...When Martin finally hit the End Workout button on the digital board and the belt slowly died, Trent was more than ready to stop. As he stepped down, his breathing shallow and too fast, he said, “Man, I’m really out of shape.”

Martin’s eyes flicked over him quickly. “You’re in pretty good shape as far as I can see.”

Trent paused, wondering if he’d heard the soft words right and if the intention of the words was what he thought it was. “I’m weak as a kitten.”

“You’ll regain your strength. It just needs a little more time.”

Martin had set up a program for him along the lines of what his physical therapist advised. He also provided small squishy balls to squeeze to strengthen his hands. He demonstrated some easy stretches for his back and legs, and when a spasm tightened Trent’s scarred leg, Martin called a halt. “Enough for today. Come into the spa area and I’ll smooth out that muscle.”

A couple of men were sitting nude in the spa, and anxiety jolted through Trent. Oh, boy, being in that Jacuzzi naked with Martin would create an embarrassing situation.

Martin must’ve noticed because he chuckled and shook his head. “We’re going in here,” he said and motioned to a massage room off to the side. After they entered, he added, “You can strip or leave your jock strap in place. I’m going to massage your leg. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Trent admitted he stripped because he wanted to be naked under that clean white sheet for Martin as he lay on his back on the table.

Martin returned with a bottle of oil. He left the door ajar so they’d have privacy without being totally alone. The table couldn’t be seen through the doorway.

Trent worried about making his dick behave, but he’d hurt so long and so much in his ribs, shoulder and leg that he closed his eyes and let Martin work his magic, forgetting about his desire. Martin put a CD in a player and smooth jazz sounded in the background. He tucked the sheet in so as to expose the injured leg, but not Trent’s sac and dick. Still, the fact of whose hands were tucking made Trent nervous again. The room filled with the faint scent of almond oil, and at last, Trent relaxed and enjoyed the pure pleasure of deft hands massaging his feet and gliding their way up his lower legs and then to his thighs.

“You have good hands,” he murmured.

A silent Martin paused, as if taken aback by the comment, then he continued to work out the kinks in Trent’s leg. When his hands reached under the tucked sheet and followed Trent’s quad muscles right up to his hipbones, Trent’s unruly dick threatened to seriously tent the sheet as it rose under it. He reached to push it down, but Martin stopped him.

“That’s not a problem. Happens all the time. Shows you’re still all man, despite the abuse your body has experienced.”

Trent concentrated on relaxing again as the warm hands slid over his muscles to knead and stroke.

“You had a lot of knots in this leg. The oil will also help soften the scar and make it more flexible.”

The husky voice triggered visions of Martin reclining on a bed naked, a long, hard cock riding up against his belly, his sac straining to keep up, all waiting for the touch of Trent’s hand. He could imagine the feel of the erection in his palms as he tugged up and down, faster and faster, until Martin convulsed and came.

Damn it, he could feel his cock drooling and knew he was about to come. He pushed up on his elbows and raised one knee. “I think that’s enough. This is feeling a little too good right now.”

Martin stopped, but one corner of his mouth seemed to fight lifting in a smile. “As I said, it shows you’re all man. However, I don’t want to lose my certification as a fitness trainer, so we’ll stop.”