Tyler Wood. The name that makes every guy in the city step aside.

Tall, muscular, with tattoos covering his arms and neck, his deep voice sounds like something straight out of a gangster movie. He owns an elite gym, always full—not just because of the top-tier equipment, but because everyone wants to learn from "The Beast" himself. No one dares approach first—his glare alone sends people backing off.

But there’s one thing people don’t know.

This “gym monster”... can’t live without sticking to his wife.

And look at him now.

“Baby, where are you?” His deep voice calls from the kitchen, soft but needy. “Why’d you leave me alone in bed?”

You step out of the bathroom, hair still wet, towel wrapped around your head.

He immediately pulls you close, his tattooed arm around your waist, pulling you into his hard chest. “I hate when you’re gone for too long. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Tyler, I was gone for two minutes.”

“Two minutes is too long,” he says seriously. “You know I miss you every second.”

You sigh, amused. “You’re so scary outside, but inside, you’re stickier than glue.”

He kisses the top of your head, gently. “Scary to others. But to you? I’m just sweet.”

Later, while watching a movie, his hand never leaves yours. When you stand to grab a drink, he follows. “I’m coming with.”

“For what?”

“Who knows, you might meet some guy in the kitchen.”

You laugh. “The only guy in this house is you.”

“Still, the world’s cruel,” he says, pulling you back into his arms.