by Cat Mason
PUNISHING
Me
Shaft on Tour Book Six
By: Cat Mason
Shaft on Tour:
Escaping Me
Facing Me
Chasing Me
Shafting the Halls (A Holiday Short)
Fighting Me
All Rights Reserved. This work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, photographic) in part or whole without expressed written consent from Amy Cox a.k.a. Cat Mason.
This is a work of Fiction. All characters, organizations, brands, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons living or deceased is completely coincidental.
Copyright © Cat Mason Books 2016
First Publication: April 2016
Cover Image and Design By: Indievention Designs
Editing By: Asli Fratarcangeli
Prologue
Flower Pluckin’ and Heartbreak
Ireland
My entire life, up to this point, I have spent fantasizing how this moment would play out. I planned to fall in love, just like in the movies I watch, to fill the empty hours. Every touch and every kiss would all be as perfect as it always is on the big screen. I knew the moment I met Dominick, at the community center where I volunteered, that he was different from the boys at my school. He was interested in me for more than just to copy my answers on a quiz and he made my heart beat faster simply by saying my name. He was sweet.
Daily, he has gone out of his way to leave little notes under the wiper blade on my car so I knew he was thinking about me. Every stolen kiss, late night phone call, and secret moment over the last several weeks has led to this and I couldn’t be happier. It is something out of one of my romance novels come to life.
The tips of his fingers are calloused. The sensation, as they run over my body, causes me to shiver as he slides between my parted thighs. Everything about him feels so good; I never want him to stop touching me. Settling himself above me, he stares down into my eyes. “You ready?” he asks, flipping his shaggy, red hair out of his eyes.
Licking my lips, I nod. Lowering his body onto mine, he pushes the tip of his erection just inside my entrance. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for the bite of pain I know is coming. This is it. Oh shit, this is really happening. When I expect to become overwhelmed by the weight of him, my body welcomes the pressure. “Do it, Dominick,” I whisper, forcing out the words that I know he is waiting to hear from me.
The pressure stings, tears burn behind my eyelids, and my entire body tenses, causing Dominick to freeze. “Damn, you’re killing me.” Reaching up with one hand, he brushes the hair from my face, the tender gesture makes me open my eyes. “Relax for me,” he says before brushing his mouth over mine. “I’m gonna make you feel good too, baby.”
I knew losing my virginity would hurt like a bitch. I have heard some of the girls at school talk about how important it is to ‘get it over with’, but the idea of it being something on a to-do list was unsettling. I couldn’t see myself giving something you carry around with you your entire life, and can never get back, away to just anyone. I figured I, at least, needed to like the person before asking him to ‘pluck my virginal flower’, as my mom referred to it.
It took everything in me, during the fifteen minute talk she penciled in with me when I was twelve, not to laugh my ass off at how serious and proper she was attempting to be when I was anything but. Instead of scolding me when I giggled and told her what the kids at school said, she nodded, handed me some pamphlets, and left me to study them like there would be a pop quiz over breakfast in the morning. Not that she didn’t care; she was busy. When you’re busy trying to effectively run a clinical trial that could possibly lead to a cure for Cancer, that tends to take priority.
Cupping my breast, Dominick brushes my nipple with his thumb. I moan, loving the feel of his hands on me. I focus on what he is doing to me, determined to enjoy our first time as much as possible and lock away every detail in my memory. When his mouth leaves mine and he sucks my other nipple into his mouth, my back arches off the carpet and my fingers go into his hair, holding him to me.
“Mmmm, Dominick,” I moan, causing him to smile against my skin.
“Can I move now, Ireland?” he asks, his warm breath tickling my skin before he circles my nipple with his tongue.
"Yes," I breathe, sucking in a shaky breath
Slowly, he pulls back and I almost lose him completely before he thrusts back into me with a grunt. Burying his face in my neck, he breathes heavily as he moves inside me, over and over. The movements of his body feel disconnected and almost robotic. The initial pain I felt begins to dull a little and I wait for it to feel good.
