How to Reprimand Your Rock Star (DommeNation #2)

by Mina Vaughn

  “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.

  After taking Keaton’s ropes off, I rubbed some scented oil on his skin, since Scarlett had recently taught me about aftercare. I wasn’t going to tell him I had practiced aftercare on Nico’s ass at the play party. But hey, I could have done worse than just spanking him. But I didn’t want to. Of course not, I had a rock god who was all mine.

  He patted the bed and beckoned me beside him.

  “Cuddle me,” I demanded and he swept me, giggling, into his embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Keaton nuzzled my neck. “Like I could keep away from you any longer.”

  I kissed up and down his ear, tonguing the rings as I went. “You’d see me in two months, but yes, waiting any longer would have been torture.”

  He rolled me over and hovered over me. “Two months, meaning you’d be coming on tour?” His mischievous grin was wide and white. “Really?”

  I shrugged. “Possibly. I’m not saying no.”

  “Ha!” he laughed, squeezing me. “I will show you the time of your life, Goddess. Mark my words, I will make it unforgettable.”

  I smiled fondly. “Everything about you is unforgettable.”

  His eyes searched the room. “I’ll call my assistant to get started on your accommodations, flights, passport verification. I mean, just for you to have, in case you do me the pleasure of saying a definite yes. You do have a passport, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “Outstanding.”

  Finally letting myself feel the excitement and give in, I clung to him. “I suppose it would be a whole lot of fun.” I bit his shoulder and he laughed.

  “I’m going to give you the world, oh Fierce One.”

  I kissed his soft lips, melting. “So, what now?”

  He sat up and fingered my curls. “I’m all yours until Saturday.”

  My eyes widened. “Saturday? It’s only Thursday.”

  “My next show is Saturday night. I’ll be with you until that morning. So, think your twin bed can accommodate the two of us or shall I rent a swanky hotel room? I do sort of like the idea of holing up with you and not leaving for days on end. We’ll just pay off that roommate of yours if you like.”

  I felt totally and completely taken aback. I was going home tomorrow, but what was I supposed to do now? What would my parents say? Should I just stash him in a hotel room and tell my parents I was staying and disappoint them?

  But they missed me. And I was considering going to Europe with him, and I certainly hadn’t broached the subject with Mom and Dad yet. I don’t know what they’d say. And, if I did go, this would be the last time I’d see them for months. I couldn’t skip out on them if I was planning on skipping out on them this summer.

  Gah, this man. Kept my panties in a twist, my heart in my stomach, and my stomach in knots. Just how I liked it.

  “I hope that deer-in-the-headlights look is excitement and not horror, dearest.”

  Willing my mouth to work, I squeaked out a reply. “Won’t you get, like, mauled if you go to campus with me? I mean, the dark glasses and paint worked at the black-light party, but . . .”

  He grinned evilly. “What, Goddess, you aren’t up to the challenge?”

  “No . . . I—”

  “You don’t want to protect me from throngs of obsessed fans?”

  “I—”

  “It’s fine,” he said, holding up his hands. “I’ll just drive back—”

  I tackled him back to the bed roughly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  I strapped him spread-eagle to the bed and peppered him with kisses. “You.” Kiss. “Are.” Kiss. “My.” Kiss. “Rock star.”

  “All yours,” he moaned.

  “And I’ll sneak you into my dorm. After I’m done with you again.”

  Again, the rascal grin.

  I crawled on top of him, continuing my parade of kisses and wiggled up against him.

  “Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have tied you so tight,” I whined. “I kind of want your arms around me when I fuck you.”

  Within a second, his hands had slunk out of the knots and were wrapped tightly about my waist. “Like this,” he whispered.

  Busted.

  I sat up with a pout. “You just stay still to keep me happy?”

  He shrugged. “No. Not unless you tell me to, like just now.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m good at the rope stuff,” I said, a bit dejected. “Could you get out regardless of how well I tied the knots?”

  “Honestly, Goddess, you do a fantastic job ninety-nine percent of the time. Then again, sometimes I’m a slippery bastard.”

  I cocked an eyebrow and lowered myself on him again. “Oh, I’ll show you slippery.”

  SCARLETT USHERED US OFF INTO the night with hushed words, a few kisses, and the promise of some fun after I came back from spring break. She also gave Keaton an Indiana Jones–style hat that she kept in her costume room.

  It helped disguise him. Sorta.

  Keaton was just, I don’t know, Keaton. Even if people didn’t actually know him, his magnetism was positively undeniable. The way he walked, his swagger, simply invited you to watch his hips and imagine them at work. The confident way he squared his shoulders could make even the straightest of men question their entire sexual identity.

  There weren’t many people on campu
s, but those we walked by seemed to be drawn to him, staring. Even in the dark. Even anonymous.

  “Dumb it down,” I whispered as we marched arm in arm across a darkened campus. He pulled the brim of his hat low over his eyes and I wanted to have crazy Temple of Doom sex. Indy and that whip . . .

  “Pardon?”

  I brought his ear to my mouth. “You’re too sexy. Walk with a limp or something. You’re going to get us caught.”

  He started to shuffle oddly. “Not like you have a load in your pants, jeez,” I groaned. His amble became slightly more normal. He slouched a bit too.

  “Better.”

  “See? I can be normal.”

  “Oh no,” I replied, waggling my finger, “you’ll never, ever be normal, my Baby Blue.”

  He stopped. “Wow.”

  “What?”

  He scratched his head. “I just love hearing you call me yours.”

  “Is that okay?”

  He nodded. “Felt good. Like this is real. Every night as I fall asleep, I get an awful pang in my gut and wonder if I’d wake up and find I was just dreaming.”

  Slipping my fingers out of his hand and up his arms, I pulled him into a hug. “That makes me feel better somehow. It’s hard for me to imagine a guy like you being hung up on one girl, you know.”

  He rested his chin in the crook of my neck. “I dream of you every night, Goddess. I know you think I’m a bit of a cad, and I was. There’s just something about you I can’t shake, something that makes me want only you.”

  “It’s mutual,” I confessed. Oh, there go those fuzzy feelings again. My heart felt like it was unfolding like some young rose. Now I was coming up with cliché similes, great. Thanks, Keaton. But his words did more than reciprocate my feelings; they emboldened me to pull the trigger and just tell him where I was headed for the next two days. “I have something to tell you. I’m going home tomorrow.”

  “Then I want to come with you.”

  I blinked. “Really? I am considering just telling them I have work to do and staying in our little shoebox of a dorm room.”