How to Reprimand Your Rock Star (DommeNation #2) (16 page)

Then all I knew was turquoise water and sky and a gentle rocking motion.

“Athena,” I heard him whisper.

Waves. Wind.

“Goddess.”

I found my body again and stretched. Satin against my skin. I opened my eyes and saw Keaton lying next to me. The blue-green sheets were pulled up over us and he held me in his arms. “There you are.”

I looked around the room. The sky outside was lavender. “Did I sleep?”

He chuckled. “Like a baby.”

“So I woke up every hour crying?”

He laughed.

I frowned and sat up, looking at Keaton. He was naked, as I was, but his body was no longer tied up. “How did you get out?” I asked. The kinky tools were neatly placed on the nightstand.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked with a devilish flick of a pierced eyebrow.

I sunk back down into the pillows. “Same way you
know
things, right?”

He tapped my forehead. “Smart girl.” He kissed my cheek. “Beautiful, brave girl.”

I snuggled into his embrace and sighed. I may not understand any of this, but I didn’t care. Keaton’s hand slipped between my legs.

“May I pleasure my Mistress?” he asked.

I groaned with both pleasure and mild frustration. “I hope you mean Mistress as in a Domme thing and not implying that you’re married.”

I felt a gentle push and some tingly pressure. “There’s only one thing around my ring finger right now, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Good,” I whispered.

“Look at you with the lingo,” he said, nuzzling my neck as his fingers pleasured me. “I take it your lessons with your mentor have been going well?”

I sat up straight and grabbed his chin in my hand. “Your mouth would be put to better use elsewhere,” I said, guiding his face to my naked breast.

“Yes, my Mistress, my goddess,” he uttered as he snaked his tongue to my nipple. Again, the pleasure took my mind away to a faraway place. His blue eyes held mine and as I came, I fought to stay conscious, pleasure taking hold deeply inside me the way it did before. Last night was so overwhelming, and the way he made me feel felt fresh and thrilling.

Keaton pulled his hand back and took me into his arms. I felt his erection pressed tight against my stomach and, although I didn’t think it was possible, started to become aroused again.

“Is there anything you want more than the championship?” he asked, suddenly snapping me out of my luxurious sensual fantasy and back into the world of dorms and hoops and uniforms that decidedly did not feel like satin on my skin.

“Nope,” I said into the pillow, frustrated. He nudged his hand under my face and our eyes met.

“I can offer you something else,” he said, bringing his face closer to mine and touching my chin with his fingertip.

“Go on,” I said, relaxing in the intimacy of his touch. Confident, in control, and pleasured beyond belief. Whatever he was offering, I’d probably take it.

“The band is touring Europe this summer. I want you to come with me.”

I stiffened. “What?”

He stroked my bare shoulder and gave it a kiss. I felt the sizzle of his lips on my body, but my mind was numb from his question. Keaton continued unfettered by my shock. “This was the thing I wanted you to be open-minded about, remember? So think about it honestly and don’t worry about logistics.”

I frowned, completely stunned.

“Please come with me, Goddess. There are shows in Athens. I’d like to take you to your ancestral home. Think about how much
fun
we could have,” he said, using his rascal grin once again to disarm me. It worked for small things, but this? This was decidedly something. Something big. He wanted me to go on tour with him for goodness’ sake!

I shook my head. “I can’t. I need to work this summer, and practice, and . . .”

“I’ll give you whatever money you’d earn at a job. You can use the gyms at the hotels we stay at. Hell, I’ll hire you a personal trainer. You belong on Olympus, not behind a restaurant counter, and you know that.”

My head fell back and I gazed at the ceiling with tears in my eyes. I didn’t know if they were sad tears, happy tears, or just overwhelmed, but I knew there was no easy answer. I talked despite not knowing what the hell I’d say. “Listen, what we have is . . . fun. Weird. Different. And I like it. I just—”

“Just what?”

I inhaled and exhaled, weighing my words. “How do I explain this? To my parents? To friends? I’m supposed to tell them that the Heartbreaker of the Century is whisking me away on a world tour and they’re supposed to be fine with that?”

He leaned in close and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “So you know about my little nickname,” he said quietly. “Thought you’d say something by now.”

“You didn’t answer my question. How do I tell my very traditional parents?”

Keaton snickered. “Tell them you’ve had a religious experience. You’re going on a mission.”

I pushed him playfully.

“I’m serious!” he retorted. “Okay, not missionary. I mean, that’s far too vanilla for you. Tell them you’re going to see Zeus.”

Gaping at his ignorance, I snapped back, “You must be only half Greek if you think we still worship Zeus.”

