Chapter 2

It sounded somewhat logical for athletics. After a brief hesitation, I answered honestly.

"Uh... 36, 24, 37. And a 32E cup."

Blanco nodded. He pulled a measuring tape from his desk drawer and told me to strip so he could "verify" the numbers himself.

"Miss, this is standard protocol," he said firmly. "I have to ensure applicants aren't lying on their files."

I wasn't stupid. I knew he was trying to cop a feel.

Just as I opened my mouth to decline, Blanco tossed a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills onto the desk.

"Five thousand dollars signing bonus. Pass the physical check, and it's yours right now."

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of that cash.

After agonizing over it, I reasoned that it was just a quick measurement. What was the big deal? I agreed.

I usually wore high-support sports bras and compression shorts.

Stripping off my outer clothes wasn’t totally embarrassing; the athletic wear covered as much as a bikini.

Blanco frowned. He demanded I take everything off.

"We don't just check measurements," he said, pushing the boundary further. "We also screen for contagious skin conditions and underlying issues. It's part of the pre-employment physical."

I pushed back, arguing that medical checks should be conducted at an authorized clinic.

Blanco shrugged nonchalantly, claiming clinic results were easily forged with a little bribe.

"I'm responsible for the health of the entire program. I need to see for myself. If you have a problem with our vetting process, the door is right there."

I stared at the stack of cash. Needing the money so desperately, I treated it like a private boudoir shoot in my head and reluctantly peeled off the rest of my clothes.

Nothing overtly physical happened, and Blanco didn't force himself on me.

Yet his eyes devoured every inch of me.

He saw everything.

When he wrapped the tape around me, he pulled it uncomfortably tight, brushing his fingers against my bare skin.

A wave of disgust washed over me.

To survive, I endured it. Being broke in college leaves you with no dignity.

Satisfied, Blanco let me get dressed. He pulled out an employment agreement along with a strict NDA.

Desperate to get out of there, I signed without reading the fine print, grabbed the cash, and moved toward the door.

Blanco pinned my hand to the desk, telling me to calm down.

He took down my phone number, filed the paperwork, and told me to report for duty the next morning.

Only then did he let go.

Clutching the envelope of cash, I unlocked the door, eager to escape.

The moment I pulled it open, I slammed right into a solid, sweaty chest.

I stumbled back and looked up. Towering at nearly six-foot-eight was a massive Black guy in a loose jersey. His exposed arms and legs bulged with shredded muscle.

He was built like an absolute tank.

He paused, staring at me. His gaze was far more raw and predatory than Blanco's, his pupils dilating as he drank in my figure.

My pulse spiked with pure adrenaline. Terrified, I kept my head down and squeezed past him.

As I rushed down the hall, their muffled conversation drifted out of the office.

"Is that the new cheerleader? Damn, Coach, she's fire! I wanna wreck that..."

"Keep it down, Tucker. She's still within earshot."

...

I sprinted out of the building.

With the five thousand dollars, I bought some basic groceries and supplies, planning to stretch the rest over the next couple of months.

That afternoon, an email from the bursar’s office hit my inbox: course material and digital access fees were due.