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stuff.”
    “I don’t use whips or paddles or floggers. I want to feel your skin heat beneath my hand. I want my fingers to sink into your wetness.”
    He’d started this by telling her he wanted to punish her for what her nephews did. Now he was admitting it was all about the punishment. It was time to let her go, before she figured out that tonight, with her perfect reaction and her magnificent orgasm, it had suddenly become all about her .
    He rose, pulled her with him. She shimmied her skirt down, her eyes slightly bewildered with his abrupt move.
    “Make sure they behave tomorrow,” he warned.
    “Yes, Coach.”
    He sensed there was more on the tip of her tongue, but she bent to retrieve her thong. He was there in a flash, grabbing it before she could.
    “Mine,” he said, one brow raised. He wanted the lingerie wrapped around his cock when he came tonight.
    And after the next time her nephews misbehaved, he wanted her lips wrapped around his cock when he climaxed.
    * * *
    HE’D THROWN HER OUT. SORT OF. LOLA WASN’T QUITE SURE what had happened. One moment she was probing his psyche, the next he’d withdrawn and was showing her the door.
    Except that he’d kept her panties. It meant something when a man kept a woman’s panties, didn’t it? And all those compliments. His sweet words rang in her ears just the way the spanking still burned exquisitely on her skin.
    She was surprised to find it was dark outside. She hadn’t realized how long the whole episode had taken. Her butt tingled as she drove, an incessant reminder. And her body still hummed with sexual satisfaction. Yum . That was the only word for it. She’d heard of bondage and submission and sadomasochism and all that stuff. Nipple clamps and other clamps. She shuddered at the thought. She’d been afraid to mention those devices just in case he decided to use them on her.
    But then he’d tossed her out. If he hadn’t kept her panties, she’d have been worried that he might not demand she come back for another punishment.
    And she wanted to go back. Badly.
    It was crazy. But it had been so good. He’d talked about enjoying his power over her. She’d enjoyed being at his mercy. And those brass balls, good God. They’d made her lose her mind.
    Oh yes, she wanted more. She wanted him to send her to the naughty corner over and over. Who would have thought she would adore being . . . well . . . abused? Especially after the way Mike, her ex-husband, had treated her. Though abuse wasn’t the right term for all the things he’d said to her. He’d just picked. And picked. And picked . Nothing she ever did was right.
    The coach’s house wasn’t far from her condo, and all too soon she was pulling into her carport. With the door open, she checked her hair and face in the mirror. Her lip gloss was gone, her cheeks flushed. She fixed the gloss, smoothed her hair, and made sure there were no telltale signs. Except for the missing panties. Not that the twins would suspect anything about that .
    Music, voices, and the sound of bodies crashing emanated from the condo’s living room as she entered. Charlotte and the twins were obviously watching some sort of action movie.
    The front door opened onto a small tiled entry, the bedroom hallway straight ahead. A louvered sliding door slightly to the left hid the closet where she kept her coats, umbrellas, towels, and linens. The condo was compact but had room for everything if she utilized each square inch efficiently. She padded past the kitchen, into the living room. Ghost was nowhere to be seen, probably hiding under her bed. Harry—well, that could have been William—was sprawled on the carpet, a pillow beneath his head. Charlotte hugged one corner of the couch, and William—yes, that was William—slumped in the other, his feet propped up on a small hassock. Like good boys and girls, they’d all removed their shoes, but the pizza tray sat on the coffee table alongside paper plates soiled with