by Mia Luxe
Headmaster Navy SEAL
An OMYW Domestic Discipline BBW Romance
Mia Luxe
Copyright © 2018 by Mia Luxe
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Foreword
1. Emily Jones
2. Tanner Strom
3. Emily Jones
4. Tanner Strom
5. Emily Jones
6. Tanner Strom
7. Emily Jones
8. Tanner Strom
9. Emily Jones
10. Tanner Strom
11. Emily Jones
12. Emily Jones
13. Emily Jones
14. Tanner Strom
15. Emily Jones
16. Tanner Strom
17. Emily Jones
18. Tanner Strom
19. Emily Jones
20. Emily Jones
21. Tanner Strom
22. Emily Jones
23. Emily Jones
24. Emily Jones
25. Emily Jones
Afterword
Foreword
This is a novel focused on an older man, younger woman domestic discipline romance, and is suitable for an adult audience who enjoys this style of book.
There are some potentially triggering themes.
I truly hope you enjoy this novel!
Mia Luxe
1
Emily Jones
“Wait, no,” I say, pushing away Mike’s hand. He slides his hand back to my knee, and as he kisses me deeper his fingers stray up my skirt, exploring and testing my boundaries. I pull away, opening his Ferrari door.
“Oh, come on, baby! I love you. You’re going to give me blue balls.”
I hide my smile.
He loves me. I can’t believe it.
“I… I love you too, Mike. I just have to be going. You know how my parents are.”
He smirks: “You’re going to have to give them a damn good excuse for this weekend. You know it’s my nineteenth, and you know you’re going to be there.”
I bite my lip, hoping my parents won’t suspect I’m at my boyfriend’s house this weekend.
If my parents knew… They’re already pissed I’m not their goody-little two-shoes, straight-A student anymore…
“I already told them I’m going over to a friend’s house to study our first-year curriculum. I’ll be there.”
“Good. The mansion my dad’s renting for me has a massive pool, so bring your bathing suit. And stay away from the sweets for a week – so that tight body looks good for me. Alright, baby?”
Heat flushes to my cheeks.
“I can’t wait,” I respond, and he winks at me, sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I close the door and he tears away, his engine roaring.
I can’t believe how lucky I am.
Mike Fuller – the beautiful, incredible Mike Fuller – loves me.
I skip up the driveway to my house.
The Top 40s mix bumps as I get out of the cab and walk towards the huge mansion. The sun beams down on me, warming me as I step towards the massive group of partiers. The most beautiful car I’ve ever seen stands in the middle of the driveway, far enough away from the partiers to be safe. It’s got an oversized bow on it. The car looks mean, predatory, and very, very fast.
I rush towards the party, almost running. It took longer than I planned to shake my parents off.
I’m the worst girlfriend in the world. I’m late to his birthday party.
I get to the pool and a surge of jealously rushes through me as I see Mike talking to a gorgeous, tan brunette. I’d starved myself all week, but I’ll never be as skinny as her.
“Baby! You’re here! Finally!”
I beam as he notices me, ignoring the brunette and walking towards me.
“Hi, babe! Happy birthday! I’m so sorry I’m late.”
He kisses me, his lips pressing against mine, his tongue darting in. He breaks off the kiss, leaving me breathless, and leans in towards my ear.
“You know why I forbade you from bringing me a birthday gift, baby?”
“Why, Mike?”
He licks his lips. “Tonight, you’re my gift. I can’t wait to unwrap you.”
I shiver.
Am I ready? What happens if I don’t feel ready?
Shut up, Emily. You’re 18. You can’t be a virgin forever.
He smirks, showing his flawless teeth. Then he leans forward and gives me a push. I scream as I fall into the pool, still in my jeans and shirt. The cold water shocks me, and I burst to the surface, pulling my phone out of my pocket and throwing it onto the side.
“Mike! What the hell!”
Laughter cascades around the party.
He extends his arm, pulling me out. “You better not be late again,” he says with a smile that feels a little too cold.
I pick my phone up and press it. The screen flickers, then turns on.
Thank goodness! I wouldn’t want to have to explain to my dad that I need a new phone already… What would I even say?
“I said I was sorry!”
“And now we’re even. Let me get you a drink. Did you see my new car? Bugatti. Chiron. Brand-fucking-new. You know how much it cost?”
I shake my head. “I saw it. It’s beautiful. But I don’t know much about cars.”
His beautiful, model-face goes serious for a second before the love of my life is back.
“Guess.”
I think hard. “Um, four hundred thousand?”
His eyes go wide. “Jesus, maybe I should throw you in the pool again! It’s almost three million. You need to learn, gorgeous. Thank God you have me to teach you. And I’m going to teach you plenty tonight.”
