Chapter 85 My Hot Coach (5)

• The gym was a rhythm of its own—ropes slicing through the air, sneakers thumping on the mats, and the girlies’ breaths coming in sharp, steady puffs. I gripped the skipping rope’s handles, the rubber biting into my palms, and kept my pace, my body moving like a metronome. My purple training suit clung to every curve, and with every jump, my tits bounced, the low neckline doing nothing to hide it. I could feel eyes on me—not just from the mirrors reflecting my every move, but from the other gym-goers stealing glances. Let them look. I was feeling myself, sweat beading on my collarbone, my damp hair swinging against my back. My ass looked unreal in this suit, and I knew it.
• Tasha was next to me, her curls bouncing as she skipped, muttering curses under her breath every time her rope snagged. “This shit’s gonna kill me,” she huffed, shooting me a side-eye. “You make it look easy, Mia. Fuck you for that.”
• I laughed, my breath hitching as I kept jumping. “It’s all in the wrists, Tash,” I teased, flicking my rope faster just to show off. My tits bounced harder, and I caught my reflection—hazel eyes glinting, lips parted, a flush creeping up my cheeks. I looked like trouble, and I was leaning into it.