You check out Angelica's "form."

Navigating through the weights section of the gym, you ignore the usual background noise and instead let your eyes drink in the intoxicating sight currently flexing her muscles.

Impressively lifting up two medium-sized weights, Angelica has her attention focused solely on her form.

But ironically enough, she isn’t the only one focused on just that.

At least a dozen of her male ECL counterparts are shamelessly ogling her from multiple directions, fixated on not just what she is doing but rather what she is wearing.

As per the bet stipulation, the Latina fighter is wearing only her daring sling bikini instead of her usual workout apparel, also leaving her legs and back bare for the viewing pleasure of her colleagues.

Perfectly accentuating her athletic curves, the bikini clings on to her supple flesh despite the intensity of her routine.

Approaching her as she begins squatting down with the weights still in hand, you brush past her “admiring fans” and confidently lean against the mirror she is staring into.

“I gotta say Angelica, that’s some pretty subtle advertising,” you greet her slyly, naturally earning some resentful side-eye from her. “You must be real **** for your next booking or something.”

Stopping mid-squat, she gently puts the weights down before rising up.

Taking a quick swig out of her water bottle, it takes a considerable amount of willpower not to let your eyes drop to see her bountiful tits almost beginning to be released from their strappy restraints.

“I always keep my promises, John,” she shrugs somewhat humbly. “Believe me, this isn’t even in the Top 5 of most humiliating things I’ve had to do because of a stupid bet.”

You raise your eyebrow slightly, sufficiently piqued. “Top 5, huh?”

“Don’t get too excited. You don’t know me well enough to get all of those juicy details,” she shoots back playfully.

“Well, maybe we can change that, sometime,” you tell her suggestively, eyeing up her voluptuous form eagerly.

Letting out a bemused chuckle, she casually tilts her head towards a male fighter currently doing a poor job of hiding his lustful stare. “You see that blonde guy over there?”

Fixing your eyes on his jacked physique lingering next to a bench press machine, you nod your head indifferently.

“He looks like Tarzan now, but in bed I make him sound like Jane,” she smiles at you flirtatiously, her words giving you pause for thought.

“You’re good in the ring, certainly better than any rookie I’ve ever faced. But if you think you can really handle all of this...” She runs a teasing hand down her midriff before her lips purse in an enticing whisper, “You know where to find me.”

Letting her glare linger ever so coyly at your groin area, she gives an approving purr before sauntering away towards the main gym floor.

As she passes by the equipment, the magnetic sway of her hips continues to attract almost every eye in the vicinity, yours included.