“Oh shit,” he hisses, gripping my forearms as he thrusts deep inside me. Then he stops. Dominick’s entire body stills. I freeze, terrified that I have done something wrong and ruined everything. Or that he broke his dick and I’ll have to explain the ambulance to my parents… This can’t be right. “That’s the stuff. Oh yeah,” he moans before sitting back on his heels.
Glancing around the room, his eyes widen when he spots the clock hanging on the wall. “What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, staring up at him, unsure of what the hell just happened.
Stunning me completely, he stands to his feet and quickly removes the condom. I watch, frozen, as he tosses it to the small waste basket beside my desk and shoves his, still semi-erect, apparently not broken, dick back into his jeans. “That was great, thanks. I’ll see ya around, yeah, beautiful?”
What?
No. No. No. No. No.
Sitting up, I wrap my arms around my knees and hug them to my chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my naked body. “You’re leaving?” I ask, staring at him in confusion.
“Well, yeah. Did you expect me to...” Dominick’s blue eyes widen, his brows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “Oh wait, you thought…” Holding up both his hands, he takes a step back. “Did you think that we…” he huffs out an uncomfortable laugh. “Look, Ireland, you’re great, really, but I thought we were just having fun here. My community service is over after today, and so are we. Nothing personal, but this is all I was interested in. You get it, right?”
“I’m sorry,” I sniffle, pushing back the tears I don’t want to fall in front of him. “I just, I thought you and me, you know?” Grabbing his shirt, he yanks it on over his head before meeting my eyes again and I shake my head. “I guess I thought all of this was about more than just sex. I expected my first time to be… different… that’s all. To mean something…”
Something flashes in his eyes, but just as quick it’s gone, masked behind a hard, unreadable expression that is nothing but frigid. Leaning down, he brushes a stray tear from my cheek. His fingers on my skin repulse me now, when moments ago, I was begging for his touch. I recoil as if I’ve been struck, causing him to chuckle. “Aw, don’t be upset, beautiful. This is how the real world works sometimes. It’s better if you learn to roll with it now.”
“I suppose next you’ll be informing me that I should be thanking you?” I snap numbly as I grab the throw cover from the chair beside me and cover myself. “Right, Nicky?” I ask, using the nickname his mother gave him, that he hates with a passion, knowing it will piss him off.
“Who needs gratitude when you can have self-gratification?” he asks, turning and heading for the stairs. “Just use this to write one of those sappy love songs or whatever.”
His snide comment is followed by laughter that cuts through me like a knife, causing me to clench my hands into fists. The moment the door closes, and I know he is gone, I bury my face in my bla
nket covered knees. My anger and hurt merge into one explosive, indescribable emotion. Tears spill down my face as I replay the whole thing in my head, regret clawing at my throat with every breath.
How could I have been so naïve? I trusted him. I told him things I never told anyone and even showed him the lyrics and poems I keep locked away in my journal.
I thought he cared about me, that he understood me, because no one else ever has. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He simply saw an opportunity and used what he learned about me to get what he wanted. I was played. Everything he said and did was nothing but a way for him to get me to let my guard down enough to take what he wanted.
This is one of those moments the movies and books won’t be telling you about. They don’t tell you about the sharp stings of rejection and betrayal after you have laid your heart bare to someone who only pretended to care about you to get in your pants. Another thing they don’t mention is that, just like your first kiss and first love, you’ll never forget your first heartbreak.
The worst part is all the feelings of falling in love with someone blinds you from all the flashing warning signs. It’s easy to feel safe while riding on that euphoric cloud nine. I wanted to believe this love I felt for him was going to fix everything. That just giving my heart to someone else is the key to making everything in life perfect. So while I was busy enjoying the feeling of flying high on the chemical imbalance mother nature and her whores cooked up to fuck with my rational thinking, I never saw the crash coming until it ripped me open and has now left me bleeding as he walks away without a scratch.
