Chapter 87 My Hot Coach (7)

• The session ended with a collective groan from the girlies, our bodies slick with sweat, muscles screaming from Derek’s relentless drills. My purple training suit was practically a second skin now, clinging to my ass and tits, every curve highlighted by the damp fabric. My white sneakers squeaked as I stretched one last time, my thighs trembling, my chest heaving. The gym was still buzzing—weights clanking, treadmills humming—but my focus was on Derek, leaning against the bench, his tank top soaked, his blue eyes catching mine every few seconds. That smirk of his hadn’t faded, and neither had the heat crackling between us.
• “Alright, ladies, you killed it today,” Derek said, clapping his hands, his voice warm but still carrying that edge that made my pulse race. “Get some rest, hydrate, all that good stuff. See you next session.”
• Tasha was already slinging her bag over her shoulder, fanning herself dramatically. “I’m dead, Coach. You’re evil,” she said, but her grin was wide as she pulled me into a quick, sweaty hug. “Mia, you’re a menace. Save some of that energy for the rest of us, yeah?”