My body pulses at the sound of his voice, and I force my eyes up, over his thick, muscular thighs, the fight shorts hanging low on his hips, the bulge of his cup, the chiseled abs, broad chest… Oh, and there’s his ridiculously handsome face. “Yes.”

    He gives a cocky smile, his eyes glittering. “Then you know you’ll need to lie back on the mat.”

    “Okay.” I drop to sitting and suck in a sharp breath as my poor abused ass hits the mat.

    Jack studies me for a long moment and then he bends down and presses his lips to my ear. “Does it hurt to sit, darlin’?”

    My breath leaves me in a rush, and my pulse throbs between my thighs. “Ah. Yes.”

    “Good.” His voice is low, rough, and sends an erotic shiver down my spine. “Stay like that. I’ll help Cora first.”

    Breathe, Penny. Breathe. I inhale deeply and let it out slowly, like we do in yoga class. Is he playing mind games with me, or was that just an innocent “sit on the ass I bruised up the other night and remember every stroke of my hand while I help your friend”? My mind swirls with the possibilities while my insides clench, but there is no way for me to tell what he’s thinking, and if I don’t shut it down, I will twist myself up imagining things that might not be there.

    He lies on the mat and coaches Cora through the move. I try not to notice the way his muscles bulge, his aura of pure, raw strength, and the ease with which he moves despite his size. After he sends Cora to practice with Doctor Death, he kneels in front of me, his eyes missing nothing. “How are you doing?”

    “Good, thanks.” My voice rises in pitch, belying my cheerful words. I let my eyes drift down his powerful chest and arms. Until he went pro, he always wore a yellow tank top with a happy face on it. Now he wears his sponsor shirts advertising everything from gear to power bars to sports drinks. Although I understand the business, part of me misses the old days when he was just another guy in the gym and not on his way to becoming a star.

    “If you’d stayed, I would have looked after you,” he whispers.

    “I…you…did…look after me.” I lie on my back and part my legs so he can get in position. His massive forearms harden and clench beside me, the way they must have done when he spanked me on Friday night.

    He cocks one dark eyebrow, amused. “You were embarrassed.”

    “That wasn’t why I was there.”

    “You were so fucking sexy.” He grabs my wrists and pins my hands to the mat above my head.

    My blood rushes hot through my veins. “What?”

    “Sexy.” He leans over me, makes a deep humming noise in the back of his throat. “I want you to come back.”

    Adrenaline surges through my body. Jack thinks I’m sexy. He thought spanking me was sexy, making me come was sexy. “Tonight?” I try to keep the panic from my voice. “Don’t you have to train?”

    He gives me a quizzical look. “You think I go there every day? It’s pretty intense, Pen. I go on Saturday because Sunday is my day off training, and only sometimes during the week, usually if someone makes a specific request.”

    “Do you…have any specific requests this week?”

    A smile tugs at his lips. “Tomorrow night. But if you want…”

    My stomach tightens, and I’m not sure if it’s the thought of him with another woman in his playroom or because I need to keep him away from the club. “No.” My hands fly up in a warding gesture, and his smile fades.

    “I scared you.”

    “You didn’t scare me. I just felt awkward because we’re friends and it…went somewhere I wasn’t expecting. I’m sorry.”

    He studies me intently, like he’s searching for lies. “What if we weren’t friends?”

    “I don’t think I could have done that with someone I don’t know,” I say honestly. “That night with Master Damien, I didn’t really understand what it was all about. I still don’t, but I’m pretty sure I need some kind of emotional connection—trust.”

    Jack drops his weight, and I am deliciously enveloped in hot, hard, musky male.

    “If I kissed you now,” he says softly, “we wouldn’t be friends.”

    My brain fuzzes over. “What would we be?”

    He dips his head down. His breath is warm on my cheek, his body hot and heavy on mine. “Not friends.”

    Confused, aroused, desperately wanting to close that inch between us and press my lips against his, I whisper, “Oh.”

    He shakes his head, frowns. “That wouldn’t be good.”

    What? He wants to kiss me and then he doesn’t? He seems as confused as I am.

    “Not sure I know that submission, but I’m willing to learn.” Renegade squats down beside us, a grin splitting his face. “Class is over, folks. You might want to take it outside. Torment is teaching next, and he’s not as forgiving about sexing it up in class as I am.”

    Jack releases my hands and helps me up as Renegade makes a discreet exit. Blinking, I stare at the empty room, and heat flushes my cheeks. God. I was so far gone I missed the end of class. And now we’re fodder for the Redemption gossip mill. For nothing.

    “I’ve got to go meet up with my coach,” Jack says. “I’m training all day tomorrow, usually cool down around six with a run. You want to come for a run after work?”

    Run with Jack? Like on a date? At the very least, though, it will keep him away from the club. “Okay.” I smile brightly. “Tomorrow. We’ll go for a run. And afterward, you can take me to the hospital because I have a feeling your idea of an easy cooldown is going to be like running a marathon for me.”

    “I’ll tell Blade Saw to meet us at six. I always run with him.”