Shit. What was this all about?

"Fine," I said, trying to play it cool and avoid him. I tried to walk past him into the lobby but he put his hand on my shoulder. Was I busted? Callie would never rat me out.

He slid his free hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "One of the captains showed me this," he said, illuminating the screen. It was a Facebook feed that read, So proud of my girl! Wish I could have been there.

Double shit. It was my mom's status. Damn parents and their insistence on using technology. My dad still planted his feet firmly in the world of the Luddites, but my mother convinced Anthony to teach her how to use Facebook. Little brothers, the eternal pain in the ass, even from across the country.

"Want to try again?" Coach said, eyes dark and angry.

I blinked and tried to channel my inner Domme. I stood straight, breathed confidence into my voice, and concocted a story. "I'm so sorry I said it was my mom, but you're right. It wasn't. My friend is in town and-"

He put his hand up. "I don't care. You're benched for the next game."

My jaw unhinged. "Benched? During the tournament?!" Anger flared inside me and hot breath shot from my nostrils in bursts.

Coach pointed his finger in my face. "Don't get angry at me, young lady. You're the one who left the team for your friend. You missed our postgame meeting. You selected someone else over your obligation. Now we'll have to do without you. Don't for one second think I'm happy about this, or that this is my fault. You did this to us."

I felt a tingle and a surge of bravery. Was it the Domme in me? I slowed my breathing and tried to remain cool. In control. "I've studied the plays and techniques of our upcoming potential opponents," I said, voice lower and decidedly more authoritative. Goddess-like, Keaton would say. "In fact I could probably recite their playbooks. And did you know Sarah Meitol's left knee is giving her issues again? She's a clutch center."

His face was blank, completely unreadable. I continued.

"And," I said, trying to balance the line between aggressive and respectful, "did you know that in instances where a tournament team had a Rookie of the Year playing point guard, ninety percent of the time that was the team that won the entire tournament?"

His frown deepened. "I . . ."

"Coach, I know I made a decision that seemed like it wasn't best for the team, but believe me when I say I've put in an enormous amount of research into the next round already. I can give you statistics for the entire team if you'd just let me play."

It was something I always did-research my opponents. So far, the team had never listened, but in the last two rounds it really worked. I know my strategies can help, if only Coach would let me.

He held up his hand. "Thea, clearly you're on this team for a reason. You're talented and I can see you have a lot of potential. But this kind of transgression shows blatant disrespect for the team."

"Please, let me make it up to you. I've shown you how much outside work I do for preparation. I can share it with the team."

His frown lightened a moment. I could see in his eyes he really didn't want to bench me. "You're benched for the next game, but if we move on you're back. But consider yourself on probation. You will show up at practice early and will leave late. You hit the gym twice a day to work on strength and agility. You do not leave your room past curfew. You check in with the captains every night at ten PM from your dorm room. You attend zero campus parties. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"And you will do a PowerPoint with all those stats so we can talk about these things with the team. You've done a lot of work and they could really benefit from what you've discovered. But know this Thea, I only give second chances once."

"Coach?" I asked meekly. "I am going to be visiting my family one day this week. Should I text you from there or something? Hit my hometown YMCA and work out there?"

He pondered for a minute. "Fine. But I want that update from the gym. I want you hitting it hard as penance."

I chuckled. "Drop and give me twenty?"

He smiled. "Sort of like that."

"I won't let you down," I said.

He sighed. "I've always wanted someone like you on the team, a freshman with the talents and the brain of a senior. Someone I could mold all four years. Stick with us, Thea. And get your priorities straight."

Keaton had to leave Miami before me, but I wished I could have gone with him instead of sitting on our bench, watching our team win without my help. But we did win, and that meant we'd be moving on to the Final Four, which was going to be played at home.

And I was pushing my body to the limit trying to prove to Coach that I could do penance properly.

A few days of hardcore commitment left my body tired of basketball and in need of something else, I confessed to Scarlett. We had chatted about my night with Keaton and she congratulated me on what sounded like a perfect evening. She and I had talked a lot since I got back from Miami, so it was no surprise when she invited me to her shop around eight PM the day before I left to see my parents at home for the night. I said she couldn't keep me past nine thirty or I'd turn into a pumpkin.

