My breath caught in my throat. Surely he couldn't know I was a virgin.

He continued. "Men were always desperate for her. Who wouldn't want the goddess of battle and knowledge on their side? But they all had the wrong approach, those suitors. Athena, much like the virgin goddess Artemis, loved the hunt. She loved pursuit."

"So, she wanted to be the one calling the shots?" I asked, picking up that soft flogger again and running it through my fingers.

"Precisely," he said, taking my chin in his hand. "Those Greek guys were clueless. Good thing I'm only half-Greek."

"What's your other half?" I asked, wondering at his blue eyes.

"Norse," he said with a shrug. "I suppose my ancestors were all Vikings or other tricky folk."

I shook my head. "You are one curious man, Keaton Lowe."

"You have no idea."

Channeling the inner goddess of the hunt, I pushed Keaton back onto the pillows. His rascal grin reappeared. "And I'm always right."

"And you're so humble," I grunted as I placed my hands on either side of his head. His baby blues shone as he looked into my eyes. The apprehension and nerves had subsided and been replaced with a feeling of certainty.

I was on the hunt.

I leaned forward and brought my mouth to his. Our lips melted together for a moment, and I felt his body stiffen beneath mine. The tight feelings of desire that knotted inside of me took control of my rhythm as I rocked against Keaton's prone form, tonguing his mouth. A soft moan reminiscent of a song escaped from his throat. I kissed his stubbly jaw and then down his sinewy neck.

"That dress is so perfect," he mumbled, eyes half-closed with desire. I sat up straight with my legs on either side of him, still rubbing his hardness with the apex of my legs.

"It's staying on," I said, surprised by my boldness and the rich authoritative quality of my voice.

"Of course, Goddess," he said as I reached for some rope.

I looked between him, the bed, and the restraints and tried to figure out what I wanted to do. "Give me your wrists," I said. I remembered how Scarlett had done it during the Skype session and made my attempt.

He held his muscular, tattooed arms toward me subserviently and nodded. I was about to begin wrapping them together when I noticed a flaw in my plan. "Take your shirt off first," I said. "And fold it."

Keaton sat up, no grin, just the face of someone who was serious about what they were going to do. He really wanted this. Then again, the pressure between my legs told me that already. I ground against him and felt him twitch. With a quick motion, Keaton removed his soft black tee and revealed his chest, with abs that went on and on to a gorgeous V at his hips. Not a hair on his body. I wanted to lick it. I could, I realized. Hell, I would, once he was properly tied up.

He brought his wrists obediently back to me, after carefully folding the shirt, of course, and I began to wrap the rope around them, then between them, effectively binding his hands together in prayer. He had said he was worshiping me, so it was only fitting. I was pleased that I had improved on Scarlett's form.

"Over your head," I said, "and scoot back against the headboard."

He complied quickly.

Finding a shorter skein of rope, I raised his bound wrists and tied them to the slatted headboard of the bed. I watched his chest rise and fall rapidly.

"You are quite good at this," he remarked.

"I don't know how," I said, shrugging, admiring. This was much more than Scarlett had done. The knots were neat and it was actually very beautiful.

"The mind is an amazing thing," he said, looking at me with a dreamy gaze. "It can conjure memories outside its current body."

"Is that really how you know things? Not your psychic great-great-grandma?" I asked with a giggle, picking up the riding crop and running it down his side. He shivered.

"No, it's not how I know. I know because I've been around this stuff for a long time," he said with a purse of his lips and a naughty snicker. "And speaking of long time, I hope you don't mind staying the night. I called your coach and said you were with your mom and uncle."

I brought the crop down on his left nipple. "You called my coach?"

He bit on his lip and groaned. "If making you angry has this effect, I'll call every member of the team tonight. The roster's on the table in the-"

I cracked the crop down again, this time on his hip.

"More, please," he said.

I grabbed the flogger. My fingers had been itching to use it. Since it was soft, I figured I could put a little more weight behind it, so I raised my hand high and lashed it across his chest with a loud thwack.

"Yes, Goddess," he said, eyes rolling back in delight. His body writhed beneath me. I felt myself getting damp and decided it was time to rid him of his leather pants. Scooting back, I undid the button and zipper and was shocked to find he was wearing nothing underneath.

