backbencher again. Left with an insignificant portfolio and no hope of making any difference in this country at all.”

Jeremy laughed again, raised his glass and—holding the angry man’s stare—swirled its contents in a slow wave of his hand. “Now that’s where you’re wrong, sir. I may not become the prime minister, but I will make a difference. Watch me.”

He tapped his glass’s edge against the rim of the PM’s, dropped the man a wink and downed the scotch in one swallow.

“Thanks for the Chivas, sir.” He handed his empty glass back with a grin. “Good luck with your hunt for the right man for the job.”

The PM stood, stunned into silence it would seem, as Jeremy opened the door to his private office and left.

The limo was still there when he exited the building, but Jeremy walked past it, heading down the tree-lined driveway for the gates.

His life was about to become more honest than it had ever been. He was starting it out the way he wanted to continue it. Without any pretentious indulgences.

Pulling his mobile from his hip pocket, he dialled his personal assistant’s number. “Linda,” he said when she answered. “How soon can you call a press conference?”

Silence met his question. For a single beat. “Thirty minutes. Are you making an announcement, Minister?”

Jeremy chuckled. “I am. But not the one you think I am.”

Another beat of silence followed. “Are you coming out?”

Jeremy stopped walking. Blinked. “How did you know?”

His assistant laughed. “I know everything, sir. Including the current whereabouts of a certain heli-musterer from Wallaby Ridge.”

A wave of something hot and wonderful and excited crashed over him. He stared at the gates, his pulse pounding. “Which is where?”

“Your front door.”

Jeremy scrunched up his face and pumped his fist.

Yes!

“Did you just punch the air, Minister?”

He laughed. “I did. Do me a favour?”

“Anything, sir.”

He smiled, walking again for the gates. “I need two things,” he said, nodding at the federal police officer standing guard beside the control panel. “I need you to clear my calendar for the rest of the day. Actually, make that for the rest of the week. After the press conference, I’m taking some personal time.”

He nodded again at the officer as the man activated the gate, sliding it open just enough for Jeremy to walk through it. “Thanks.”

“And the second thing?” Linda asked. The smile in his assistant’s voice radiated through the connection.

“I need a taxi sent to the PM’s private residence, ASAP.”

Linda chuckled. “Done. Give me ten.”

She disconnected with a click, leaving Jeremy to stand on the quiet footpath on the other side of the security gate.

His body thrummed. His stomach knotted. His heart pounded. A nervous thrill rippled through him. Made it damn near impossible to stay still.

He looked at his phone. Contemplated calling Ryan. He had his mobile number. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to delete it when he’d flown out of Wallaby Ridge. He could ring Ryan, tell him what he’d done. Tell him he wanted to see him again. To be seen with him, in public. To date him, if that was the appropriate term. To convince him what they had shared was more than a one-off.

The very fact Ryan was here, in Sydney, at Jeremy’s house, told Jeremy the heli-musterer may very well share the same opinion.

Heart wild, he stared at his phone. At Ryan’s number.

And forced himself to return his phone to his pocket.

Better to do it in person. He really didn’t know why Ryan was here. Maybe he’d left his hat in Ryan’s chopper?

Or maybe he’s here to take possession of your lips again? Maybe he’s here because he can’t shake you?

Drawing a deep, ragged breath, he checked his watch.

Five minutes. Five minutes since Linda had told him Ryan was here.

Five minutes.

He shoved his hand into his pocket, gripped his phone and released it again.

He needed to wait.

He needed to relax.

Huh. As if that’s possible now? Knowing he’s here.

Rolling his neck, he bounced on his toes and proceeded to count the cars passing the PM’s Sydney home.

One.

Two.

That was it. Two.

He checked his watch again. Twelve minutes.

Twelve. Where the hell was the taxi?

God, he didn’t think he’d be able to—

A bright green taxi turned into the empty street.

“Is that for you, Minister Craig?”

Jeremy jumped at the deep rumbling voice behind him. He shot the federal police officer on the other side of the gate a quick shrug. “Hope so.”

The officer chuckled. “Me too. Watching you twitch and fidget about out there is making me nervous.” He patted his hip. “You don’t want a man armed with a Glock nervous, do you?”

Before Jeremy could respond, the taxi pulled to a halt at the kerb directly in front of him.

He stepped towards the back passenger door.

And stopped when it opened.

Stared at the man unfurling from within.

Took in the worn Akubra cowboy hat, the faded chambray shirt, the equally faded denim jeans. Took in the sun-kissed, seamed face, the salt-and-pepper stubble only that morning Jeremy had felt rasping against his inner thigh.

Took in the way Ryan devoured him with open desire and want.

“You followed me here?” he asked, meeting Ryan’s stare.

Ryan nodded. A single dip of his head.

“Because?”

“Because one night wasn’t enough.”

Rapturous relief flooded Jeremy at the answer.

“Are you ready then? For more than one—”

Ryan destroyed the minute distance between them, fisted his hand in the back of Jeremy’s hair and crushed his lips to Jeremy’s.

And then tore them away just as quickly.

