by Mina Vaughn
“That was . . . classy,” Callie said as we left.
I shrugged. “Nobody should feel that shitty in front of so many people. Plus, I’m feeling generous tonight.”
She frowned. “Oh really?”
I nodded and pulled out my phone. “Yeah, I’m trying to be good to karma. You’ll see why later.”
“Aren’t you going in?” Callie asked, hand on her hip, highlighter dangling from between her lips like a cigarette.
I looked over my shoulder. No Keaton yet. “Um, I’m waiting for someone.”
She made a psssh sound. “Everyone that matters is inside. Who could you . . .” she trailed off and raised her eyebrows. “You wouldn’t take him to a measly little college party, would you? I mean, how would that even be possible. Trickst—”
My finger flew to my lips and I shooshed her prematurely.
Callie bounced. “You’re lying. Lying. He’s coming here? How? More importantly, why?” Her frantic flailing had garnered a bit of attention from others heading into the house, so I pulled her into the bushes and pinched her lips shut.
“Keaton came to surprise me. Nobody’s going to recognize him in the dark with his face all painted, okay?”
She nodded mutely, eyes wide at my fingers that were still holding her mouth shut. I continued. “You don’t make a fuss over him. You don’t act like he’s anything special. You just say he’s my boyfriend from home.”
At this comment, Callie’s lips squeezed from under my grasp and she gasped loudly. “Is he?!”
I shrugged. “Of course not! I mean, we haven’t defined anything and he’s a freaking globe-trotting hot-ass. All I know is that we’re together tonight and we will be in the same city when we’re in North Carolina. So chill.”
Callie’s feet tapped out a little victory jig for me. “Okay, chill, got it.”
I lifted my eyebrows at her in warning. “Don’t blow his cover.”
“I’ll leave the blowing to you,” she said with a wink. The dark hid my blush as she skipped off and a hand wrapped around my waist from behind me.
“Will you be pinching my lips shut later?” Keaton asked softly into my ear. I spun and kissed him hard.
“Yeah, with my own lips,” I said and nibbled his bottom lip.
He growled.
I pulled out my paints. He already wore a white tee and I saw he had picked up some novelty sunglasses that were neon-yellow rimmed. My face was done up war-paint style with stripes under my eyes, a line down my nose and my lips were neon pink. I decided to mark Keaton with the same design to show my ownership of him. He squinted and squirmed as I ran the paint all around his face. I loved the way his skin felt under my slippery fingers, and I realized I wanted to paint all of him.
I also decided to write “I Love Thea” and “Go Huskies” up and down his arms to take attention away from his tattoos and help him blend in more as a fan. No, not really. I just wanted to touch his arms some more.
My handiwork wasn’t bad, I thought, as I looked him up and down. Even covered in neon paint, Keaton was gorgeous.
“Can you hide that accent?” I asked, wondering what people would say about a guy from my small town who happened to have a British accent.
“Yes,” he said, “although I’ll only speak if spoken to by you, Goddess.”
I swatted his firm ass. “That’s more like it.” Looks like my session with Scarlett and Nico had really emboldened me.
I took him by the hand and led him into the party. The music was thumping like crazy and the place was jam-packed with students. Blacklights shone from every lightbulb and made the house look like a club. Husky fans were made up like neon warriors and most of the boys’ team was intoxicated already, trying to drink off the pain from the night’s loss.
Reese and Donelle saluted me from a dark corner, and Callie worked her way across the room with two cups in her hand.
“Here,” she said timidly, staring completely doe-eyed and awestruck at Keaton, unlike when she had met him at the concert. Maybe it was finally setting in.
Keaton waved his hand in decline. I did the same, but he turned to me.
“Have a little fun. I’ll take care of you.”
I straightened. “I do not need you to take care of me.”
“I meant,” he said, lowering his head but keeping his eyes on me, “that I’d love to serve you by being the responsible party tonight.”
