Page 5 of Jacked (Gymbos #1)

“Uh, yeah, actually…”

“He’s with me.” AJ cuts in, hopping off of a treadmill a few feet away. He snags his towel from where it’s dangling from the handle and uses it to mop the sweat off of his face. His skin is flushed with exertion and his hair is damp, matted down against his head.

“Cool. I’ll let you handle the membership paperwork then. But if you have any questions, just ask.” The dude hands me a clipboard just as AJ reaches me.

“Thanks, Andre,” AJ says.

I tug at the collar of my shirt and look at the clipboard with a grimace.

“Is it cool if I get changed first?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure.” He takes the clipboard from me and jerks his chin towards the back wall. “Changing room is right through there. Pick any locker you want that isn’t already taken.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” I grab AJ’s shoulder in a friendly squeeze on my way past. His skin is just as slick with sweat as it looks, and for some reason that makes my stomach do a little flip.

Disgust? That’s probably it. Except… I’ve never found sweat all that gross.

It’s just salty water basically. Is it supposed to be gross because it leaks out of us?

“That ‘no fucking in the shower’ policy doesn’t sound so crazy now, does it?

” someone says behind me as I push open the door to the locker room.

I pause for half a second, trying to figure out if that comment was meant for me or about me, and what it even means.

Do they think I look like the type to pick up a chick at the gym and fuck her in the shower?

“What?” AJ’s confused grunt echoes my thoughts exactly, which makes me laugh as the door swings closed behind me.

There are a few guys in the locker room already, and I can hear a couple of showers running.

I dip into the first row of lockers and drop my gym bag on the bench.

Peeling off my suit feels like shedding a skin that’s too damn tight and all wrong.

Maybe corporate life isn’t the life for me.

It’s not like I haven’t indulged in daydreams of turning in my two weeks’ notice, with a middle finger for good measure, and finding any-fucking-thing else to do with my life.

But, shit, it sounds daunting as hell to start from scratch at thirty.

I toss my shirt and tie into the locker without worrying about wrinkles.

As I’m stepping out of my pants, a burly dude comes around the corner into my row.

He clearly just got out of the shower because he’s dripping wet, his dark chest hair matted to his chest, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the tile behind him…

and he’s completely bare-ass naked with his towel flung uselessly over his shoulder.

Guys with absolutely no shame are in no way a rarity in gym locker rooms. I think some of them come to the gym just for the pleasure of walking around balls out with an audience after they’re done working out.

And I can definitely see why this dude in particular is strutting around with the biggest of dick energy.

The meat between his legs would look right at home on a horse.

His soft cock slaps against his gargantuan thighs with every swaggering step he takes. Honest to god slaps .

Slap.

Slap.

Slap.

I jerk my eyes away from it in awe and a little bit of terror.

Terror for whatever poor soul rides that beast, yes, but also terror for the fact that there’s no way he didn’t just catch me staring.

In my defense, what the fuck? Instead of glaring or telling me to fuck off though, he just winks and saunters past, stopping a few lockers down to dry himself off and get dressed.

I hurry through changing, trying really hard not to think any more about the one-eyed monster a few feet away.

You ever notice how the more you try not to think about something, the more it becomes the only thing you can think about?

Like, if it’s that long and thick soft, how fucking big does it get when it’s hard?

And why is that thought making me all kinds of sweaty and nervous?

Once I’m dressed in my shorts, tank top, and gym shoes, I haul ass out of the locker room, leaving my musings about frighteningly big dicks behind. AJ is still near the front desk, but he’s chatting with a dude who looks like a potential client, so I hang back instead of interrupting him.

While I’m waiting, a big, blond dude with a baby face comes over with a big grin, giving me a once-over as he approaches.

“Hey, man,” he says. “Butch.” He holds out his hand and I go in for a shake, but instead it turns into an elaborate fist-bumping hand jive that I do my best to keep up with, but when he gets to the part where there’s finger wiggling and a series of snaps, I give up and settle for patting him roughly on the shoulder.

He chuckles jovially and I decide I like him. “So, are you AJ’s man?”

“His…” I frown and cock my head. “We’re roommates,” I say, hoping that’s what he’s looking for.

A redhead with a lot of freckles gasps dramatically and pantomimes a move that looks like he’s whipping off a pair of non-existent sunglasses.

“They were roommates !” he shouts, and I can tell from his voice he’s the same one who made the comment about shower sex earlier.

Butch cackles and Andre sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Ignore them, they’re idiots.”

“Uh, okay,” I agree with a stilted chuckle, still trying to figure out what any of that actually was.

Thankfully, AJ finishes up with the guy he’s talking to and turns back to me with the clipboard in hand.

“Alright, let’s fill this shit out so I can get you lifting weights,” he says. Right to the point, no nonsense. I like it.

“Fuck yes, please. I haven’t been inside a gym in over a week thanks to the long-ass drive from Cali. My ass feels like dough.”

“Looks pretty good from where I’m standing,” Butch says, leaning around for an exaggerated peek.

“Thanks.” My cheeks heat and I huff out a laugh.

“Dude, bad form to flirt with someone’s… roommate right in front of them,” a big dude with a bushy beard and tattoos says from his spot perched on a stationary bike, peddling and puffing as he shoots me a grin like he’s got my back.

“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” AJ asks.

I shake my head. “Not even a little.”

He chuckles, and I notice again that funny little wheeze that goes along with it. For some reason, it makes me smile.

“Glad I’m not alone,” he mutters, and a warm feeling floods my chest.

It’s been a long time since I’ve just clicked with someone as easily as I have with AJ, and he’s right, it’s fucking nice not to feel so alone. I squeeze his shoulder again and grin at him.

“Me too, man, me too.”