Gorgeous. I fucking love it when he calls me that.
He hands me a drink, and I take a sip, screwing up my face at how strong it is. I haven’t eaten in two days and the first sip makes me a little light-headed.
“Wow, that’s strong.”
He smiles. “Loosen up! It’s my birthday. Come here, baby.”
He beckons me close and kisses me so deep I feel like I’m going to melt away. The warm sun dries me, and it’s like I never fell in the pool at all.
I can’t tell if I’m dreaming as rough hands grope at my body in the darkness of the room. He pulls my shirt off, exposing my breasts. They bounce and he reaches forward to touch me where I’ve never been touched before.
“Stop, Mike. What are you doing?”
My words feel slow and faraway. His sweaty body presses down on me, pinning me to the bed. I try to raise my hand to push Mike away, but my arm moves in slow motion.
How much… How much did I drink?
He ignores me, groping me and kissing me deep. Panic surges through me.
He drugged me.
The realization is crystal clear. I push him away, but he’s too strong. He doesn’t weigh much more than me, but he presses his knees forward, pushing my legs apart.
I reach out and feel something on the table beside me. I punch at him with whatever it is as hard as I can. I hit Mike in the nose and he jumps back, grabbing his face. Red blood shines in the moonlight. Adrenaline fills me as I see the raw rage in his eyes. Suddenly my limbs work again.
“What the fuck? You bitch!”
I run out of his bedroom, stumbling, my movements slow. I rush down the stairs, missing the last step and stum
bling to the ground. I pull myself up in panic, knowing he’s coming after me. My hand aches. Whatever I hit Mike with jabbed me as I fell. I look at what I have in my hand. It’s a tan key that says Bugatti in white letters.
I climb unsteadily to my feet as I hear Mike running down the stairs behind me, his steps heavy.
I don’t want to think what he’ll do if he catches me.
I dart out the front door, slamming it behind me, and run down the driveway. Mike’s brand-new Bugatti is in the middle of the driveway, beckoning to me. It’s a safe haven. I click a button on the key to unlock the doors and dive into the beautiful car. The leather seats smell so new. My stomach roils and I throw up, and when I wipe my face I see Mike in the rearview mirror. I scramble to click the doors shut.
He goes up to the window, pressing his hands against the glass.
“You bitch! You fucking threw up in my brand-new Bugatti? Open the door right now or I’ll break the fucking window!”
He slams his open hand against the glass, his palm smacking it as hard as he can. I curl up in the driver’s seat, wishing I could take this night back. The world feels fuzzy and unreal.
He said he loved me. He drugged me!
He forms a fist and hits the driver’s window so hard a hairline crack shoots down the length. I hear the scream leave my mouth as if it’s someone else’s voice.
I’ve never seen him so angry. His beautiful features are contorted in rage. His normally coiffed hair is astrewn, sweat dripping down his face.
I turn the car on, the engine roaring to life. I have to get away. I slam on the gas, hearing the engine roar, but the car doesn’t move.
“Turn the car off!”
He slams his fist against the window again, deepening the cracks.
I pull the shifter into drive and press down on the acceleration, and the car roars forward like it’s possessed. It’s so fast I can’t control it, and I turn the wheel to avoid a hedge.
The pool looms in front of me. I take my foot off the gas and slam on the brakes – the tires squealing and protesting as the car plunges into the pool, filling with water. I gasp and unlock the doors – but as I push at the long, low door, the water stops it from opening. I landed in the deep end and the front half of the car is underwater. I feel woozy as I try to push the door open, and when it won’t budge I smash at the window with my fists, deepening the cracks.
The window breaks with a sharp snap. Water and glass come rushing in. The water fills the car, gushing. I try to wriggle through the window, feeling the glass cutting my body, but I can’t make it through.
Oh, my God! I’m going to die!
I take a huge gasp of air as the car fills with water – and then I’m submerged.
I kick at the door, trying with all my might to get it open. My kicks get weaker as I grow faint, my lungs burning for air. Every cell in my body tells me to open my mouth and breathe in, but I know if I do that everything will be over.
I gather all my energy for one last kick, and when my feet slam against the door it finally opens. Adrenaline surges through my body, but my muscles are slow and sluggish. I swim out, my clothes dragging me down. I surface and gasp for air, so weak that I know if I don’t get out now I’ll be dragged back down to a watery grave.
Loming at the edge of the pool, Mike looks down at me with hate-filled eyes.
He doesn’t reach forward to save me.
“Hey! Look!”
I hear the yells from behind me, and then a splash as someone dives into the water. I’m pulled out, trying to cover my exposed breasts with my arms. I gasp as I’m laid out on the side of the pool, staring up at the stars.
Mike leans in.
“You’re dead to me,” he growls in my ear.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
My head pounds as my father screams in the hospital room.