I thought for a moment. “That’s better,” I said and took the cup. There was no practice tomorrow and I could use a little loosening up, considering my senses were always on high alert when Keaton was around. It would be nice to take the edge off and just relax with him. It’s not that he made me nervous; he just made me very, very aware. Aware of my body, his, my words, the things he did and did not say. A sip went down and soothed my throat.
“Let’s dance,” I said, and my black-lit man followed me to the dance floor.
The music wasn’t his style, since there was always much more hip-hop at parties than rock, but that didn’t stop Keaton. His body moved in ways we normal people could never coordinate. Each small rock, each motion of his hips drew attention. Eyes just kept finding him, as though he were a human hiding among zombies and they just now got the scent of his flesh.
If he kept this up, they’d be onto us soon. I had to do something. He just danced so well, so sexily, so goddamn irresistibly that I had to push him off the dance floor.
And into the wall.
I kissed him, grabbing his throat and pulling him closer to me. We gasped for air and I couldn’t help but press him further into the wall and squeeze our bodies together as close as possible. Our tongues danced, our bodies danced, and I felt new sensations just from this second kiss. It was more ferocious than the last one, more needy. My body was starting to tell me what it was I wanted from him. As if I already didn’t know.
“What was that for?” he whispered when I came up for air.
“Your dancing. It was conspicuous,” I said, planting a playful smooch on his chin.
“Conspicuous?”
I nodded. “College guys don’t dance that well,” I said scanning the crowd. “They hold their beers in the air and they grind against girls’ asses. They don’t . . . move like you do.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” he chuckled. “I am a performer, though, so I suppose my moves are a bit more artful.”
“Perform for me,” I said, tucking us farther into the room’s corner. There were plenty of people making out at the party. Nobody would pay particular attention to us. “I want to watch you dance, now that I’m safely blocking you from the crowd.”
Keaton smiled. “Will you dance with me?”
I nodded.
He grabbed my hip. “Then let’s heat up this little corner.”
Keaton’s body began to move to the rhythm, and mine followed. I had never been much of a dancer at parties, but tonight was about letting go. I finished the drink I was holding and let our hips crash together to the bumping sounds. His eyes burned under the blacklight and his painted smirk drove me crazy as we thrashed against each other to the music.
After a frantic minute, I felt his body responding to mine. I was already wet just from feeling and watching how his body moved, and now that I could feel his hardness against my groin, I just wanted to get out of the party and be alone with him.
“Let’s go to my dorm,” I whispered.
His hand wrapped around my shoulders as he put his mouth to my ear. “Patience, dear.”
Wait, did he not want me? Why was he prolonging this? I won’t let him stop me.
My hips pinned him to the wall and I rolled my body against his. Was he teasing me? He didn’t want me to throw him onto some dorm room bed and fuck him silly? “I want you now.” My bold words didn’t seem to startle him, but they sure surprised me. I was propositioning a rock star at a blacklight party.
His warm breath tickled my ear. “Tell you what,” he said, glancing next to us. “There’s a close
t door two feet down from you. Want to see if we can steal a little moment alone?”
I looked over and saw a louver door right by my shoulder.
“Think we can keep it shut?”
He shrugged.
“Think people can see in those little slats?”
“Probably not,” he replied, not seeming to care.
I bounced on my toes the way Callie had done earlier. “Let’s go,” I whispered, and when nobody was looking in our direction, we slipped inside the closet door.
Keaton laughed so hard once we got inside that I worried about people hearing us.
In his hands was a large fur coat.
“Do frat boys wear furs now?” he asked in a high-pitched whisper.
I stared at it and looked around the dark closet. “It’s a coat closet, but I don’t think people have used it since the eighties.”
He pulled another fur off the rack. “Look at the shoulders on this one.”
I stared at the pointed-triangle tufts of mink in awe. “I have no idea how this was ever an acceptable fashion statement.”
