After the second knock, when there was no answer, she tried the door handle. It was unlocked, and with tentative force, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The office was stark, with a battered desk, computer, and chair, and very little else. It was also empty.

There was another door directly opposite her, and Cat saw light from beneath that one as well. She cleared her throat. “Um?Coach? Coach Lambert? It?s Cat. I?ve brought you back your?.”

Before Cat could finish, the second door opened, and Dylan strode out, wet from the shower she?d just taken, and completely naked save for the towel casually wrapped around her lean hips.

“?.phone?” Cat squeaked as every muscle in her body locked. Except for her heart, which seemed to beat double time. A sudden influx of hormones caused a full, head-to-toe flush to break across her body, and although her brain was sending urgent messages to her eyes, they were?thank you very much?quite content to remain where they were; on Dylan?s magnificent breasts.

Dear God, get a grip! Her brain shouted, trying to urge locked muscles into action. You?ve seen naked women before! Hell, you even showered with a whole group of them not more than a half hour ago!

Yeah, but none of those were Dylan Lambert.

The rest of her body happily agreed with this statement; her eyes most of all as they finally allowed slight movement and traced the tight, banded muscles of Dylan?s belly, then swept up and across impossibly broad shoulders and along a wonderful neck, before coming back down to their favorite targets and remaining there.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for this sinner now and?.oh man?just now, please.

In reality, this entire internal dialogue had taken up less than two seconds, but to Cat, it seemed like an eternity. A very blissful eternity, but an eternity nonetheless.

Dylan didn?t appear to notice the rapt perusal as she smiled a greeting to Cat while walking over to the desk upon which her clothes were stacked.

“I don?t know whether I should thank you or curse you for bringing that back,” Dylan remarked as she picked up a black T that sat on top of the stack. “I haven?t missed the damn thing all weekend.”

The towel dropped away and Cat?s brain turned into hissing white static as the most beautiful posterior she?d ever seen in her life came fully into view.

“You?re awfully quiet this evening,” Dylan remarked, glancing quickly over her shoulder before shaking out her jeans. “Something wrong?”

The words, finally loosed, came in a rush. “Who me? No, nothing?s wrong. Not at all, no. Just came by to drop of your phone. Thanks, by the way.”

Dylan, now fully clothed save for her bare feet, turned and gave Cat a curious look. “For?”

Cat gave an embarrassed laugh. “For, you know, letting me use your phone. I was able to get to my mom before she left for the weekend. So?thanks.”

“You?re welcome,” Dylan replied, reaching for her socks and boots.

Cat found herself at a rare loss for words, but her body was telling her, in no uncertain terms, that it wasn?t about to leave the room just yet. She scratched the back of her neck, trying to order her thoughts. The task was, of course, impossible.

“So,” she finally got out. “Some game, huh?”

Dylan snorted. “Oh yeah. The Rolaids company called and asked me to be their CEO. Seems I made them more money tonight than the rest of the country put together.”

Cat winced. “Sorry.”

Dylan shrugged. “Comes with the territory.”

“Yeah, well, I?d prefer it if we didn?t visit that territory too often, if it?s all the same to you.”

“I can live with that,” Dylan replied, chuckling. Now fully clad, Dylan retrieved the phone Cat had brought and stuffed it into her own duffel, which she then slung over her shoulder. “Everything else going okay with you?”

Cat smiled brightly. “Oh yeah, just fine.” And she meant it, too.

“Good.” Dylan yawned. “Well, I?m ready to hit the bed. How ?bout you?”

“Definitely! Bed sounds great!” She paused, then flushed again. “Mine, I mean. My bed. You know. Sleep?.bed?.” Her voice trailed off miserably as she gave herself a sharp internal kick.

Chuckling, Dylan laid a casual arm around Cat?s shoulders and steered her in the direction of the door. “C?mon, Shortchange. Time to go home.”

Two days later, after a thankful weekend break, the Badgers were back at it, practicing hard to ensure that there would be no more “Pistols problems” as they dubbed the last game. Each put in their best efforts, and when the practice was over, the coaches were well satisfied. Even Caulley, who wouldn?t be satisfied with a Championship trophy.

Disgusted by her forty percent foul shooting during the last game, Cat opted to resume her habitual drills after practice.