“Dad, I swear! He drugged me!”
“He drugged you? Who fucking drugged you? We got the blood test back. You were drunk as a skunk and that’s it. What kind of idiot idea took over you to steal Mike Fuller’s car and drive it into the pool? You could have died!”
Tears well up and cascade down my cheeks. The room spins and moves – whatever drug Mike gave me mixing with the alcohol to overwhelm my senses.
I was drugged. I know it.
My mom tries to pull my father back, but he leans forward, his jowls trembling as his neck twitches.
“You know how much you cost us? You know we were negotiating the sale of 10% of our company to the Fuller family! After your little stunt, I had to give 25% just so they wouldn’t press charges!”
I fight to keep my eyes open. I’m so tired.
“Dad, that’s not…”
“I won’t hear another lie out of your mouth. I’ve had enough of your disobedience. Ever since you started college you’ve been nothing but trouble. That’s it! I’m taking you out. You’re getting shipped off to Strom’s academy.”
My thoughts are all jumbled. I haven’t seen Tanner Strom in four or five years. The beefy former marine used to come to family dinners until his new business took all his time.
The hospital. My volunteering.
“Dad, no! I can’t leave. They need me here. I’ve got two volunteer shifts next week… Or was it three?”
“Jesus, you’re so damn drunk you can’t even think straight. You’re a disappointment, Emily Jones.”
My mom comes forward and kisses me gently on the forehead before my father pulls her away, leaving the room with her.
When they leave the tears stream down my face.
I didn’t steal his car! I was just trying to get away from him. He wanted to rape me!
My own father wouldn’t believe me.
He cares more about his company than me.
My eyes close, feeling so heavy. I’m reeling from the heartbreak of losing who I thought was the love of my life.
I scrunch up my eyes, knowing I have to be strong.
If Tanner Strom thinks he can keep me away from my volunteer work, he’s got another thing coming…
2
Tanner Strom
I rap my knuckles on my desk, confused by the call I just had with Jacob Jones.
His daughter stole a three-million-dollar car and drunk-drove it into a pool? She was always such a bookworm.
The last five years have been a blur – founding and running an academy to teach spoiled rich kids discipline, while at the same time working for my certification so I can award those same kids credits. That way, these rich kids don’t fall behind even as they learn how to act like grown-ups. It’s a fulltime job – and I have plenty of customers. If there’s one thing the world doesn’t run out of, it’s spoiled rich kids who think they can get away with murder.
But I never took Emily for a spoiled little brat.
I shake my head and pour myself a strong bourbon. I sip the amber liquid as I lean back in my chair, relishing the moment alone in my hectic schedule.
The semester has already started, and I prefer not to take late-comers. They tend to have a tough time fitting in.
But for an old friend, I had to do a favor. I’ve known Jacob Jones since high school, and while he was ruthless in his business dealings, he was soft as a father. He got lucky with a meek daughter, but the second she showed her teeth it wasn’t surprising he shipped her off to me.
It’s the parents fault their kids grow up like this. They just need a little discipline.
I take a deep sip from my glass, letting the smoky flavor sink into my tongue. Good bourbon was the thing I missed most in the Middle East when I did my tours. I told my squad-mate to pour a shot on my grave if I didn’t make it out, and he made me promise to do the same for him. Every year I go to that tombstone and reminisce – wondering why I made it back and he didn’t, as I share a lonely drink with my old friend.
“Life ain’t fair. Someone’s got to teach these spoiled brats some discipline if they’re going to be future titans of industry in ou
r country.”
I finish the bourbon in a large swig, shaking my head.
Emily hadn’t been a spoiled brat when I’d known her. How did that sweet little bookworm turn into a menace?
3
Emily Jones
My dad drives me up the long winding road in silence. The car feels icy cold, and it isn’t the AC. The last three days I’ve spent crying non-stop, until all the emotion left me. The betrayal I felt hurt worse than anything.
For the first time in my life, Mike had made me feel like I was worth something.
Then he took it all away. I feel dead inside.
I stare up the mountain to the tall, stone walls of the academy. It’s like a castle, private and enchanting. If the circumstances weren’t so dire, I might find it beautiful – a sanctuary away from the ugliness of life. We stop at the gates, and my dad rolls down the window.
The tall, black-haired man at the gate asked: “How can I help?”
“I’m bringing a new student. Emily Jones.”
He looks down, checking a list.
“Can I see ID?”
What is this, a military prison?
My dad fumbles in his pocket and pulls out his driver’s licence. He hands it over, and the black-haired man scrutinizes it, comparing it three times to his face.
“Ma’am, do you have ID?”
I scowl. “What is this, some sort of compound?”
“Emily, give the man ID.”