Getting Played (Heart of Fame #7) (28 page)

BOOK: Getting Played (Heart of Fame #7)
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Damn it, what was he doing here? What the hell was he doing back here?

For me?

She frowned, shaking her head at the notion. No. Nick wouldn’t be here for her.

Could be. Isn’t that what you’ve dreamed about for the last fifteen years?

Her frown turned into a scowl. No, it bloody well wasn’t. She had moved on. She wasn’t still the naïve young woman with impossible fantasies and fairy-tale wishes of happy-ever-afters. And if he was here for her—her heart smashed harder into her throat at
that
thought—he could bloody well bugger off. The last thing she wanted was—

He groaned. A barely audible noise deep in his chest.

Lauren started, a tiny yelp slipping from her. “Nick?”

She nudged his shoulder again, but the groan was about it. “Well, at least I know I didn’t kill you,” she muttered, giving him a glare. He lay there on the cold ground, long, lean body decked out in black jeans, a black shirt and a black leather jacket she knew would cost more than she earned in a month.

Lauren rubbed at her mouth. What was he doing here? And was he alone? Surely he travelled with an entourage? A bodyguard? She’d seen enough paparazzi images of him to know there was usually a hulking great big guy shadowing him wherever he was. Where was
that
guy?

She sat back on her haunches, studying the empty playground around her. There were no massive hulking great big guys running at her, which meant
she
would have to deal with the unconscious Nick.

A tight twisting sensation stirred in the pit of her belly and she bit back a groan. She was not going to get all horny and excited at the idea of dealing with Nick. Besides, there wasn’t a hope in hell she could lift him by herself and carry him to her car, even if she wanted to. At five-foot-six and one-hundred-and-thirty pounds wringing-wet, she wasn’t exactly the lugging-unconscious-rock-stars-around type even
if
said unconscious rock star had more than once lay full-length atop her in bed, on the living room floor, the kitchen bench, the—

Lauren slapped her hands to her face, killing the utterly insane train of thought. God, was she an idiot? What the hell was she doing thinking about Nick making love to her?

“You a masochist, Lauren Robbins?” she snarled under her breath, grabbing at her satchel/instrument of destruction before digging her phone from its lethal contents.

She turned it on, keying in Jennifer’s number. Hopefully, her best friend was sticking with Friday-afternoon tradition and had closed her vet clinic early. Jennifer was used to dealing with heavy, unresponsive animals, being the only vet in the district. Dealing with an unconscious Nick Blackthorne would be a breeze.

“I’ve got the margaritas chilling in the fridge already,” Jennifer Watson said the moment the connection was made, not bothering with any kind of greeting. “Tell Josh you’ll be home later than normal tonight.”

“I’ve got a problem, Jen,” Lauren answered, trying hard not to let her gaze roam over Nick. Trying but failing, damn it.

“What’s up? And if you tell me you’re marking school books I’m coming over there to thump you.”

“I’m not marking school books, Jen.” Lauren rolled her eyes. “Now shut up and listen carefully.”

Jennifer made a dramatic
ooh
sound before laughing. “Okay, Miss Robbins, I’m listening. What’s your boggle?”

Lauren bit at her bottom lip. “Umm, you know how I told you I once dated Nick Blackthorne?”

Jennifer let out a sharp snort. “You mentioned it in passing years ago and never let me bring up the subject again. Is this a confession? Did you lie to me? Or are you going to tease me some more with tales of your past? Did you also date Hugh Jackman? Guy Pearce? Geoffrey Rush?”

Lauren laughed, rolling her eyes. “No, I didn’t. But I
did
date Nick Blackthorne.”

“And I’m going to say the same thing I said when you told me before—lucky bitch. Now tell me what’s up?”

Lauren took a deep breath. “Well, he’s here now.”

Silence answered her. For a good twenty seconds or so. Then Jennifer said, “Nick Blackthorne is here?” Her voice, normally calm and laced with mirth, like she knew a really funny joke and was on the verge of sharing it, raised an octave. “In Murriundah?”

Lauren gazed at Nick’s face, his stormy-grey eyes shuttered by thick black lashes resting on cheekbones high and strong. A decidedly purplish bruise was beginning to make itself known on the side of his face. “In Murriundah,” she answered on a sigh.

Jennifer made a strangled little sound. “And?”

“And I just knocked him unconscious in the school playground.”

“What the—”

Lauren jerked the phone from her ear.

“What the hell do you mean you just knocked him unconscious?” Jennifer continued, her voice far from calm and loud enough Lauren could hear each word even with the phone nowhere near her ear. “Why? With what? And
why
? Jesus Christ, Robbins, who are you really and what—”

Lauren returned her phone to her ear. “Jenny!” she snapped, “I don’t have time right now. I need your help. I can’t move Nick by myself and I can’t leave him on the ground. He’ll catch a cold—”

“A cold?” Jennifer interrupted. “You can’t leave him on the ground because he’ll catch a cold? How ’bout you can’t leave him on the ground because he’s Nick Blackthorne?”

Getting Played

 

 

 

Lexxie Couper

 

 

 

 

It all starts with sex under a desk…

 

Heart of Fame, Book 7

After yet another month without a lead singer, the band Synergy is on the verge of calling it quits. Which drives Jaxon Campbell, keyboardist and perpetual player, to do something dangerous—hit up a woman with contacts—and curves—in all the right places. Trouble is, the last time he saw her, he kind of broke her heart. And stole her cherished, autographed AC/DC album.

Natalie Thorton, Dean of the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, knows everyone who’s anyone in Australia’s music industry. She’s driven and utterly professional and doesn’t have room in her schedule for relationships.

When Jaxon strides into her office, all of Natalie’s suppressed sexual urges—the ones born in Jax’s arms—surge to the surface. He wants something from her? Well, she wants something from him. Orgasms. Lots of them.

How can Jax say no? He’s never forgotten her, and it’s not like they’re going to fall in love. But just who’s playing who? And whose heart is going to fall first?

 

Warning: Contains a sexual challenge involving sex in public places, sex in private places, sex in moving cars, sex against windows and sex in the company of an oblivious federal politician. So basically, we’re talking about getting laid. A lot.
 

eBooks are
not
transferable.

They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

 

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

 

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

Cincinnati OH 45249

 

Getting Played

Copyright © 2014 by Lexxie Couper

ISBN: 978-1-61921-730-0

Edited by Heidi Moore

Cover by Angela Waters

 

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

 

First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: July 2014

www.samhainpublishing.com

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

About the Author

Look for these titles by Lexxie Couper

Also Available from Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

Back Cover Copy

Copyright Page

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