How to Reprimand Your Rock Star (DommeNation #2) (22 page)

Two Months Later

High above the Atlantic, I realized things had changed forever. Regardless of whether Keaton and I stayed together for the long term, or whatever happened at college in the fall, I would never be the same.

Life after the championship was exciting on a daily basis and it became the new normal for me. We were campus heroes, I was the Rookie of the Year, and wherever I went I was getting high fives.

Or girls clamoring to be my friend and asking me all about Keaton.

My post-season days were a blur of books and bondage. Scarlett and Nico and I met regularly and our training continued. Nico actually became a pretty good friend, since we had some similar classes and similar recreational habits. His bisexual side showed a bit more and he had started dating a Dom named Eric. I was totally happy for him. And as for Scarlett, Keaton’s charms worked on her and she gave our relationship her blessing. Not that we needed it, but it made me feel more secure that a Domme I respected so much had given my sub the okay. I knew that she was going to be formative in this part of my life, so having that tension relieved was a huge burden lifted.

Callie still grilled me daily about Keaton’s sexual details, habits, and anatomical statistics. I continued to decline to answer.

My parents had accepted my relationship with Keaton and I easily filled my summer position at the pizza shop and as an assistant coach at camp. I had no more obligations until fall, when school and real basketball started again. For the first time in my life, I was completely free to just be myself and see where my life would take me. It was as freeing as it was frightening, but I didn’t want it any other way.

I adjusted my seat and leaned back. Wow, aside from my excursion to North Carolina with Keaton, I had only ever experienced coach. Here in first class, I was reclining fully with a plate of cookies and milk watching
Thor
on the screen in front of me. Not bad. All I’d need was a gym to practice hoops and this would be perfect. Impractical for a plane, but perfect.

I didn’t really know what to expect in Europe, other than crowds and fans and fancy hotels. I didn’t care as long as Keaton was there. Right now I wanted to see him in nothing but my collar. Squirming in my seat, I focused on the image as I drifted off into a nap.

When the plane arrived and it was time to disembark, I turned my phone on to see a message from Keaton.
Don’t find us, we’ll find you
, it read.

Cryptic as ever,
I thought to myself and smiled.

I got off the plane at Heathrow, wheeling my UConn Husky luggage, and immediately saw a man in a tuxedo holding a sign that said A
THENA
. I smiled. The man wasn’t Keaton, but I understood his reasons for not being in a crowded airport. The man flagged me down and took my luggage. I only brought a carry-on because I hated having to wait at the baggage claim. Plus I figured I’d saved up a little to spend and may as well buy some cool European clothes to take home.

Scarlett would be so proud.

Before I’d left for the airport, I’d sent her a few texts and we chatted about our plans for summer. She was busy trying to keep Nico out of trouble now that he wanted to be with Eric constantly. Scarlett also still trained him on a regular basis, and I was pretty sure training included fucking. Not the worst job in the world, she had commented. I liked her. I almost wished she could be with me this summer to experience all this with me. She was like the little devil on my shoulder.

I suppose that gave me something to look forward to for fall.

It’s not that I didn’t want to play ball anymore, and not being a freshman was something I longed for, but Keaton had shifted everything in my life. If I were going to keep my scholarship, I’d have to lock some part of me away from him. Otherwise, I could easily see myself falling into the trap my mother warned me about.

Wanting to travel the world with him forever.

My escort took me to a large stretch limousine waiting outside. Luckily, he had said, Heathrow wasn’t too far outside of London proper and we’d be at the hotel soon.

We pulled up to The Langham Hotel, which was adjacent to the BBC Broadcasting House. The hotel had a slightly oriental flair, but with an elegant opulence that I had always associated with London. The concierge came out to greet me and took my bag. I went to tip the limo driver but he said that Keaton had made all such arrangements.

Aha. So that’s how this was going to be. I frowned at the idea of him “taking care” of me. He’d get a spanking for that.

The concierge escorted me personally to the suite and handed me my keycard. He turned and headed toward the elevator and I stood outside the Infinity Suite, palms sweating with anticipation. There was a show tomorrow night, so I had Keaton all to myself today, he had promised.

I slid my key into the door and marveled.

