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

pulling the curlers out one by one, letting the messy ringlets fall. “Give me five minutes, I—wait, shouldn’t you be in California right now?”
    He moved closer to me and placed his hands on my forearms. “I’d be happy to give you five minutes, but if this is about your hair, I kind of like it.”
    “Mistress asked you a question,” I deflected, still stunned by his appearance here. “You should be in California. Explain.” I suavely ran my fingers through my hair, realized I had probably just given myself motor-oil lowlights, and cringed.
    “I didn’t want to go.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “After that display last night, I’m pretty stunned you’d just say no to your granny.” I didn’t mind shaming him about that—it was weak and he needed strengthening.
    “She wasn’t happy,” he laughed. “And neither was my dad. Oh well. They’ll have to deal. I’m branching out.”
    I narrowed my eyes. “Oh well? So are you out of the business?”
    Aston shrugged, muscular shoulders flexing beneath his soft tee. “You showed me that I didn’t need them. I could do better than what they had to offer. I told you, I trust you, and when you said I was worth more, I believed that.”
    I smiled and rolled my eyes. “Look, you don’t need to be any cockier than you already are,” I began, placing my hand on his tight chest, “but you’re right. I’m glad you stood up to them.”
    He grinned. “I’m glad you approve.”
    Kneading my fingers into the fabric of his shirt, I pulled him closer. “So what now?”
    “Dunno,” he said, voice barely a whisper as our bodies inched closer. “I figured maybe we could continue my training.”
    My body caught fire at the suggestion, feeling a deep pull toward him from inside me. But no, he made the suggestion, and therefore was calling the shots. “I don’t know,” I answered breathily. “You stood me up last night. I had to take a cab home. Not exactly behavior befitting a submissive.”
    His eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I’d make it up—”
    “Punishment comes before training, Dirty Playboy. On your knees.”
    Without a word, Aston dropped to the ground.
    I raked my hands through his messy bangs and gently yanked back, turning his face toward me. His expression was rapt. “How did you know to come here?”
    He patted his back pocket. “Deed to the car listed this as your place of employment.”
    I stroked his jaw, leaving a smudge of grease, marking him. “Why did you disobey your family?”
    He rolled his eyes. “I told you, because I could do better.”
    I slapped him across the face. He looked stunned, but not upset. He waited patiently for my explanation.
    “First of all, family is important, and while they treated you like shit, there’s no replacing them. When you leave here today, you make amends. Don’t crawl, grovel, or go back to working for them, but the fuck my family attitude doesn’t fly with me. I don’t have family—you’d do well to be grateful.”
    He nodded.
    “Secondly, you didn’t address me as Mistress.”
    “I’m sorry, Mistress.”
    “And thirdly, you need to be more respectful to me.”
    He nodded.
    I lowered myself to my knees, level with him. “I’m proud of you asserting your independence, but you’re still a spoiled brat.”
    He nodded. “Yes, Mistress, although I’m fairly certain you like my cockiness. And you like that I need punishing.”
    Swallowing hard, I nodded and tried to keep his hazel eyes from hypnotizing me. “All true,” I said. “You are a wayward, naughty thing.”
    “I am,” he whispered, eyes begging me, pleading.
    I swallowed hard, wanting him so badly, but a nagging feeling caught in the back of my throat told me to slow down. “I’m going to Vegas soon. I may stay there.”
    His eyes, once pleading, suddenly blazed with emotion. “What?”
    “What, Mistress,” I corrected.
    He nodded. “You’re moving?”
    “Maybe,” I said, backing