Keaton and I had texted and talked a lot, too. He reminded me time and again about going to Europe, but I delayed my decision, citing my extra-hard schedule. He felt bad that I had got in trouble for our little escapade, but he knew I wouldn't trade it. This was good penance, a good way to keep my head in the game.

I texted him that I missed him and that I was sad I wouldn't see him for two months.

He just texted back a winky. What did that mean?

Scarlett's smile was extra Cheshire tonight when I walked into the back room.

"What?" I asked, smirking at her. "You look suspicious."

She shrugged. "Maybe cause I have a surprise for you." Scarlett reached behind the counter and pulled out a large red box.

"The last time you offered me a surprise, there was a naked classmate inside."

"He wouldn't fit in here," she joked and held the box to her crotch, clearly making a Dick in the Box joke.

I shook my head. "Really, Scarlett, you shouldn't have."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, call it a congrats on making it to the Final Four gift. Or a congrats on being a real Domme gift. Just stop being humble and take it."

The box was tied with a black vinyl bow made from bondage tape, and I chuckled at her creative ways. I mean, she was no Pinterest advocate or anything, but it was pretty fancy and clever. Maybe she should open a store for kinky crafts on Etsy. I opened the lid and pulled out a very revealing outfit. It was like a red leather bikini with a strip of woven rope that connected the two pieces straight down the abdomen. It was really hot, but really, really skimpy.

"Go put it on," she said, shoving me toward one of the dressing rooms.

I grimaced. People could be coming in here-I was fine baring quite a bit at parties like the one at Nathan's, but this was nearly nude. It was scraps, for goodness' sake. I would be very exposed and I wasn't sure how to tell her no.

"Oh, stop being a prude," she said, ushering me forward.

I wracked my brain for a compromise. "I'll try it on, but I won't promise I'll come out," I lectured. "Maybe I'll just flash you." I tripped over my shoe and stumbled past the curtain, bracing myself for bonking my head against the mirror. Instead, arms encircled me.

I looked up into Keaton's eyes.

"Surprise," he whispered, pulling my mouth to his for a long, wet kiss.

"So this is your sub, eh?" Scarlett said, holding the curtain and watching our embrace. "He called me to set up this little get together. You sure know how to pick 'em."

I didn't even blush. "Yup," I said, yanking his head back to me and slipping my tongue into his mouth. I grabbed his ass and ground against him. The two days we spent apart felt like months.

"How about you use one of my rooms?" Scarlett said, grabbing her big key ring and escorting us down the hall to a door I hadn't seen yet. It was black and shiny and studded. "This is the VIP suite," she explained.

"You don't have to do that," Keaton replied, hand up in apology as if he were embarrassed by his fame.

Scarlett clucked. "Thea's the VIP, punk boy," she said, swatting his ass playfully as we passed. "Have fun!"

Oh, you have no idea, I thought to myself as I led Keaton by the hand into the depths of the room. I flicked on the light and my breath caught.

The room was made almost entirely of mirrors. Walls, ceiling, even parts of the floor. In the center of the room was a bed with black silk sheets and a single pillow. Beside the bed were tall black dressers, probably stocked with all the lube and toys the mind could conceive.

I pulled Keaton by his T-shirt's collar. "What are you doing here?" I whispered into his neck, taking a nibble. "You have a show tonight."

He let his head dip back, enjoying my playful bites. "Drummer's sick. Show's postponed," he breathed, pressing his body into mine. "Not to wish him ill, but I hope he pukes his guts out another few days so I can spend the week with you."

I hesitated. I'd be going home tomorrow, not staying around here. "Take off your clothes," I said, changing lanes toward something I know he wouldn't possibly say no to.

Turning away from him, I grabbed my outfit from Scarlett and walked behind a changing screen. I wanted to reveal the skimpy getup, not just strip and lose all sense of excitement. I know it would only be my second time, but I had learned a thing or two. And as everyone says, I was a fast learner.

Although admittedly I did poke my head out from the screen every few seconds to watch him undress. Those abs, those tats. I was going to absolutely wreck him tonight.

I laced up the suit, threw on a pair of pumps Scarlett had kindly left behind the screen, and stepped out. Keaton's expression both brightened and darkened at the same time. A smirk of pleasure, but eyes hungry and desperate. Again, he made me feel powerful just with a look.

"On the bed," I said, voice husky and thick. I wanted him with a painful desire. Nude, he strode to the bed, muscles rippling, piercings winking at me with a silvery glint. I smiled as I watched a hundred of Keaton's reflections walk across the room. So much hotness.