I shimmied the pants off his hips and took a moment to blatantly ogle. He, for once, remained silent. Probably figured any of his quirky little comments would earn him another smack.

I took the flogger and slid its silky tails across his cock. He nearly jumped a mile off the bed. I wrapped my hand around it and brushed the tip with the flogger, this time a tad harder. He groaned loudly and I repeated with another flick. Then, when I noticed I was panting, I took his pants off completely and grabbed another bit of rope.

"You want your quarry fully helpless, don't you Goddess?" he said, half-smile up one cheek.

"Maybe I'll bind your fresh mouth next," I replied. He laughed loudly and I watched his gorgeous abs tighten and ripple as he chuckled. It occurred to me that his band name was appropriate-he was quite a trickster.

The next coil of rope I used to repeat the same pattern on his ankles. I bound them together and then threaded the rope between his legs to secure it.

"That's called a two-column tie," he said. "How much experience did you get at that little play party? Have you done a lot of research, or are you just a natural?"

I didn't know what to say to him. I never did. He was so clever and peculiar and I was just an athletic college kid who had fallen into his life. I didn't know why I was here, or why he wanted me, but I did know that we were both sure about it. I glanced at the little box of foil packets he had left out with the bondage gear.

"Go on," he said in a throaty whisper.

I complied, then slid off my own panties and dropped them to the floor. The sight of him, this powerful rock star, beneath me and tied to the bed, was enough to make me orgasm without even touching him. I sat up on my knees, pulled the dress up to my hips, and settled over him. I dropped the skirts of the gown and they flowed around us like white water.

"Take it slow," he whispered. "It will . . . hurt less."

He did know.

I moved my hips, found him easily, and pushed down. Inch by inch I felt myself slide down him. My head fell back, and I let loose a long moan.

"That's right," he encouraged. He watched me with an awed expression.

I pushed further down and felt some pressure and a bit of a sting, and then a flood of desire. It felt so deep, so warm, our bodies combined. The sensation of fullness surprised me with its strange combination of satisfaction and discomfort.

I laughed. I felt so free, so uninhibited. I began to move faster, sliding nearly off him and then dropping back down with a bounce. He joined me with a throaty yes, and bucked his hips.

I pushed my hair back from my face and rocked back and forth, watching his hands wiggle in the ropes and his face with a tortured but delighted expression. "Take me, Goddess. You've caught me, now enjoy the spoils of your hunt."

I reached back and unzipped the dress, wanting to be naked and wild and free. I pulled the diaphanous material over my head and threw it to the ground. Keaton watched me, fully liberated, grinding against him, loud and untamed. The smell of salt from the ocean outside filled my head and the feel of his body consumed me. The new sensations took me by surprise and I reveled in the completeness and abandon. Keaton's eyes flashed at me from across the bed as I cried out in pleasure, consciousness slipping from my body.

Then all I knew was turquoise water and sky and a gentle rocking motion.

"Athena," I heard him whisper.

Waves. Wind.

"Goddess."

I found my body again and stretched. Satin against my skin. I opened my eyes and saw Keaton lying next to me. The blue-green sheets were pulled up over us and he held me in his arms. "There you are."

I looked around the room. The sky outside was lavender. "Did I sleep?"

He chuckled. "Like a baby."

"So I woke up every hour crying?"

He laughed.

I frowned and sat up, looking at Keaton. He was naked, as I was, but his body was no longer tied up. "How did you get out?" I asked. The kinky tools were neatly placed on the nightstand.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked with a devilish flick of a pierced eyebrow.

I sunk back down into the pillows. "Same way you know things, right?"

He tapped my forehead. "Smart girl." He kissed my cheek. "Beautiful, brave girl."

I snuggled into his embrace and sighed. I may not understand any of this, but I didn't care. Keaton's hand slipped between my legs.

"May I pleasure my Mistress?" he asked.

I groaned with both pleasure and mild frustration. "I hope you mean Mistress as in a Domme thing and not implying that you're married."

I felt a gentle push and some tingly pressure. "There's only one thing around my ring finger right now, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Good," I whispered.

"Look at you with the lingo," he said, nuzzling my neck as his fingers pleasured me. "I take it your lessons with your mentor have been going well?"