He rolled his eyes. “I told you, I’m half Norse! We were a bunch of lunks who just plundered and slaughtered.”

I rolled on top of him and gave him a long, lusty kiss. It was the only way I knew how to respond. It was the one thing I knew. He had just given me the validation I wanted—that he wanted to be with me exclusively. That we weren’t just a sexy fling. He wanted me to go on tour with him and everyone he knew. He wanted to spend every day with me all summer. Be seen out with me. This was real.

He pulled away with sweet reluctance. “My tour’s going to be very busy the next two months,” he said, a serious tone taking over his playful nature. “I won’t see you again until school’s out. So it’s only logical that I’d want you to come on tour with me afterward.”

I kissed him again, wanting to push out thoughts of not seeing him and just have my wicked way with his hard body.

“Goddess, stop delaying,” he joked. “Please, say yes,” he said, and I wasn’t sure if he meant he wanted to fuck again or he wanted to take me on tour.

“Maybe,” I answered, “if you’re lucky.”

WHAT GREETED ME BACK AT
the team’s hotel was decidedly a downer compared to the rest of the day. Coach Dunks was standing outside the lobby doors, hands shoved in his pockets, glaring right at me.

“How’s your mom?” he asked with a stony frown.

Shit. What was this all about?

“Fine,” I said, trying to play it cool and avoid him. I tried to walk past him into the lobby but he put his hand on my shoulder. Was I busted? Callie would never rat me out.

He slid his free hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “One of the captains showed me this,” he said, illuminating the screen. It was a Facebook feed that read,
So proud of my girl! Wish I could have been there
.

Double shit. It was my mom’s status. Damn parents and their insistence on using technology. My dad still planted his feet firmly in the world of the Luddites, but my mother convinced Anthony to teach her how to use Facebook. Little brothers, the eternal pain in the ass, even from across the country.

“Want to try again?” Coach said, eyes dark and angry.

I blinked and tried to channel my inner Domme. I stood straight, breathed confidence into my voice, and concocted a story. “I’m so sorry I said it was my mom, but you’re right. It wasn’t. My friend is in town and—”

He put his hand up. “I don’t care. You’re benched for the next game.”

My jaw unhinged. “Benched? During the tournament?!” Anger flared inside me and hot breath shot from my nostrils in bursts.

Coach pointed his finger in my face. “Don’t get angry at me, young lady. You’re the one who left the team for your
friend
. You missed our postgame meeting. You selected someone else over your obligation. Now we’ll have to do without you. Don’t for one second think I’m happy about this, or that this is my fault.
You
did this to
us
.”

I felt a tingle and a surge of bravery. Was it the Domme in me? I slowed my breathing and tried to remain cool. In control. “I’ve studied the plays and techniques of our upcoming potential opponents,” I said, voice lower and decidedly more authoritative. Goddess-like, Keaton would say. “In fact I could probably recite their playbooks. And did you know Sarah Meitol’s left knee is giving her issues again? She’s a clutch center.”

His face was blank, completely unreadable. I continued.

“And,” I said, trying to balance the line between aggressive and respectful, “did you know that in instances where a tournament team had a Rookie of the Year playing point guard, ninety percent of the time that was the team that won the entire tournament?”

His frown deepened. “I . . .”

“Coach, I know I made a decision that seemed like it wasn’t best for the team, but believe me when I say I’ve put in an enormous amount of research into the next round already. I can give you statistics for the entire team if you’d just let me play.”

It was something I always did—research my opponents. So far, the team had never listened, but in the last two rounds it really worked. I know my strategies can help, if only Coach would let me.

He held up his hand. “Thea, clearly you’re on this team for a reason. You’re talented and I can see you have a lot of potential. But this kind of transgression shows blatant disrespect for the team.”

“Please, let me make it up to you. I’ve shown you how much outside work I do for preparation. I can share it with the team.”

His frown lightened a moment. I could see in his eyes he really didn’t want to bench me. “You’re benched for the next game, but if we move on you’re back. But consider yourself on probation. You will show up at practice early and will leave late. You hit the gym twice a day to work on strength and agility. You do not leave your room past curfew. You check in with the captains every night at ten
PM
from your dorm room. You attend zero campus parties. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“And you will do a PowerPoint with all those stats so we can talk about these things with the team. You’ve done a lot of work and they could really benefit from what you’ve discovered. But know this Thea, I only give second chances once.”

“Coach?” I asked meekly. “I am going to be visiting my family one day this week. Should I text you from there or something? Hit my hometown YMCA and work out there?”

