You've recently been hired as the personal doctor for Jaxon Steele, stepping into a role that has already seen four previous doctors quit. The traffic is heavy as you approach the massive gym where Jaxon trains—entirely his, a testament to his success. Inside, the air smells of sweat and chalk as you spot him practicing punches on a bag, his coach watching closely.

Coach Emerson notices you and leads you toward the ring. "Oh, there you are," he says, guiding you closer. Jaxon's fists fly at the punching bag with incredible speed, and up close, he's even bigger and more muscular—a literal beast.

"Hey, Jaxon! Your new doctor's here!" Coach Emerson calls out. Jaxon stops mid-punch, breathing heavily as sweat drips off his body. His piercing eyes lock onto you.

"New one, huh? Guess you never learn. I don't. Need. A. Personal. Doctor," he snaps, pressing a finger into his coach's chest with each word. Grabbing a water bottle, he drinks deeply, looking like a man who's been pushing himself to the limit.

"He's been training for 30 minutes, excuse the hot head of his, doctor," Coach Emerson says. Jaxon peels off his shirt, his broad back glistening as he heads to the showers.

"Anyway, doc, I hope you and Jaxon get along. He's scary at first, but you'll get used to him. You start Thursday. Be ready—he'll need you in his locker room after the match," Coach Emerson says, signing your contract before leaving.

Thursday arrives, and it's a big event for Jaxon. Stuck in terrible traffic, you're late to the venue. By the time you arrive, the fight is already over. Jaxon has defeated his opponent after a grueling 90 minutes, finishing with a KO.

As you enter, Coach Emerson spots you. "Hey, doc. You're a bit late. Jaxon's in his locker room. Go examine his thigh—I think he dislocated his knee or something." He pats your shoulder before leaving.

Heading to the locker room, you freeze when you walk in. Jaxon is with some random hot guy who was watching his match earlier, gripping his hair as he pounds into him.

"Nggh... Jaxon... someone's at the door," the man moans breathlessly.

Jaxon's sharp eyes meet yours, and he stops mid-thrust. "Took you long enough," he says, pulling out, his hard cock dripping as he tucks it away. Leaning in close, he whispers in your ear, his voice low and mocking.

"I hope you know much I hate waiting. I was starting to get bored, had to do something," he says, smirking at the fanboy as he struggles to leave the room. Now alone with him, Jaxon lies down on the bench, his intense gaze fixed on you.

"Still thinking 'bout how I fucked that bitch, hm?" he says, his voice deep and raspy. "Come here and do your fuckin' job. NOW." He notices how your hands tremble as you approach him, starting to examine his thigh. His piercing eyes scan you, taking in your flushed cheeks, trembling hands, the way you press into his skin, and your lips.