Sexy Gym Owner Lady - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

"Whoa there, sis—your form's way off. You're gonna throw out your back..."
The barbell barely left the ground when a pair of muscular arms shot out, one bracing my waist while the other steadied my thigh.
Holy hell.
That was my first thought as his rock-hard body pressed against me. I glanced back to see Troy Lawrence—the new guy who'd joined our gym two days ago. I hadn't realized just how massive he was up close, or how his body radiated heat like a furnace.
"Deadlifts need full engagement—back, glutes, thighs..."
Instead of releasing me, Troy tightened his grip on my exposed waist and closed the distance between us. His hands roamed my abdomen, thighs, lower back—forcing my hips into a deeper arch.
"Push those hips out... Yeah, just like that... Now widen your stance..."
As he adjusted my posture, his abs pressed flush against my ass, his fingers "accidentally" brushing places that made me suck in a breath.
Let's be real—I knew exactly what game he was playing.
And the way my body arched into his touch? That definitely wasn't lost on him either.
But two months without a man's touch had left me desperate. The electric thrill racing through me drowned out any common sense.
So I didn't stop him.
Instead, I bent my knees just enough to roll my hips back against him—slow, subtle, but unmistakable. My mind went wild—would he groan if I dragged my tongue along those carved abs? A guy built like this had to be animalistic between the sheets. Missionary? Against the wall? Or maybe he'd pin me down and—
Riiip.
My flimsy yoga pants split straight up the seam.
"Shit—!"
The barbell crashed down as I scrambled to cover myself—only to realize half the gym had gathered behind me. Their heated stares burned into my bare skin, so close I could feel their collective breath on my neck.
Mortification flooded me as I squeezed my thighs together.
"Damn, boss lady... going commando today?"
"Didn't know you liked working out au naturel..."
Sure, I'd fantasized about these muscle-bound regulars a thousand times, but having them actually ogling me sent shame coiling through my gut.
"You—just keep training. I'm... gonna change."
Finally breaking free from their lingering hands, I bolted to my office and slammed the door. Leaning against it, my heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst.
Maybe it was the months of deprivation talking, but for one reckless second, I'd almost arched into them and let whatever happened... happen.
The realization hit me like ice water. I pressed shaking hands to my flushed face.
No. Get it together. This was how bad decisions started.
After changing into fresh leggings, I stepped back out—only to find the gym floor deserted.
Disappointment curled in my chest—until I heard the shower spray from the men's locker room.
My imagination went nuclear—steam curling over a dozen naked, glistening bodies, water sluicing down carved pectorals, abs you could grind against, thighs thick enough to—
My pulse skyrocketed.
Before I could stop myself, I tiptoed toward the locker room... and peeked inside.
There they were.
Every. Glorious. Inch.