He pondered for a minute. “Fine. But I want that update from the gym. I want you hitting it hard as penance.”

I chuckled. “Drop and give me twenty?”

He smiled. “Sort of like that.”

“I won’t let you down,” I said.

He sighed. “I’ve always wanted someone like you on the team, a freshman with the talents and the brain of a senior. Someone I could mold all four years. Stick with us, Thea. And get your priorities straight.”

Keaton had to leave Miami before me, but I wished I could have gone with him instead of sitting on our bench, watching our team win without my help. But we did win, and that meant we’d be moving on to the Final Four, which was going to be played at home.

And I was pushing my body to the limit trying to prove to Coach that I could do penance properly.

A few days of hardcore commitment left my body tired of basketball and in need of something else, I confessed to Scarlett. We had chatted about my night with Keaton and she congratulated me on what sounded like a perfect evening. She and I had talked a lot since I got back from Miami, so it was no surprise when she invited me to her shop around eight
PM
the day before I left to see my parents at home for the night. I said she couldn’t keep me past nine thirty or I’d turn into a pumpkin.

Keaton and I had texted and talked a lot, too. He reminded me time and again about going to Europe, but I delayed my decision, citing my extra-hard schedule. He felt bad that I had got in trouble for our little escapade, but he knew I wouldn’t trade it. This was good penance, a good way to keep my head in the game.

I texted him that I missed him and that I was sad I wouldn’t see him for two months.

He just texted back a winky. What did that mean?

Scarlett’s smile was extra Cheshire tonight when I walked into the back room.

“What?” I asked, smirking at her. “You look suspicious.”

She shrugged. “Maybe cause I have a surprise for you.” Scarlett reached behind the counter and pulled out a large red box.

“The last time you offered me a surprise, there was a naked classmate inside.”

“He wouldn’t fit in here,” she joked and held the box to her crotch, clearly making a Dick in the Box joke.

I shook my head. “Really, Scarlett, you shouldn’t have.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, call it a congrats on making it to the Final Four gift. Or a congrats on being a real Domme gift. Just stop being humble and take it.”

The box was tied with a black vinyl bow made from bondage tape, and I chuckled at her creative ways. I mean, she was no Pinterest advocate or anything, but it was pretty fancy and clever. Maybe she should open a store for kinky crafts on Etsy. I opened the lid and pulled out a very revealing outfit. It was like a red leather bikini with a strip of woven rope that connected the two pieces straight down the abdomen. It was really hot, but really,
really
skimpy.

“Go put it on,” she said, shoving me toward one of the dressing rooms.

I grimaced. People could be coming in here—I was fine baring quite a bit at parties like the one at Nathan’s, but this was nearly nude. It was scraps, for goodness’ sake. I would be very exposed and I wasn’t sure how to tell her no.

“Oh, stop being a prude,” she said, ushering me forward.

I wracked my brain for a compromise. “I’ll try it on, but I won’t promise I’ll come out,” I lectured. “Maybe I’ll just flash you.” I tripped over my shoe and stumbled past the curtain, bracing myself for bonking my head against the mirror. Instead, arms encircled me.

I looked up into Keaton’s eyes.

“Surprise,” he whispered, pulling my mouth to his for a long, wet kiss.

“So this is your sub, eh?” Scarlett said, holding the curtain and watching our embrace. “He called me to set up this little get together. You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

I didn’t even blush. “Yup,” I said, yanking his head back to me and slipping my tongue into his mouth. I grabbed his ass and ground against him. The two days we spent apart felt like months.

“How about you use one of my rooms?” Scarlett said, grabbing her big key ring and escorting us down the hall to a door I hadn’t seen yet. It was black and shiny and studded. “This is the VIP suite,” she explained.

“You don’t have to do that,” Keaton replied, hand up in apology as if he were embarrassed by his fame.

Scarlett clucked. “Thea’s the VIP, punk boy,” she said, swatting his ass playfully as we passed. “Have fun!”

Oh, you have no idea
, I thought to myself as I led Keaton by the hand into the depths of the room. I flicked on the light and my breath caught.

The room was made almost entirely of mirrors. Walls, ceiling, even parts of the floor. In the center of the room was a bed with black silk sheets and a single pillow. Beside the bed were tall black dressers, probably stocked with all the lube and toys the mind could conceive.

I pulled Keaton by his T-shirt’s collar. “What are you doing here?” I whispered into his neck, taking a nibble. “You have a show tonight.”

He let his head dip back, enjoying my playful bites. “Drummer’s sick. Show’s postponed,” he breathed, pressing his body into mine. “Not to wish him ill, but I hope he pukes his guts out another few days so I can spend the week with you.”

