Getting Played (Heart of Fame #7) (10 page)

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 forward 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.

However, when the lights went out in the cinema and the movie started, Jax didn’t waste any time pressing her hand to the bulge in his trousers.

So instead of concentrating on a film she really,
really
wanted to watch, she spent the entire one hundred and twelve minutes of its duration feeling his cock range from hard to semi-hard to hard over and over again and breathing in the scent of her own arousal. It was only when he slowly lowered his fly and tried to slip her fingers into the opening that she remembered she wasn’t the wild nympho of her youth and pulled her hand from his.

He chortled beside her. “Chicken,” he muttered in her ear before snaring her earlobe between his teeth and giving a little nip.

A shudder rippled through her. Her pussy fluttered. Nat let out a frustrated growl, crossed her legs and folded her arms beneath her breasts.

“Y’know when you do that,” Jax’s warm breath tickled the side of her neck, “I just want to bury my face in your incredible cleavage and—”

The sudden blare of heavy rock music smothered whatever he was going to say. As did the raucous applause from those in the cinema with them. Nat startled, focusing back on the screen where the closing credits scrolled.

“Ours will be better.”

She flicked him a quick look.

He grinned at her. “Seriously.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “What’s my timeframe? I probably should have asked that before now.”

“A fortnight.”

“Two weeks? You want me to find you a replacement for Nick Blackthorne in two weeks?”

He shrugged. “We’ve got the music thanks to Levi, we’ve got the lyrics care of Strings. All we’re waiting for is the right voice. A voice you’re going to deliver.”

Nat’s belly clenched. “You have a lot of faith in me, Jax. What if I can’t—”

He silenced her with a very cheeky kiss. “You can. I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t think you could.”

Her belly churned again, but this time her visceral reaction had nothing to do with the ridiculous timeframe he’d presented her and everything to do with his reason for being in her life once more. He’d contacted her again not for
her
, but for her musical contacts.

She had to remember that. She had to remember he hadn’t sought her out for her company or even for amazing, incredible sex, but for a singer. It was her who’d brought sex into the whole situation.

Unfortunately, she was beginning to fear sex with Jax was more dangerous for her damn heart than she wanted to admit. She liked it too much. And she was beginning to remember how much she liked
him
when they weren’t bonking.

Pulling a deep breath, she smoothed her palms over her thighs. “Thank you for the confidence,” she said, forcing her poised, detached dean’s voice into the words.

The theatre lights flickered to life, signaling the premier was finished. Around her, the invited celebrities and media representatives rose from their seats, applauding.

Turning to Jax, Nat rose to her feet as well. “I think I’ll catch a taxi home.”

He gaped up at her, confusion mingling with disappointment on his boyishly handsome face. Damn, she’d be thinking about that expression all night now. Reading shit into it she had no right contemplating.

“A taxi? What the fuck for?”

Thankfully, the man sitting on Nat’s other side, a verbose butterball who also happened to be the country’s highest-paid shock jock, saved her from answering. Leaning around Nat, he stuck out his hand to Jax. “Hello, Mr. Campbell,” he said, smiling broadly at Jax. “Dirk Flanders. Do you remember me? I interviewed you and the band here in Sydney after Nick’s farewell concert six years ago.”

Jax took the DJ’s hand and gave it a pump, his own smile toothy. “Don’t remember you at all.”

Nat hid her twitching lips with her hand. Flanders had an ego as bloated as his waistline. He also thought he was the definitive voice on Australian radio and television regarding local musicians and talent. She’d heard him ranting about the Con’s graduating students more than once on his weeknight radio show, and how so few of them played
real
music, and by
real
music he meant rock music.

Flanders’s beaming smile evaporated. He dropped his hand and flicked Nat a quick look. A look that turned into a double take as recognition dawned on his face. “Natalie Thorton? Dean of the Con?”

She nodded.

“Dean of the Con,” Jax said, smoothing his hand over the small of Nat’s back. “The place that produces more talented musicians and writers of music than that hack of a talent show you host, mate.”