He dropped it on the floor. “Sure would make a comfy place to sit.”
The closet was tight and there were only a few feet of space on the floor, but he was right. Hell, if I could line a room with fur coats and roll around on them with Keaton I would, but for now, kneeling together on a fur coat from 1980 would do.
We fell to the ground together, frantically kissing. He worked his fingers into my hair and slid his tongue down my throat with desperation. My hands flew to his hard chest, caressing his muscles over his shirt, then under.
Keaton followed suit, running his hands under the tee and up my chest. I felt shivers. So this was college, I realized, getting a little tipsy and then felt up in a closet. Except, most people aren’t with a rock star.
His fingers felt amazing on my hot skin, and when he rubbed his thumb along my nipple I thought I was going to have an orgasm. Was that possible?
I doubted we had much time, and I really wanted to show Keaton my appreciation for his visit.
Also, I finally wanted to answer Callie’s question about size. There. I admitted it.
So I unbuttoned Keaton’s jeans and boldly slipped my hand inside.
I fought a gasp as my hand ran down his cock. He moaned softly as my hand roamed his body. It was dark, and I really wanted to just take my time with him, but our bodies were desperate and I just wanted to make him feel as good as possible. And, of course, I was hoping he’d return the favor.
And at that thought, as though he were reading my mind, Keaton’s hand found my button and zipper. One finger slid inside, but it was all he needed. All I needed. I couldn’t believe how ready for him I was, how easy it felt to accept his touch. I moaned and then muffled myself with his lips. I really, really didn’t want to get caught yet.
Soon we were kissing and touching and kneeling in the furs with hot, frantic bodies. I wanted to strip us down and feel the soft coats tickle our skin, but I knew we could save that fantasy for another time. The way he looked at me, eyes glinting in the soft purple light that peeked in from outside, it told me he wanted more.
I felt his finger rubbing me quickly, and soon my pants were around my knees and his fingers were inside me. It felt so full, so new. And with the people just outside, so taboo. I liked the forbidden feelings he was bringing out in me. His thumb circled my clit and soon I was holding back gasps and sighs and the only thing I moaned was Keaton’s name as I pulled his ear to my mouth. “I’m coming,” I whispered in a frantic pant.
His hand withdrew and I whimpered then focused on his needs more. Something Scarlett’s book had said was that regardless of top and bottom, the best D/s relationships were ones where everyone’s needs were met. Now I didn’t know all of Keaton’s desires, but I knew at least one.
I slid his jeans down and took his body in both hands. His head rolled back and I watched his Adam’s apple bob as I brought him to the edge, working my hands up and down his shaft. Keaton glanced up at a trench coat with a long, dangling tan belt.
“What do you want to do with that?” he asked as I eyed it.
“Tie you up,” I moaned, voice hoarse. I quickly bound his hands with it and then brought my fingers back to his hard body, which twitched at my contact.
And with a gorgeous moan, Keaton came, bound and in a closet. And I found out that black light makes everything more interesting. And glowy.
The next week involved training on two fronts for me. With the team, we worked out our bodies to a frenzy. I’ve never been stronger or faster. The weight training, the plyometrics, and the cardio had made me feel like Superwoman.
And the other training, well, it was quite different. Scarlett had shown me nearly every piece of bondage equipment in the shop. We watched a few BDSM films together, including Secretary, which was amazing despite the fact that the female was a submissive. I was really getting immersed in this new world.
But for this weekend, I had to be back in the basketball zone. I knew I’d possibly see Keaton, but he had to play second fiddle to my team. Or, at least, that’s what I told myself. It was hard to prioritize right now.
“Thea’s got her game face on,” Nicole said, eyeballing me as a few of my teammates stared at my hunched posture, head in my hands, sitting in the airport lobby and preparing for our flight to North Carolina.
“Yeah,” I replied, burying my head deeper in my hands to cover my blush. “Gotta focus.”