I hesitated. I’d be going home tomorrow, not staying around here. “Take off your clothes,” I said, changing lanes toward something I know he wouldn’t possibly say no to.

Turning away from him, I grabbed my outfit from Scarlett and walked behind a changing screen. I wanted to reveal the skimpy getup, not just strip and lose all sense of excitement. I know it would only be my second time, but I had learned a thing or two. And as everyone says, I was a fast learner.

Although admittedly I did poke my head out from the screen every few seconds to watch him undress. Those abs, those tats. I was going to absolutely wreck him tonight.

I laced up the suit, threw on a pair of pumps Scarlett had kindly left behind the screen, and stepped out. Keaton’s expression both brightened and darkened at the same time. A smirk of pleasure, but eyes hungry and desperate. Again, he made me feel powerful just with a look.

“On the bed,” I said, voice husky and thick. I wanted him with a painful desire. Nude, he strode to the bed, muscles rippling, piercings winking at me with a silvery glint. I smiled as I watched a hundred of Keaton’s reflections walk across the room. So much hotness.

“On your knees,” I said, pointing to the center. There were so many things I had fantasized about doing to him, and our one night in Miami wasn’t enough. I was so glad we would get this reprieve before the dry spell of his tour.

Keaton raked his hands through his messy hair and complied quickly. I approached him, ropes slung over my arm. He glanced at them and smiled.

“Do you do yoga, Baby Blue?” I asked, hovering over him.

He shook his head no.

“When we’re training,” I said, stroking his jaw with my pointer, “we do some yoga to keep limber.”

His mouth made a little O.

“One of the poses is called camel pose. This would be similar, but not exact. You’re almost there,” I said, guiding his hands to his heels. “Arch your back.” The hundred Keatons in the mirrors arched with him and I decided that if I went on tour, I’d want a room like this, just so I could watch him from every angle.

He bent over backward, leaning on his elbows. I ran my hands down his tight abs, watching him flex and bend. “Lean further back.”

His body stretched into a nearly impossible angle. His cock was upright, but his body was leaning intensely. This was going to be fun. “I’m going to tie your wrists to your ankles now.

“Please, Goddess,” he moaned, still craning backward. I quickly used the blue rope to tether him tightly, then looked back at my handiwork. I was proud. The time at the play party and my little late-night snippets of research had worked. Sweet.

I was dying to crawl on top of him, but first I wanted to get this on film. I pulled out my iPhone and queued up the camera.

“Smile,” I said, testing his devotion.

He didn’t even flinch. Here he was, a celebrity, and he was letting me photograph him nude and bound. My heart fluttered and for a moment, I felt more than lust. He trusted me. I put the camera down and slid up to him.

“You look great like this,” I said, tracing his stretched muscles with my fingertips. He trembled.

“I would stay like this for weeks if you wanted,” he said, voice raspy with need. “Anything for you. Always.”

My fingers danced lower, teasing. He shook more.

“Are you uncomfortable?” I asked, worried that the trembling was from effort and not desire.

“Never been better,” he replied with a saucy wink.

I mock-frowned. “Did you just wink at your Mistress?”

He grimaced. “I think I did.”

Crawling forward, I lectured him. “Then I won’t suck your cock like I was planning to.”

“I will not wink at my Mistress again unless it is winking with her and not at her.”

“Damn straight,” I said, mounting Keaton swiftly instead of pleasuring him. I wanted to try that, since we hadn’t before. Another time.

“Oh,” he gasped, unprepared for my quick and wet assault. I rocked my hips frantically, having missed his body so badly. Regardless of how many times we’d exchanged sexy texts, calls, and even Skype sessions, I needed this. His body, the taste of his sweat, all of it.

“My goddess, you’ve positively blossomed,” Keaton groaned, eyeing me with an expression of awe.

Was my practice that obvious? I didn’t screw anyone, I swear!

He began to elaborate, while gently lifting his hips to meet my frantic pulse. “The confidence you’re showing, how comfortable you are in that glorious body,” he said, licking his lips. “A woman who knows exactly what she wants.”

I bounced harder. “Everything I want is right here,” I moaned, sliding my hands up his sweat-slick body and flicking his pierced nipple.

“Goddess, I . . .” he trailed, swallowing hard. I knew what he wanted.

“I’m almost there, too,” I whispered, “just another minute.”

And that was when he began to hum.

That voice, the one that made him a star, began to rumble a low, sexy note. Equal parts arousal, amazement, and pure heavenly chorus. The sound alone pushed me off a cliff and we came together.

God, how I missed him.