Cream marble foyer, eggplant colored walls all spread out in front of me with rooms in every direction. Straight ahead was a bright, giant chandelier made of tiny balls of white glass. It looked like glittering sea foam.

“Hello?” I called, remembering our other encounter in a chic hotel room. A blush sprang to my cheeks and I felt the sexual side of me stir.

“I’m in our bedroom,” he said, voice low and rich like the tapestries along the hotel’s wide windows.

My body shivered at the phrase. So much implication there. I felt my insides tighten. A room just for us. I headed left to see the most glorious sight I could imagine.

Keaton was on the bed, kneeling, naked except for my collar. He had tied black rope to his wrists and ankles and left the ends spooled by his side, waiting for me to trap him in my web.

“Welcome,” he said. “Feel free to get yourself some refreshment. I’ll wait here.” His eyes flicked to a table set with fruit, cheese, champagne, sparkling water, and chocolates.

“Wow,” was all I could manage. I sauntered over, glancing at his gorgeous form, and stole a chocolate truffle. I bit into it, savoring the luxury of it all. This room was actually even fancier than the one in Miami.

“I hope this is to your liking,” he said, licking his lips. “All for you.”

I breathed in deeply, trying to focus on what was important. The decadence was a nice touch, but what I was really here for was on that bed.

“You’re to my liking,” I said, bringing a chocolate with me to the bed, which reminded me of the last time we were together. Two months ago. I was starving for him. “Open,” I said, and popped the truffle between his teeth like a sweet gag.

His throat rumbled in appreciation.

I brought my mouth to his and took a bite of the candy, letting our lips touch and letting the chocolate melt between us. I split the truffle in half, opening up its caramel center, flooding our mouths with syrup that we both greedily licked up. Tongues coated in confection, we exchanged a messy sweet kiss that spilled over onto his chin and down his sinuous neck.

“Thea,” he moaned, his cock twitching for me.

“Not yet,” I said, “not until you’re properly trussed.”

I had an idea I hadn’t tried yet. It was like partial suspension. I grabbed each wrist’s rope and hoisted them over each end of the poster bed, so his arms were out and he was slightly hanging. The ropes that were tied around his ankles I wove around the bottom of the posts by my feet. Keaton hung in the air, reclining at a forty-five-degree angle.

I would ride him midair today.

“Very clever,” he said, enjoying his new position. I grabbed another chocolate and shoved it between his teeth.

“Quiet. Just moans out of you.”

He nodded and I watched his tongue slip out the side of his mouth to lick the cocoa off the truffle’s surface.

I couldn’t get my clothes off fast enough. I peeled myself out of my yoga pants and workout halter top—and paused. I felt a bit weary from travel, a bit dirty.

“I think I’m going to use that lovely bath first,” I remarked, ogling the bathroom. It had an edgeless pool for a tub, and there was a warm bath drawn with steam rising. The tub was lit from below the water to replicate an aqua-green hue like that of the ocean.

I glanced at Keaton, who whimpered with his chocolate gag in his mouth.

A giggle rose in my throat as I sauntered into the bathroom nude, delaying his pleasure. The water was hot and when I dipped my toe in, my body involuntarily let out a throaty moan. I heard another whimper from my poor Baby Blue and laughed audibly as I stepped in.

“It’s so hot,” I said, sinking my body beneath the warm water’s surface. Inhaling, I smelled the fragrance of rose and gardenia. The room had been arranged with fresh flowers that matched the bathroom soap’s scent. How opulent. I squeezed some floral soap into a new fluffy white poof and began to lather my body.

“Oh, if you could be in here right now, Keaton,” I called to him, taunting. “I’m all hot and wet and bubbly.” Teasing Keaton was one of my new life’s greatest pleasures.

He chomped down on the truffle and swallowed. “You’re killing me, Goddess. And I think I like it.”

I smiled and soaked for a minute. But I couldn’t think of him in that room, bound without me. I wanted to touch him.

So I got up and untied him so he could join me in the tub. Then I stepped back in.

Keaton walked into the bathroom with a bottle of champagne and jumped into the tub, sending a tidal wave of bubbles across the gorgeous tile. “I’ve got your wet and bubbly right here,” he said, scooping me off the bottom of the tub.

I kicked, amazed at his ability to lift me with such ease. Those lean muscles were stronger than I had imagined. “Put me down!”

