"Article by article of clothing, Jordan stripped himself bare. Being naked didn’t bother him. The locker room afforded no privacy. After a win, the guys routinely slapped each other on the ass, back and chest in congratulations. After a loss? The rookies tended to bear the brunt of the frustration and anger. Anyone with less than two years in the league was hazed by the older players. Jordan had been with the Wild Cats for five years and had never participated in the hazing, but he’d been on the receiving end a couple of times. He’d had his locker stuffed with soiled uniforms, his belongings hidden from him and the inside of his locker plastered with pictures of naked women.

He’d laughed and brushed off the incidents, knowing he’d gotten off easy. The taunts lobbed at the rookies could be harsh. Sometimes there were scuffles. He’d kept his head down and focused on his football career.

But he wasn’t at the practice complex. He was in the middle of the club with Simon. No one would be making fun of him here.

Jordan folded his clothing and placed the garments in a neat pile on one end of the couch. He sat on the cushion. What was he supposed to do while he waited until Simon returned? The chilly air in the room wrapped around his body, and his balls tightened. His nipples hardened, and he fought off the desire to touch himself. Simon hadn’t said a word about masturbating.

Anticipation slid through his veins. He’d never been with a Dom before, but from what he’d seen in porno movies and what he’d heard from Rocke, a Dom wasn’t a bad thing. The man in charge would demand the events of the evening were on his terms.

Jordan could handle taking orders. But for how long? When would his sense of pride enter and scream to take over? When would he realize he was being a pansy by letting another man spank him?

Shit. He hated when the dark thoughts entered his mind.

Behind him, the door creaked. Jordan bowed his head. Did Simon expect him to show respect that way? Or should he drop to the floor on his knees? Was Simon even behind him?

“You’re quite colorful.” Simon placed his hand on Jordan’s back. His breath warmed Jordan’s skin. “Soon, I’ll have you explain each marking.”

Oh? He’d never told anyone about the art—not all of it. Even his tattoo artist didn’t know the meaning of many of the images.

Simon stroked his fingers up and down Jordan’s spine. “Interesting.” He strolled around Jordan, giving Jordan a chance to look at him again. Instead of the tight black T-shirt, Simon wore a black tank top. He crouched in front of Jordan.

“I can see the wheels turning in your mind. You’re not sure what’s about to go down. You’re keeping yourself guarded in case you do something you believe is stupid.” He curled his fingers under Jordan’s chin, forcing him to look Simon in the eye. “When we play, I have rules. Rule one is no secrets. Tell me everything. If something feels good, bad, hurts, makes you mad, whatever, you tell me.”

“Yes, sir.” Was he supposed to call Simon by his name or sir?

“Rule two is how you will address me. In a scene, you will call me S. Out of a scene, you may use my name.”

“Yes, S.”

“Good boy.”

Boy?

“Rule three is the boundaries. I will abide by your boundaries, but I reserve the right to push you when I feel you’re ready. I am here to make you happy and give you the release you desire.”

“Yes, S.”

“Rule number four concerns trust. I need your total trust. I respect you and will do my best to give you what you need. You must trust me that if I push, I’m doing it for a reason, not out of some perverse pleasure. You control what we do and when. Understand?”

“Yes, S.” Actually, he wasn’t sure he got what Simon meant. He’d been under the impression that the Dom ran the show. According to what Simon had said, the control was more or less in Jordan’s hands.

“You don’t look convinced.” Simon swiped his thumb across Jordan’s bottom lip. “If you use your safe word, we’ll stop. I respect you and your wishes. If you can handle offering up your control to me, I offer up mine to you, as well.”

“Thank you, S.” Jordan shivered. At least, he’d found a man who wanted to play equal. “What’s my safe word?”

“String bean.” A smile twitched on Simon’s lips. “Do you wish to back out?”

“Not a chance.” Hell, being under Simon’s care seemed like the most natural thing in the world. “I accept, and I’m grateful. Thank you, S.”

“Now, we’ll begin.”