How to Punish Your Playboy (DommeNation #3) (22 page)
Read How to Punish Your Playboy (DommeNation #3) Online
Authors: Mina Vaughn
Aston nodded. “For now. I need to learn some things—he is completely correct, I need to earn my stars, if you know what I mean. It’s an amazing restaurant, and while the pay isn’t great, I’ve been thinking about something else that may work, but it’s going to take some time and a whole lot of effort.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked.
Aston nodded. “It, like everything else in my new life, is inspired completely by you.”
ONE YEAR LATER
“Order up!” Aston shouted over the din of the lunchtime crowd. They all stood at the counter, waving their money. I wiped my forehead and took the cash from someone and placed another order.
Everyone in Las Vegas loved Mistress Nika’s Burger Joint.
Aston and I had pooled our money for a vintage food truck—a dumpy rust bucket—and I restored it when I wasn’t modeling or doing conference calls with the garage back home, which was doing well under its new manager. I fielded questions here and there, but for the most part, Gary had it under control.
“One chicken marsala burger,” I said, handing the ravenous customer his dish. I licked my lips. No matter how many times I’d tasted our food, it still made my mouth water. This burger had sautéed mushrooms and onions in a sweet wine sauce, plopped on top of a ground chicken patty with melted Asiago cheese. The bun was a soft, fluffy rosemary focaccia.
Aston’s phone sat on the counter next to the fig preserves and buzzed frantically. I picked it up with a smile. “Hi Ma,” I said, propping the phone up with my shoulder and using the other to spread some marsala sauce. “Yeah, he’s got time for you. Oh stop.”
Aston glanced over at me.
“It’s your mom!” I shouted. Aston smiled and pulled the phone from my shoulder.
“Ciao, Mama,” he said with affection in his voice.
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I was so glad Aston and his family had made up. Once we were settled in Vegas, he invited them out to visit. On my suggestion of course. He prepared them a meal from the restaurant where he was working as a sous-chef and I sat with them and talked about what we were doing out here, how proud Aston had been and how proud I was of him.
By the time he sat down, they were primed. He straightened his posture, looked them squarely in the eyes, and told them he was building a life out here. As proud parents are wont to do, they gushed endlessly and forgave Aston for his past indiscretions. Partially because I set him up for success, but Aston had learned enough from his time as a sub to knock it out of the park.
And he did so with the food truck we bought later that year.
I took another bill from another customer. “One meatball burger, a veal Parm double stack, and a side of polenta fries,” this one said. I handed the order off to a burger technician and planted a kiss on Aston’s cheek as he chatted hurriedly with his mother. I grabbed a polenta fry and teased his lips, then stuck it in my mouth.
I never thought when I mentioned fancy burgers that Aston had thought it was a brilliant idea, but he had. And he created an entire menu of Italian favorites turned into upscale hamburgers.
I looked in the mirror. I had some marinara on my forehead. Wiping it off with a napkin, I approached Aston and gave him a kiss. “Gotta mingle with the customers,” I said.
He beamed. “Do your thing, Gorgeous.”
I swatted him on the butt and exited the food truck, where dozens of cameras were ready to snap my picture. Catchy rockabilly music blared through the speakers and our happy customers bopped to the tunes.
In addition to burgers, people loved coming to Mistress Nika’s for the photo ops. I took pictures with everyone from tourists to townies, and sometimes car enthusiasts from the area would come down with their rides to show me. Sometimes they wanted advice, other times just a friendly pair of eyes on their pride and joy. I knew how that was. Johnny was always proudly parked next to Mistress Nika’s, although we kept him roped off. Nobody touched my baby.
And trust me—at night, I had my other baby roped as well.
Aston was good enough to allow me to stock one of the locked cabinets in the food truck with supplies of another sort. Spatulas that wouldn’t see a burger, and twine that wasn’t used to tie up a roast. Cooks’ tools were as fun as any for a little kink.
Once the crowd had cleared, the line cook had dispersed, and the last few pictures of Johnny had been taken, I took the liberty of unlocking my cabinet. My eyes lit up when I noticed a little gift from Aston, wrapped with a bow. It was a ravioli cutter, but he knew I’d use it like a Wartenberg wheel.
Aston slipped his arms around me and planted a kiss on my neck. “You’re becoming such an amazing cook, I had to buy you more tools of the trade.”
I grinned, spun, and leaned into his embrace. Aston took the encouragement and pushed me up on the counter. I felt the tingle of arousal build inside me.
“Careful!” I lectured playfully, twisting my fingers into his hair. “You almost dunked my bum in the mustard!” I glanced beside me at the tray of condiments.
He picked up some garnishes. “Lettuce do it,” he said, taking a raunchy bite of iceberg.
I guffawed at the awful pun. “Only if I can toast your buns,” I said, grabbing some bread and smacking it against his ass. He snickered and ground into me. I unbuttoned his fly.
He swirled his finger in the mayonnaise. “Mistress, mayo I pleasure you right now?” he asked, smirk overtaking his face.
I bit my lip and pulled him closer. “I think it’s time to ketchup.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MINA VAUGHN
is an international woman of mystery and a shoe whore with a heart of gold. When she’s not writing her unique brand of silly smut, she’s plundering Sephora for any pin-up girl makeup she can find.
How to Punish Your Playboy
is her third book in a series featuring dominant heroines.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR:
authors.simonandschuster.com/Mina-Vaughn
MEET THE AUTHORS, WATCH VIDEOS AND MORE AT
ALSO BY MINA VAUGHN
How to Discipline Your Vampire
How to Reprimand Your Rock Star
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Mina Vaughn
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First Pocket Star Books ebook edition April 2015
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