“What a damn joke,” I mutter, forcing myself to get a grip.
Angrily, I brush away the tears and grab my black journal off the coffee table. Flipping through the pages of romantic poems and lyrics I have written, for as long as I can remember, I find myself unable to read them. The feelings that come with them make my chest ache.
Finding a new page, I begin scribbling as fast as my fingers can make the pen move. Pouring everything I am feeling onto the page: the loneliness, the anger. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face as I fill a page with lyrics different from anything I have ever come up with before.
The rage that comes with hating him feels better than succumbing to the ache of betrayal any day. I feed on it like a woman starved. Music and lyrics have always been where I find my escape. Now, it will be where I find my solace and strength.
When I finally close the book and lean back against the side of the chair, I look into the mirror on the opposite wall. Staring at my tear stained reflection, I make a vow to myself. One day, I will play this song in front of thousands of screaming fans. I’ll even thank the bastard for the reality check when I accept my Grammy and leave him with his regret.
Chapter One
Cock Jockey
Ireland
Wam, wam, wam
"Ah! Fuck, yeah."
My back collides with the wall with every thrust of his hips. The mirror slaps against the wall beside us in perfect rhythm with our bodies, teetering dangerously close to falling to the floor. Anyone who walks by knows exactly what is going on in here, but it’s no secret that I don't care what people think of me.
"Harder," I command, digging my fingernails into his shoulders, scraping at his flesh. He grunts, hissing through gritted teeth. Leaning in, I smile before nipping his bottom lip with my teeth. "Fuck me like you mean it."
Every slam into the wall sends a delicious bite of pain spreading through my body. I have no doubt I'll feel the pounding assault his cock is giving me days from now and I wouldn't have it any other way. If it isn’t memorable, it isn’t worth my time.
My orgasm is within reach and I chase it, desperate for the rush, frantic to feel the release that I need before taking the stage tonight.
Knowing that I need the extra boost to fall over the edge, my fingers slip between our bodies and find my clit. His fingers dig into my ass so hard I know it will leave marks. God, yes! The hard, brutal way he handles me has adrenaline pumping through my veins so fast my head is spinning. I tremble and shake; it’s fucking fantastic. My body tightens, only to shatter into the splintering bliss that I crave. Fisting his blonde hair with my free hand, I slam my lips to his, screaming my release into his mouth like a siren. Rolling my hips, I match his thrusts as he chases his own release, wanting to milk the ride for all its worth.
“Ireland,” Jared, my bodyguard, or should I say babysitter, booms, scaring the shit out of me and causing the cock jockey I’m riding to freeze mid pump.
My eyes fly open, taking in Jared’s enormous form as he stands in the opened doorway. I swear he just appears out of thin air without making a sound. Who the hell does that? Seriously, I won’t need protection from some crazy fan, or blood thirsty media hound. Nope, I am going to die from a heart attack because he leapt out of the bushes by the bus and scared me six feet under. “Say goodbye to Austin, it’s time to head up to staging.” Crossing his large arms over his chest, Jared steps further into the room and leans back against the wall, silently letting me know that he isn’t going anywhere.
Forget cockblocker, this asshole’s goal is to keep me totally beaver dammed.
“Okay, okay, Sargent Sourpuss.” Lowering my feet to the ground, I push from Austin’s grasp. “Mmmm, that was fun, but the stage isn’t gonna rock itself,” I say, dismissing him as I head for the tiny bathroom.
“Yeah, so you wanna meet up after we get the gear loaded?” Austin asks, not even caring that Jared is standing just a few feet from him, watching like a hawk. I could totally respect that shit enough for round two if I wasn’t running late. Turning around, I catch Austin just as he yanks on his tight, black t-shirt with “Shaft Road Crew” printed across the front in white letters. “We can pick up where we left off,” he says, waggling his brows suggestively as he buttons and zips his jeans.
