Free How to Punish Your Playboy (DommeNation #3) by Mina Vaughn

naughty in a week, but this temptation was just too much. I could see melted cheese, for crying out loud! How dare she tempt me this way.
    “I’m all set, Sarah. I actually had a really weird night and I think I’ll go for a run since I’m up,” I said, hoping to deflect her with some fitness.
    She squinted at me. “Not until you tell me what happened,” she said, taking a bite. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and I watched the foodgasm with jealousy.
    I slid off the bed and stood. “No, I’m going to go. I’ll tell you when I get back.”
    Sarah stared, stunned. “What happened to you?”
    I shrugged. “Nothing, or everything. I don’t know. When I’m done with my run, you’ll get all the dirty details.”
    I didn’t even turn around to see her expression, I just grabbed my gym bag and walked out. As I plodded down the stairs, I finally allowed myself a fist pump of victory. I could do this! I could assert myself and branch out on my own.
    Alone. For now. But still, progress.
    I tried to push thoughts of Aston from my mind, but those unfathomable eyes and full lips haunted me. Before I exited the lobby of our apartment building, I took out my key and checked my mailbox. I typically never checked it because I paid all my bills online and nobody ever used snail mail anymore. But the box was bursting, so I figured I may as well clean it out considering I was in the process of cleaning the junk out of my life as a whole. The usual spam was there—coupons, flyers, and such—but a hot-pink envelope with my name in a fancy scrawl left me scratching my head. It was postmarked Las Vegas.
    Using the nail of my long pointer finger, I slit open the envelope and pulled out a stiff, shiny card. There was some paperwork included as well, but I saved that to read later.
    Dear Miss Kane,
    Congratulations! You’ve been selected to participate in this year’s Miss Pinup Las Vegas pageant. Your success in the pinup modeling industry has not gone unnoticed, and we hope you can join us next month for the big show. Enclosed please find registration forms and the requisite information.
    Sincerely,
    Aaron Brewer
    President of Miss Pinup Las Vegas
    I stared at the card in disbelief. I’d heard of this contest for years, but had never entered. And to think that I’d been nominated somehow, that someone had seen my picture and thought I would be a contender? My amazement continued for another minute before I realized this was it.
    My ticket out.
    I had money, but wasn’t sure where to spend it. I had freedom, but didn’t know what to do with it. I flipped through the paperwork, eyes glazed with the haze of excitement. The grand prize was cash, a sponsorship with the Viva Las Vegas nightclub, and a modeling contract.
    Could I really do this? Abandon my life here for parts unknown, a wild adventure?
    And could I do it on my own?
    There were two paths in front of me—one where I took the Cosmo shoot and stayed local in my familiar world, waiting a month until Aston came back, and then what? Or two, I could throw caution to the wind and head to Vegas for this contest. As much as I loved my garage, it could run without me.
    These are the thoughts that plagued me as I ran on one of Power Gym’s treadmills. I kept it on the interval setting—having the grading and the speed change on me kept me on my toes and prevented serious thoughts about Aston from flooding my mind. My body tingled at the very thought of him. When I hopped off the machine, my legs wobbled from overuse and they felt like they did after my orgasm yesterday—invigorated, thrumming with power, but weak-kneed. And when I showered, feeling the hot water cascade down my body, I was reminded of his hot kisses on my skin and the way they seared. My forehead fell forward onto the cool tile wall as I let out a sob.
    But I couldn’t give in to it—I couldn’t.
    I had big things ahead of me.
    If I had the guts to do them.
    When I got back to my car, I picked up the card