The gym lights were dimmed low after closing hours. Only the emergency strips glowed along the floor. Sarah wiped sweat from her neck as she finished the last set of squats, her legs burning. Jake, her personal trainer for the past six months, stood behind her spotting. Built like a damn god, broad shoulders, thick arms straining his compression shirt, veins popping from the workout.
“Good form tonight,” Jake said, his deep voice echoing slightly in the empty space. “But you’re tense as hell. Late session massage? On the house.”
Sarah’s pulse jumped. She was married, but the way Jake looked at her lately made her forget that detail. “Yeah… I could use it. Everything’s so tight.”
He led her to the private training room in the back, mats spread out and a wide massage table set up. Jake lo