The baby blues I had come to love gleamed. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, pulling me from the air and sliding me right onto his submerged cock. I was so stunned that I bucked hard, sending another hot wave of bubbly water onto the floor.

“Keaton,” I moaned, feigning protest, “you’re manhandling me.” He felt so good, both of us nearly weightless, water caressing our bodies. I could barely get the words out.

I squealed as he pumped again, and then responded, “I couldn’t help myself. You’re a tease sometimes, you know.”

I nodded, giving in. I didn’t always have to be in control.

“Now about that bubbly,” he said, popping the champagne cork.

Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I leveraged my weight and tried to get some more friction. “I thought you didn’t drink,” I noted.

He smiled. “Only off perfect tits,” he said.

I giggled and tilted my neck back.

“Welcome to the tour,” he said. “Cheers.”

“Why don’t you go explore London for a few hours?” he asked as we dressed and dried.

“I’m going to do whatever I want, including whoop your ass so hard you won’t be able to fit into your leather pants tonight.”

I had brought our favorite paddle.

He looked at me hesitantly. “Did you sign the NDA? I’m sorry but Benjamin has been on my back. I’ve got another copy in case you lost the first.”

I didn’t want to address the thing that made me think we had broken up, so I just put the paper on the table, pissed. We’d talk about it later.

After he left, paper in hand, I turned on the TV just to clear my head and orient myself. British news, endless BBC channels, I flipped absentmindedly. I looked around me at this crazy, opulent room and the things he had provided for me. Was I being ungrateful about this whole thing? Or was I being unnecessarily spoiled?

Part of it felt wrong.

I was an athlete from a hardworking family, not some little princess who was to be pampered with chocolates and champagne and new ropes.

Okay, the new ropes I could get used to.

And that was before I found the closet full of clothes he had bought me. Several pairs of laminated jeans, the kind that look like leather but are actually denim. Some embellished tanks. I was guessing those were for shows. A leather jacket. Hmm, was I supposed to look like a rocker myself? There was a dress here and there, and a few casual clothes.

Some of the outfits were workout gear from lululemon athletica, a high-end store that sells ninety-dollar yoga pants. I usually just bought my gym clothes at the Nike outlet off the discount rack. I slipped on a pair of the tight, black stretchy pants and sighed. The material was so soft and luxurious, no wonder women paid so much. I looked in the mirror and confirmed another reason for the price tag: My ass looked phenomenal. I slid on a running top and tied my hair back.

A run would be good for me right now. Sweat out the anger and confusion.

I hit up the lobby and studied a map for a few minutes before taking off. There was a park that looked decent for running and it was a couple of blocks away so I could take in some scenery before doing laps. Not a bad warm-up, checking out London.

The buildings flew by in a blur as I jogged toward the park. I tried paying attention, I did, but that nagging part of me that told me I was out of my league prevailed. I worried about losing Keaton’s attention as soon as he found someone else or got bored with me.

He may wear my collar, but he also stole my heart. How could I keep the power if he had the most vulnerable part of me in his grasp?

And then there were the shows.

I had only been to one Trickster City show, and already it sent me into a tailspin of jealousy. Those girls, surging toward him as if the air around him would give them an orgasm. They loved him; they wanted him. Dammit, they couldn’t have him. Was I going to get into a fistfight?

By the time I had made it to the park, I was ready to tear up the pavement. I burst down the runners’ path, checking behind me to make sure there wasn’t skid marks left by my angry feet. Dammit, why couldn’t I have fallen for someone normal? Why couldn’t my life just be the regular day-to-day life of a college kid? Here I was thousands of miles from home and completely over my head.

As I raced, tears formed in my eyes. Who was I becoming? I was across the ocean from my family and friends, alone save for a crazy rock god, and questioning my entire life while wearing yoga pants that cost more than my prom dress.

I was overwhelmed when I returned to the hotel, and looking forward to a night of quiet talks with Keaton and catching up on the last two months. I realized I melted down a bit because I hadn’t had time to really adjust myself to this strange situation. And as for the NDA, well, it was part of the package, like he had said.

My plans were derailed, however, when I opened the door to a surprise party.