"On your knees," I said, pointing to the center. There were so many things I had fantasized about doing to him, and our one night in Miami wasn't enough. I was so glad we would get this reprieve before the dry spell of his tour.

Keaton raked his hands through his messy hair and complied quickly. I approached him, ropes slung over my arm. He glanced at them and smiled.

"Do you do yoga, Baby Blue?" I asked, hovering over him.

He shook his head no.

"When we're training," I said, stroking his jaw with my pointer, "we do some yoga to keep limber."

His mouth made a little O.

"One of the poses is called camel pose. This would be similar, but not exact. You're almost there," I said, guiding his hands to his heels. "Arch your back." The hundred Keatons in the mirrors arched with him and I decided that if I went on tour, I'd want a room like this, just so I could watch him from every angle.

He bent over backward, leaning on his elbows. I ran my hands down his tight abs, watching him flex and bend. "Lean further back."

His body stretched into a nearly impossible angle. His cock was upright, but his body was leaning intensely. This was going to be fun. "I'm going to tie your wrists to your ankles now.

"Please, Goddess," he moaned, still craning backward. I quickly used the blue rope to tether him tightly, then looked back at my handiwork. I was proud. The time at the play party and my little late-night snippets of research had worked. Sweet.

I was dying to crawl on top of him, but first I wanted to get this on film. I pulled out my iPhone and queued up the camera.

"Smile," I said, testing his devotion.

He didn't even flinch. Here he was, a celebrity, and he was letting me photograph him nude and bound. My heart fluttered and for a moment, I felt more than lust. He trusted me. I put the camera down and slid up to him.

"You look great like this," I said, tracing his stretched muscles with my fingertips. He trembled.

"I would stay like this for weeks if you wanted," he said, voice raspy with need. "Anything for you. Always."

My fingers danced lower, teasing. He shook more.

"Are you uncomfortable?" I asked, worried that the trembling was from effort and not desire.

"Never been better," he replied with a saucy wink.

I mock-frowned. "Did you just wink at your Mistress?"

He grimaced. "I think I did."

Crawling forward, I lectured him. "Then I won't suck your cock like I was planning to."

"I will not wink at my Mistress again unless it is winking with her and not at her."

"Damn straight," I said, mounting Keaton swiftly instead of pleasuring him. I wanted to try that, since we hadn't before. Another time.

"Oh," he gasped, unprepared for my quick and wet assault. I rocked my hips frantically, having missed his body so badly. Regardless of how many times we'd exchanged sexy texts, calls, and even Skype sessions, I needed this. His body, the taste of his sweat, all of it.

"My goddess, you've positively blossomed," Keaton groaned, eyeing me with an expression of awe.

Was my practice that obvious? I didn't screw anyone, I swear!

He began to elaborate, while gently lifting his hips to meet my frantic pulse. "The confidence you're showing, how comfortable you are in that glorious body," he said, licking his lips. "A woman who knows exactly what she wants."

I bounced harder. "Everything I want is right here," I moaned, sliding my hands up his sweat-slick body and flicking his pierced nipple.

"Goddess, I . . ." he trailed, swallowing hard. I knew what he wanted.

"I'm almost there, too," I whispered, "just another minute."

And that was when he began to hum.

That voice, the one that made him a star, began to rumble a low, sexy note. Equal parts arousal, amazement, and pure heavenly chorus. The sound alone pushed me off a cliff and we came together.

God, how I missed him.

After taking Keaton's ropes off, I rubbed some scented oil on his skin, since Scarlett had recently taught me about aftercare. I wasn't going to tell him I had practiced aftercare on Nico's ass at the play party. But hey, I could have done worse than just spanking him. But I didn't want to. Of course not, I had a rock god who was all mine.

He patted the bed and beckoned me beside him.

"Cuddle me," I demanded and he swept me, giggling, into his embrace. "I'm so glad you're here."

Keaton nuzzled my neck. "Like I could keep away from you any longer."

I kissed up and down his ear, tonguing the rings as I went. "You'd see me in two months, but yes, waiting any longer would have been torture."

He rolled me over and hovered over me. "Two months, meaning you'd be coming on tour?" His mischievous grin was wide and white. "Really?"

I shrugged. "Possibly. I'm not saying no."