“Don’t think so,” I mutter, “but thanks.”
Sure, I may come off sounding a bit cold and callous, but he knew what he was getting into when I brought him back here. I say when, I say where, then I say goodbye. All negotiations are made before the pants drop and the condom wrapper is ripped.
No refunds, no exchanges, and all sexual favors are non-transferable.
His eyes meet mine briefly, hardening before he turns for the door. Pushing by Jared, he disappears from view. “Aiden will be pissed if we’re late again,” Jared says, his face pursing up like he just downed a gallon of lemon juice. “The schedule we go by isn’t a suggestion, you know?”
“We’re fine, you know they’re still eating. Untwist your panties,” I say, slamming the bathroom door behind me.
I take a few moments to make myself presentable while getting in the zone for the show. I pin back my hair so that the brown and purple streaks tumble down my back and won’t be in my way. After taking a second to adjust my red halter, and make sure my safety pin and patch decorated jean skirt is covering my ass, I open the door, instantly met by a scowling Jared. “You know, you should spend less time tryin’ to scare me shitless with those ninja skills and maybe get laid. I bet blowin’ your load down a groupie’s throat would turn that frown upside down,” I say with a laugh, slapping his chest playfully as I walk by him and head up the hallway.
“’Bout time,” Aiden, our drummer and OCD-prone cuckoo clock blurts the second I step into the room, not even bothering to take his eyes from the container of hot wings he is finishing off at the table.
“You know, Jared,” I sigh, shaking my head as I make my way over to the sofa. I take a seat next to Chase who sits talking to her husband, Hunter, the mostly reformed manwhore frontman, and Daisy, who, since we are just a few hours from Nashville, drove up for the show tonight to see her husband Grayson in action on lead guitar. “You can’t tear him away from the groupies.” Looking up at Jared, I wink. Rolling his eyes, he rubs a hand over his nearly bald head and exhales roughly. “Besides, the smell of the flesh you’re eating makes me want to vomit. The on
ly thing worse is Hunter’s bacon.”
“Blasphemous vegetarian! May the bacon gods smite thee with their hot metal tongs and stainless steel skillets!” Hunter shouts, leaping to his feet and pointing at me as if condemning my soul to hell. “This is a no bacon bashing zone. Just because you like to steal food from fuzzy wildlife, instead of eating meat like normal people, doesn’t mean I’m going to fight Thumper and his furry friends for cloves and carrots,” he argues, scrunching up his nose in disgust. “It’s just unhealthy and unnatural.”
“I’m vegan, not vegetarian,” I fire back, flipping him off. Daisy and Chase giggle, making it hard to keep a straight face at his ridiculous outburst. “There’s a difference between the two, Carnivore. Educate yourself. I believe animals deserve to live their lives without fear you’re going to be waiting in the wings with an axe to slaughter them for your breakfast burrito. Oh, and newsflash: I’m not the only person on earth to feel this way. Not everyone makes orgasm noises the second a piece of flesh hits a heated skillet.”
“All lies and propaganda the produce farmers tell you all to sell their plants so they can buy… wait for it… Meat!” he laughs, making me roll my eyes. “I’m not saying you should abandon all your morals and eat meat; I’m simply suggesting you eat bacon.”
“You wanna reel that sermon in a bit, Reverend Porkshire?” Henry, the head of the security team, asks, walking around the sofa and clapping Hunter on the shoulder. “Just agree to disagree with the woman and move on. No one is asking you to sell the hog and start a community garden. Besides, we’ve got a show to do in—”
“Eleven minutes,” Aiden interrupts, putting an end to the debate Hunter and I have been having constantly ever since he found out I live a vegan lifestyle. He can’t wrap his head around the idea that some people just won’t eat bacon and is determined to convert me at all costs. Standing to his feet, Aiden tosses his container into the trash can before wrapping an arm around Camaron, who is busy texting away on her phone.