I FELT OUTRAGED. KEATON HAD
said this was our place, a private oasis for us. But when forty strangers had packed themselves into the suite, it felt much more like a club than a love nest.

“Darling,” Keaton said, greeting me as I walked in. I must have the deer-in-the-headlights look, because his face registered a bit of alarm and disappointment. “I thought you’d be out a little longer. The food isn’t here yet. This is your welcome party.” The crowd of unfamiliar faces cheered and I felt myself blush. He pulled me in close for a whisper. “I hope you’re not still mad.”

I shook my head, dazed.

I was sweaty, stunned, and regardless of how hot the yoga pants looked, I wasn’t dressed for the occasion.

“Everyone,” Keaton said, quieting the room with his characteristic charisma, “this is my girlfriend, Thea. She’s very special to me, and will be going on tour with us for the rest of the shows. Let’s show her a real Trickster City welcome!”

Again, cheers. A few very surprised faces. Just as Keaton finished his speech, the door opened again and a fleet of butlers came in wheeling trays of food.

The crowd was equal parts men and women, but all intimidating. The guys looked like rockers and the girls were all super skinny and glittered. I was made of muscle and frizz right about now and wanted to crawl under a rock.

Until Keaton planted a kiss on my cheek. “You look amazing in those,” he said, hand straying from the small of my back down a little lower. “So gorgeous.”

I smiled and felt the blush coming back. Maybe I could navigate around these people who were cooler than everyone I had ever known combined. I noticed a few faces from those
Cosmo
-
style magazines my friends read, so there were clearly models here. I saw more than a few musicians and was able to pick out the other bandmates. I tried to channel the athlete part of me that had total control over my body, and felt a surge of energy that radiated from my center outward, and I pulled my shit together.

Work the room, Thea.

I began to walk up to groups of people and offer my hand. The folks were cordial and I tried to remember all their names, but most faces just blurred by. Keaton, when he was around me, was all I could ever really see. About five minutes after my quick jaunt around the suite, he handed me an hors d’oeuvre.

“You look upset,” he said with a disappointed face. “Do you want to step out and talk?”

I shook my head. “I’m just surprised by this.”

“That’s the point,” he said, shrugging. “You don’t look surprised in a happy way.”

“I’m smelly and didn’t get a chance to shower.”

Keaton pulled me close and kissed my neck. “You smell as good as you look. And let me just say that I think you can make simple yoga pants look like haute couture.”

“I’m going to change.”

He frowned.

“My top.”

Keaton grinned and checked out my behind once more.

I gave him a playful swat on the bum and headed to the bedroom to change. I slid a long, spangled tank over the yoga pants and laced up some of the sexy boots Scarlett had given me. I unbound my hair, added a smudge of mascara to my eyes, and walked back out.

Suddenly, more eyes were on me than before. Part of me felt emboldened by my new look and the reactions it was getting, but I also hated confirming that sweaty and athletic wasn’t a look that got attention. It was much more me than this outfit was. Again, I felt awkward.

“You didn’t need to change, you know. Everyone here, all friends. Everyone’s cool,” Keaton said, handing me a chocolate.

“You don’t need to keep feeding me,” I said, holding the chocolate. “I’d rather see this in your mouth later.”

His eyes widened and he put the chocolate aside, wrapped in a napkin. “I’m starting to think you’re developing a chocolate fetish.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

He shook his head. “Not one bit.”

The night wound on and I finally got to learn some names, and on the whole it wasn’t so bad. The models were much smarter than I had imagined, and the rockers were far more polite than any stories I had read about them. Breaking misconceptions seemed to be the theme of the evening.

“I’m surprised you’re going on tour with him,” Sammie said, a young model who was dating the drummer. “He never does that.”

I cocked my head. “Because no girl is around long enough?”

Sammie shook her pixie-cut. “No, I mean he doesn’t mix women and music. Which, up until now, made his manager very happy. Keaton never brings dates to parties, only goes out with them. Never invites girls to shows. He’s very private about his real life, his life on the road. Tabloids never get anything right.”

I felt my heart swell a bit and abandoned the worry that had been growing since I arrived. “So this is new for him?”

She nodded. “Very.”

I tucked away that one little word the way Keaton did the chocolate and knew I’d have a very satisfying evening, physically and emotionally.