Reese clapped her hand on my shoulder. “Feeling ready?”
I nodded.
“Thanks, guys. Yeah, I’m feeling one hundred percent better than I did a couple of weeks ago.”
The team seemed satisfied with my response, and I retreated back into my fantasies of Keaton and the items I bought at Scarlett’s shop. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Those baby blue eyes, that rogue smile, and the things we did in that closet. I crossed and uncrossed my legs. Damn, the effect that man had on me. I just wanted to know for sure that I’d be able to see him while we were both in North Carolina. My phone buzzed and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Pull your head out of the gutter, it read. I looked up across the lounge and saw Callie staring at me, making kissy faces.
Go fuck yourself, I typed back, hiding my smirk. I wondered how she’d react if she knew about my purchases.
I just know that we’re going to win both games and you’re going to get your little tryst! she texted.
I’d be going to Miami if we won twice in North Carolina. Was Keaton just coincidentally correct about Miami? And why didn’t he imply we’d be hooking up in NC instead of Miami if he knew we’d both be there at the same time? Why the teasing?
“Miss Papas?” a lilting voice asked. I looked up and saw a gorgeous flight attendant, pristine in her skirt and neckerchief, not a hair out of place.
I raised my hand. “Present.” While most people couldn’t pronounce my last name, very few actually truncated it the way my teammates did.
The woman waved a long, thin piece of paper in front of my face. “Here is your new seat,” she said and walked away without further discussion.
“Are they moving us?” Reese asked from the row behind me, peering over the seat to look at my reprinted ticket.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they need someone shorter by the exit,” I joked, considering I was nearly six feet and those weird bulkhead seats always made me scrunch up like an accordion.
“Thea, that says first class,” Donelle said, snatching the ticket out of my hands. “Coach, you playing favorites?” she called across the row. Dunkilson just shook his head.
“Dunks wouldn’t move just one of us,” Reese said. “Does your mom work for the airline or something?”
I shook my head. “She’s a social worker and dad owns a pizza shop.”
“Well you’ve got a fairy godmother, girl,” Nicole replied with a squint. The other players’ faces echoed her jealous expression.
“Now boarding First Class,” someone said over the loudspeaker.
All eyes on me. “Yeah, I know,” I said and got up, leaving my team in the airport lobby as I boarded the plane. Things had happened so fast that I didn’t have time to wonder what was going on. Which made it especially surprising when I rounded the corner into first class and saw whom I’d be sitting next to.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Keaton said, sunglasses obscuring his eyes. He leaned back in his seat and groaned, clearly hungover.
“Rough night?” I asked.
“I’m better now,” he said, lowering the glasses and giving me a once-over. “Get comfy.”
I put my leg up on his seat and his eyes went wide. “I need to stretch before a flight,” I said, not wanting to give him the upper hand ever again. I like how he made me feel. Powerful. In charge. Perhaps it was because he was used to calling the shots and being the big ego. Either way, I loved not following along with his plans. Part of me wanted to reject the seat.
The other part of me remembered I had never flown first class. She won.
“Are all these people with your band?” I asked. There were a few slick executive types who were conferring with the band members I had met briefly. A few roadie-looking fellows, a few burly security guards. That guy Rex that Callie liked so much was sitting next to us. He saluted me.
Keaton nodded. “It takes more than us four to put on a show,” he replied. I finished my right leg, kicked up my left and stretched. He licked his lips and this time I didn’t hide my blush. We were, after all, going to be in Miami soon if we won both games this weekend. And if his premonition were right, I’d have little time to get rid of my remaining shyness.
More passengers boarded and found their seats, and I finally relented and sat down next to Keaton. He smelled like hair gel and spicy cologne. I eased back into the seat and sighed loudly.
“You ever fly first class?” he asked.
“No,” I replied, fully extending my legs and finding they didn’t even touch the seat in front of me. All tall people should automatically fly first class. “But I think I like it.”