Jaxson Hartfield has very specific desires, and they involve muscular men. Problem is, he hasn’t been able to make any of his relationships last. Thus he’s forty-one and single, but not for lack of trying. So Jaxson buries himself in work and late nights and admires Carter Daniels, the very buff eye-candy at his gym, without any hope for more.<br><br>Carter Daniels is a weightlifter whose biceps and triceps distract Jaxson to the point of tripping over his own feet. And it doesn’t get any better from there. Just a whiff of the man’s sweat turns Jaxson’s brain to mush, making conversation practically impossible.<br><br> Carter knows Jaxson is attracted to him. But getting the man to stop acting like a scared rabbit around him might take a lot of effort. Still, he may be just the muscleman for the job.

For the Love of Muscles

I looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”


“I mean, I can tell you have a thing for me, but you don’t do—” Oh no.


I cut him off because, damn. “Wait, what?” He knew? Motherfucker


His eyes widened. “No! Well, yeah, I mean, I know you’re sporting wood, but it’s okay, and I—”


“Ah, fuck.” I decided right then and there to shower at home. To hell with going back to work. I threw everything into my bag and left the room as quickly as possible.


“Jaxson, wait!” Carter called, but mortification was a bitch.


“Jax, if you snap at me one more time, I’ll quit,” Sam said, his glare a laser beam, which his kids—and the department staff—knew meant “cut the shit.” I had seen it work on numerous occasions.


“So, take one of those goddamn promotions you’re offered like twice a month and you’ll be out of my hair,” I growled, not ready to stop being a jerk.


Chapter 3