Unlike during the game, she sunk her foul shots with ease, so she moved back and tried threes from the perimeter. Those went in easily as well. Layups came next, and those were a bit harder because of her stature. She was always more comfortable shooting from the outside, but also knew that if the opportunity presented itself, she would need to be confident enough to drive to the hoop and take the shot, no matter who stood in her way.

Dylan walked silently into the empty arena, guided by the rhythmic thumping of a basketball. She leaned against the wall and watched for a couple of minutes before strolling further onto the court. Cat caught the ball and turned to face her coach

“Hi,” she gasped, breathing hard and blowing out long, slow breaths to calm her racing pulse.

“Hi yourself,” Dylan replied, gesturing toward the basket. “That was more than foul shooting. You were really working it.”

“Yeah, well I need to get stronger driving into the paint. I don?t do it often, but I can?t be wary when I do.”

“True.” Dylan scratched above her brow. “Your game is good.”

“Not good enough.”

“Well, we can always get better.” Smiling, she swatted the ball out of Cat?s hands and spun it on one finger. “Just don?t be too hard on yourself, ok?”

“Yeah,” Cat chuckled. “Like you?re not.”

“Hey! I?m the coach. It?s my job to be hard on myself.”

“Hmmph.” With a wicked grin, Cat reached out and grabbed the ball back. “Heh. How ?bout a game? The Goddess against the mortal? First to eleven wins? Huh?”

Dylan?s grin was even more wicked. “Sure ya wouldn?t rather play shirts vs. skins?”

Cat actually heard her jaw click as it dropped open and hung there. Normally, she wouldn?t have been so wide-eyed, but the unexpected flirtation, coupled with the vision of last night, conspired together to force the expression onto Cat?s face.

Chuckling, Dylan grabbed the ball from Cat?s stunned hands, turned, and arced the ball through the net. She spun on her player, eyes twinkling. “First rule of immortal combat. Create opportunities and take advantage of them.”

Cat gave a little grunt as the ball impacted lightly with her flat abdomen. She caught it reflexively and blinked. “You gonna flash me now?”

“Would it work?”

Cat?s look said it all, and Dylan laughed. “I?ll keep that in mind for later, then.” She tapped the ball in Cat?s hands. “C?mon. Let?s see what you got.”

What Cat had was a move that went exactly two steps into the paint before she was again summarily stripped of the ball and forced to calculate the angle of the curve made by Dylan?s body as she jammed the ball through the hoop.

“I hate you,” she groaned, receiving the ball back.

“Hey. You challenged me, remember?”

“Okay, then. I hate myself.”

Dylan laughed softly. “C?mon now. Two-zip. Your ball.”

Cat tried. She really did. She tried as hard as she?d ever tried anything in her life. She pulled out every move in the book, invented some on the spot, and none of them worked. Her offense was useless, and her defense was even worse. Of course, they both acknowledged the inherent disparity between a small point guard and a towering forward with the wingspan of a condor, but still, Cat was determined to prove something.

Whether it was to herself or Dylan, she wasn?t sure.

The more she failed, the more frustrated she became, and the more frustrated she got, the sloppier her game became.

Until she remembered her own words of two nights before. How frustration plays right into the hands of an opponent and is something to be avoided at all costs.

Remembering this, she tried to relax, deliberately slowing her movements and running the plays through her head instead of relying on brute force and instinct. She also realized a fundamental truth. No matter how poorly she was playing, even at her best, there was no woman in the world who could do better against Dylan Lambert. And the only thing she could possibly do, faced with this fantastic opportunity, was play on, knowing she would only get better.

So intent was she on this new revelation, she completely missed the knowing?and slightly proud?smile on Dylan?s face.

Still, Dylan couldn?t pass up an attempt to razz her player. “Timeclock?s ticking down, shorty. You gonna dribble that ball or are you taking it home for a souvenir?”

Shaken from her reverie, Cat looked up, and grinned at the mirthful eyes gazing at her. Then, taking a deep breath, she made a quick step to her left, watching Dylan?s feet as she followed. Faking another step, she then executed a perfect spin move, and, spying the backboard in the “V” between Dylan?s head and her outstretched arm, launched an off-balance shot that, miracle of miracles, hit the rim and bounced on through.

“Yes!” Cat huffed, finally scoring her first point.

“Very impressive.”

“Thanks!” Then she looked up at Dylan as the ball landed in her hands once again. “It?s your ball.”