Chapter 50: Warm-Up

Elena stood in the center of the court with her hands on her hips, looking at the twelve players who were still openly staring at her. The tight basketball jersey and short shorts had done exactly what she wanted — they had forced every single one of them to pay attention. Now she needed to use that attention before it faded.

"Enough standing around," she said clearly. "Warm-up first. Five full rounds of the court. No walking. No stopping. Move."

A few of the boys exchanged glances, but no one argued. The group slowly started jogging toward the edge of the court. Elena waited until most of them had started moving, then fell into pace with them.

She deliberately ran in the middle of the pack.

The moment she began running, the tight jersey made her situation obvious. Her full breasts bounced heavily with every step, the stretchy fabric doing almost nothing to control the movement. The short shorts rode up slightly higher on her thighs as she moved, and she could feel the air against her skin.

Elena didn't try to hold them still. She didn't fold her arms or adjust her top. She simply kept running, her breathing steady, her expression calm.

And she felt their eyes on her the entire time.

Some of the players slowed their pace just enough to stay near her. Others ran slightly behind so they could watch without being too obvious. Elena noticed every glance. She saw the way their eyes dropped to her chest, followed the bounce of her breasts, then quickly looked away when they thought she might catch them.

She didn't care.

In fact, a quiet part of her enjoyed it. The same restless hunger that had been growing inside her for weeks stirred again as she felt their attention locked on her body. The power of being desired so openly while still maintaining the role of their coach sent a low heat through her.

Halfway through the second round, one of the taller players running beside her suddenly shifted closer. His elbow brushed hard against the side of her breast — far too deliberate to be accidental. The contact was firm and lingering for a fraction of a second before he pulled away.

"Sorry, Coach," he said quickly, though his eyes stayed on her chest a moment longer than necessary.

Elena kept her expression neutral. "It's okay."

She didn't slow down. She didn't scold him. She simply continued running.

The message was clear enough. The players around them noticed. A few of them glanced at each other with small, knowing looks. The boundary she had drawn earlier was already starting to blur, and they were testing how far they could push it.

Elena felt the shift in the air. The earlier boredom and disinterest had been replaced by something sharper. Something hungry. She was no longer just the new coach who had walked in wearing revealing clothes. She was becoming someone they could try things with.

By the time they finished the fifth round, most of the players were lightly sweating. Elena's own skin was warm, and the tight jersey clung even more closely to her body from the slight sheen of sweat. She stopped near the center of the court and waited for the rest of the group to gather.

"Good," she said, slightly out of breath. "Now divide into two teams. We're going to run some basic half-court drills."

The response was immediate and unenthusiastic.

A few of the players groaned under their breath. One of them muttered something about it being boring. Another leaned against the wall and wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt, making no move to form a team.

Elena watched them for a moment, then made another decision.

"Fine," she said. "If you don't want to practice seriously, then I'll join the game myself. Two teams. I'll play on one side. Anyone who still doesn't want to participate can sit out and watch."

That changed the atmosphere instantly.

Several of the players straightened up. A few of them looked at each other with renewed interest. The idea of their coach — the same woman whose body they had been openly staring at for the last twenty minutes — joining the game was clearly far more appealing than regular drills.

Elena walked over to the side of the court and picked up a basketball. She bounced it once, feeling the weight of their eyes still on her.

"Choose your teams," she said. "And try to keep up."

The players quickly began dividing themselves, the earlier laziness completely gone. Elena stood there holding the ball, her heart beating a little faster than the warm-up alone could explain. She could already feel the way the game was going to go — more physical, more contact, more opportunities for wandering hands and "accidental" touches.

And for the first time since walking onto the court, she wasn't sure whether she was still fully in control… or whether she was deliberately letting the control slip.

End of Chapter 50

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