Her Personal Best
Sapphic Sports Romance
by Blair Lennox
Available at all major retailers
Pairing: FF (Sapphic)
Heat: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ Inferno
Tropes: Age Gap, Athlete/Coach, Rivals to Lovers, Bi Awakening, Forced Proximity, Body Worship, Praise Kink, Comeback Story, Injured Athlete, Plus-Size Heroine
Kiera Voss needs one personal best to save her career. Naomi Serrat has one rule: never fall for an athlete. Unfortunately, the woman who can lift more than anyone expected is the only one strong enough to make Naomi lose control.
Kiera Voss should be entering the prime of her weightlifting career. Instead, she’s one failed comeback away from being remembered as the strong, loud, plus-size athlete who almost made it — before a shoulder injury, a viral lift, and one very public meltdown turned her into a cautionary tale.
Naomi Serrat is the forty-one-year-old former world champion known for winning medals, breaking records, and emotionally freezing out every athlete she’s ever coached. She doesn’t want Kiera. Kiera is too undisciplined, too stubborn, too determined to hear every correction as criticism.
But training camp forces them into constant contact: dawn lifts, shared travel, massage tables, ice baths, hotel rooms, and a plan to rebuild Kiera’s body without breaking her mind. When federation politics threaten Kiera’s place at Olympic trials and Naomi’s past becomes public, both women must choose between the safe, silent path and the honest one.
Kiera wants a medal. Naomi wants control. Neither expects to want each other this badly.
You’ll love this book if you enjoy:
✅ FF age-gap sapphic romance (26/41)
✅ Athlete/coach tension with ethical boundaries
✅ Plus-size heroine worshipped exactly as she is
✅ Slow burn that EXPLODES (🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ — graphic, explicit, emotional)
✅ Body worship and praise kink at full volume
✅ Institutional corruption and athlete advocacy
✅ A heroine who lifts for herself, not for anyone’s approval
✅ HEA guaranteed
⚠️ Content Warning: This novel contains explicit sexual content (graphic FF scenes), strong language, sports-related injury, body-image discussions, institutional misconduct, and depictions of anxiety and professional pressure. Intended for readers 18+.
📖 Read Chapter One Free
Not sure yet? Read the full first chapter right here.
Chapter One: Missed Lift
The bar was supposed to go up.
That was the whole point. Two hundred and six pounds of iron and rubber, loaded to the kilo, sitting on the platform under lights hot enough to cook eggs on my collarbones. The clean had been perfect — explosive, fast, the kind of pull that makes the commentators lean forward in their chairs. I caught it deep, stood it up hard, and for one gorgeous second I had the whole arena in the palm of my chalked-up hand.
Then my shoulder said no.
Not a polite no. Not a let’s discuss this later no. A white-hot, nerve-shredding scream that ripped through the joint like someone had taken a blowtorch to the rotator cuff and twisted. My elbow buckled. The bar tilted. I tried to save the jerk — tried to punch through, lock it out, hold it overhead by sheer spite and stubbornness — but the weight had already won.
I dumped it.
Two hundred and six pounds crashed onto the platform with a sound like God dropping a filing cabinet, and sixteen hundred people watched Kiera Voss stand there with empty hands and a face full of something I’d have to deal with later.
The red lights came on before the bar stopped bouncing.
No lift.
Serrat Strength Lab smelled like iron and pine cleaner and the particular kind of industrial air conditioning that only exists in buildings designed for people who sweat professionally. I walked in carrying my gym bag, my equipment case, and the specific variety of loud confidence that I wore like body armor whenever I entered a room where someone might try to make me smaller.
Naomi Serrat was standing next to the front desk with a tablet and a coffee cup from a thermos that read NOTHING FANCY. She was taller in person. Six feet, easy, with the lean, coiled build of a woman who’d spent twenty years training for explosive power and then spent the next decade coaching it out of other people.
“Kiera Voss.” Not a question. A confirmation. Like she was checking a plate against a loading chart.
“In the flesh,” I said, and then immediately wanted to punch myself because in the flesh was exactly the kind of thing people said about me when what they meant was there’s a lot of it.
She looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read, and when she spoke, her voice was quiet and absolutely certain.
“You should not have been lifting on this.”
“So what now? You going to tell me I need to lose thirty pounds and find a different sport?”
“I’m going to tell you that you were hurt by someone who should have protected you. And that the first thing we’re going to do is stop making it worse.”
I didn’t cry. I’m a professional. But I did bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper, and Naomi either didn’t notice or was kind enough to pretend.
Want to keep reading? The full novel is available now.
🔥 Want an EXCLUSIVE Bonus Chapter?
After Hours — A scene TOO HOT for Amazon
The community clinic has ended. Everyone has gone home. Kiera and Naomi are alone in the training center. And the platform that held personal bests is about to hold something significantly more personal. Chalk handprints, gym acoustics, and the filthiest, funniest, most athletic bonus chapter in the series.
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