I sat up straight and grabbed his chin in my hand. "Your mouth would be put to better use elsewhere," I said, guiding his face to my naked breast.

"Yes, my Mistress, my goddess," he uttered as he snaked his tongue to my nipple. Again, the pleasure took my mind away to a faraway place. His blue eyes held mine and as I came, I fought to stay conscious, pleasure taking hold deeply inside me the way it did before. Last night was so overwhelming, and the way he made me feel felt fresh and thrilling.

Keaton pulled his hand back and took me into his arms. I felt his erection pressed tight against my stomach and, although I didn't think it was possible, started to become aroused again.

"Is there anything you want more than the championship?" he asked, suddenly snapping me out of my luxurious sensual fantasy and back into the world of dorms and hoops and uniforms that decidedly did not feel like satin on my skin.

"Nope," I said into the pillow, frustrated. He nudged his hand under my face and our eyes met.

"I can offer you something else," he said, bringing his face closer to mine and touching my chin with his fingertip.

"Go on," I said, relaxing in the intimacy of his touch. Confident, in control, and pleasured beyond belief. Whatever he was offering, I'd probably take it.

"The band is touring Europe this summer. I want you to come with me."

I stiffened. "What?"

He stroked my bare shoulder and gave it a kiss. I felt the sizzle of his lips on my body, but my mind was numb from his question. Keaton continued unfettered by my shock. "This was the thing I wanted you to be open-minded about, remember? So think about it honestly and don't worry about logistics."

I frowned, completely stunned.

"Please come with me, Goddess. There are shows in Athens. I'd like to take you to your ancestral home. Think about how much fun we could have," he said, using his rascal grin once again to disarm me. It worked for small things, but this? This was decidedly something. Something big. He wanted me to go on tour with him for goodness' sake!

I shook my head. "I can't. I need to work this summer, and practice, and . . ."

"I'll give you whatever money you'd earn at a job. You can use the gyms at the hotels we stay at. Hell, I'll hire you a personal trainer. You belong on Olympus, not behind a restaurant counter, and you know that."

My head fell back and I gazed at the ceiling with tears in my eyes. I didn't know if they were sad tears, happy tears, or just overwhelmed, but I knew there was no easy answer. I talked despite not knowing what the hell I'd say. "Listen, what we have is . . . fun. Weird. Different. And I like it. I just-"

"Just what?"

I inhaled and exhaled, weighing my words. "How do I explain this? To my parents? To friends? I'm supposed to tell them that the Heartbreaker of the Century is whisking me away on a world tour and they're supposed to be fine with that?"

He leaned in close and planted a soft kiss on my lips. "So you know about my little nickname," he said quietly. "Thought you'd say something by now."

"You didn't answer my question. How do I tell my very traditional parents?"

Keaton snickered. "Tell them you've had a religious experience. You're going on a mission."

I pushed him playfully.

"I'm serious!" he retorted. "Okay, not missionary. I mean, that's far too vanilla for you. Tell them you're going to see Zeus."

Gaping at his ignorance, I snapped back, "You must be only half Greek if you think we still worship Zeus."

He rolled his eyes. "I told you, I'm half Norse! We were a bunch of lunks who just plundered and slaughtered."

I rolled on top of him and gave him a long, lusty kiss. It was the only way I knew how to respond. It was the one thing I knew. He had just given me the validation I wanted-that he wanted to be with me exclusively. That we weren't just a sexy fling. He wanted me to go on tour with him and everyone he knew. He wanted to spend every day with me all summer. Be seen out with me. This was real.

He pulled away with sweet reluctance. "My tour's going to be very busy the next two months," he said, a serious tone taking over his playful nature. "I won't see you again until school's out. So it's only logical that I'd want you to come on tour with me afterward."

I kissed him again, wanting to push out thoughts of not seeing him and just have my wicked way with his hard body.

"Goddess, stop delaying," he joked. "Please, say yes," he said, and I wasn't sure if he meant he wanted to fuck again or he wanted to take me on tour.

"Maybe," I answered, "if you're lucky."

WHAT GREETED ME BACK AT the team's hotel was decidedly a downer compared to the rest of the day. Coach Dunks was standing outside the lobby doors, hands shoved in his pockets, glaring right at me.

"How's your mom?" he asked with a stony frown.