“I take it,” Jeremy murmured, damn near breathless and unhinged with need, “that you are?”

Ryan trailed his thumb over Jeremy’s bottom lip, his nostrils flaring. “Your assistant told me.”

“That I’m coming out?” The words were a husky tickle in Jeremy’s throat.

A hint of a dimple flashed in Ryan’s right cheek. “I wouldn’t have kissed you out in public if she hadn’t.”

Jeremy chuckled, incapable of gazing anywhere else but into Ryan’s eyes. “Feel like attending a press conference with me in the next twenty minutes?”

Ryan’s nostrils flared. “If you’re good with a dusty boy from the Outback being there?”

Jeremy brushed his lips over Ryan’s. “I’m more than good with that.”

Ryan touched his bottom lip again, a serious tension claiming his face, his body. “Reckon we stand a chance? Are you going to regret doing this? Are you going to hate me later for coming out? You didn’t have to do it. Not for me.”

With another brush of his lips over Ryan’s, Jeremy shook his head. “I did it for me.” He let his smile turn playful. “You’re just the reward for finally finding the courage to do so.”

Ryan arched an eyebrow. “Reward, eh? You mean like a sex toy?”

Jeremy pressed his hips closer to Ryan’s, joy threading through the carnal desire he felt for the man. He grinned. “I mean like a reason for liv—”

Before he could finish, his phone burst into life in his pocket.

Ryan laughed, stepping back just enough for Jeremy to extract the annoying, inconvenient disruption.

“Whoever it is,” Jeremy muttered, dropping his glance to the screen, “can damn well w—”

The call was from the prime minister.

Ryan snorted. “Think you should probably take that one. Given the fact we’re making out on his footpath.”

Flicking Ryan a smirk, Jeremy connected the call and pressed his phone to his ear. “Sir?”

“You know what, Craig?” the leader of the country said without preamble or greeting. “I’d rather have a gay deputy prime minister who’s honest and has integrity than a deputy who’s a shoddy, crooked, corrupt bastard like the last one I had. If you still want the appointment, it’s yours.”

Prickling heat flooded through Jeremy. A roaring pressure filled his head.

Ryan cocked an enquiring eyebrow, a grin playing on his lips.

“Considering,” the PM grumbled, “how fine I am with you coming close to breaking the laws of public decency outside my home, I’m hoping you’ll say yes.”

Heart wild, pulse rapid, Jeremy stared at Ryan. “Let me get back to you, sir,” he said into the phone.

He disconnected the call without waiting for the PM’s response. Returned his phone to his hip pocket. All without breaking eye-contact with Ryan.

“So?” Ryan asked, his voice husky with a desire Jeremy knew all too well. “Are you ready, Minister?”

“How many times—” Jeremy smiled, smoothing his hands over Ryan’s hips to tug him back to his body, to bring him back exactly where he was meant to be, “—have I told you to call me Jeremy?”

About the Author

Lexxie Couper started writing when she was six and hasn’t stopped since. She’s not a deviant, but she does have a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get romances that can make you laugh, cry, shake with fear or tremble with desire. Sometimes all at once. When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family, a husband who thinks she’s insane, an indoor cat who likes to stalk shadows, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.

Contact Lexxie at
[email protected]
, follow her at
www.twitter.com/lexxie_couper
or visit her at
www.lexxiecouper.com
where she occasionally makes a fool of herself on her blog.

Look for these titles by Lexxie Couper

Now Available:

The Sun Sword

Tropical Sin

Triple Dare

Dare Me

Sunset Heat

Suspicious Ways

Party Games

Suck and Blow

Twister

Heart of Fame

Love’s Rhythm

Muscle for Hire

Guarded Desires

Steady Beat

Lead Me On

Blame it on the Bass

Getting Played

Savage Australia

Savage Retribution

Savage Transformation

Principatus

Dark Destiny

Dark Embrace

Outback Skies

Breathless for You

Burn for You

Coming Soon:

Outback Skies

Better with You

Don’t miss the other titles in Lexxie Couper’s Outback Skies series!

The fire in the heart is the hardest to fight.

Outback Skies
, Book 2

Harsh, rugged and unforgiving, the Australian Outback is the perfect place for Evan Alexander to hide. Up in the air, fighting fires from the cockpit of his helicopter, no one sees the scars that run clear down to his soul.

When a massive fire breaks out in a nearby national park, Wallaby Ridge becomes a media staging ground, and Evan’s daring piloting skills the center of attention. Evan finds it easy to dodge every reporter—except one. A woman from his past.

Jenna McGrath can’t believe the quiet, withdrawn man declared a hero is the same arrogant, cocky pilot she fell in love with six years ago. A cruel betrayal caused Jenna to remove herself from his world, but she’s never been able to erase him from her memories.

Their long-suppressed attraction reignites, but the walls Evan has built around himself are high. And while Jenna easily overlooks the scars on his body, she begins to wonder if molten desire is enough to melt the emotional scars binding his heart.

Warning:
It’s not the flames devouring the landscape that will stir your soul…it’s the wounded, broken man fighting them from the air.