“I don’t know; can I talk to Amber?”
“Of course, of course! And the only one who would be seeing you would be me. Private session.” I crossed my heart.
“Now that you’ve just floored me with an opportunity I would normally jump at…because well, I think being part of someone’s art is an incredible experience…you have to give me something in return.”
I frowned. “But I already told you I’d give you the painting.”
He laughed. “Yes, that, too. Right now, though, I’m curious about what’s going on with you and my buddy Atlas.”
Never let it be said that women are the only gossips in the world. The more time I actually spent getting to know my fellow yogis, a lot of which I hadn’t made a priority in the few years I’d been here, the more I found that they were all intertwined in one another’s lives.
Take Dash for example. He was friends with Genevieve and got punched out by Trent for kissing her on the mouth, which I found out from Dara Jackson, our resident meditation specialist and local baker. And now Dash was married to Genevieve’s best friend, Amber, and he and Trent were friends. He was also best friends with Atlas, who I was now entangled with.
“Right now, nothing’s going on with Atlas. I mean, he annoys the heck out of me. He’s good-looking. We made out, I painted him, then we sat around his coffee table, chatting, eating pizza and drinking beer, and then I went home. End of story.”
Throughout my diatribe, Dash’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
“You better close your mouth, or you might catch flies.”
He shook his head quickly. “I’m sorry. You spent all night together, made out, and talked?”
“Yes. Talked. Like we are now. Ever heard of it? I’m sure you do it all the time with your wife, your friends, people you work with.”
He smiled wide. “This is big. Huge,” he said with a dramatic flourish rubbing his hands together like he had a secret.
“What is?”
“Atlas Powers didn’t seal the deal. Hmm.”
I leaned closer into his personal space. “Are you referring to me as a score?”
He moved lightning fast, waving his arms like a crazy person. “No, you misunderstood. It’s just Atlas doesn’t have female friends, aside from my wife. If he’s with a woman, he’s with a woman.”
I rolled my eyes. “I get your drift. Then again, I’m not like all women.”
He looked me over from head to toe, his gaze lingering on all my sexy bits. I definitely did not expect that response since he’d never before given me the time of day. Dash Alexander was officially checking me out. For the first time ever. But why?
“No, you are not. Spunky and spicy seems to fit the bill. You are definitely his type. Are you going to see him again?”
“For sure. He promised me another painting session. He gave his word.”
Dash crossed his arms and lifted one hand to his mouth where he bit down on his thumb. “I meant romantically, Mila.”
“What are you, Dr. Phil? I don’t know. Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t plan my sexual escapades in advance.”
“Sexual escapades. My, my, you are one hot tamale.”
I shook my head and turned to finish setting up, clearly indicating that this conversation was over. “Shut up.”
“Hot tamale!” were his parting words as he sat down to stretch for class.
Me? I had to spend ninety minutes teaching and sweating while thinking about Atlas Powers and his all-encompassing kisses, his mouth on my breasts, working me into submission, his hand on my ass. All of that, and the fact that I’d soon have his delectable, masculine, fit body on display again had me all twitchy with desire. What would I do with him? My sex clenched, and my clit throbbed.
Sexual escapades sounded pretty frickin’ nice right about now.
Chapter Seven
Men and women driven by the manipura are naturally competitive. They may actively participate in sports, projects, and hobbies where they excel and rate their accomplishments on whether or not they are better than the ones around them. It comes very naturally to them to be leaders. You’ll find a lot of manipura driven individuals in high-level management positions, running their own businesses.
ATLAS
“Now splay your fingers and toes out in a morning stretch, slowly waking the mind, body, and the spirit. Ease onto your right side in the fetal position for a few more moments. Enjoy the last minute of your deep relaxation.” I waited five full breaths before continuing. “Now press into your hand, coming into a seated position facing the teacher.”
Once everyone got into place, I pressed my hands to the center of my breastbone or heart center. “We’re going to do three community oms. The om has many different sacred and spiritual meanings. Primarily found in Hinduism and Buddhism, the om is much like a prayer, an incantation made before and during the recitation of spiritual texts.” I glanced around the room, ensuring each student was following along. “In yoga, it is often used as the root mantra and the beginning in the act of chanting. For yogis, though, the humming and reverberating sound is grounding and forces the person to connect with the earth’s magnetic energy. The om is often said to be that of all things, the universe, and the way we can access the essence of our very own self.”
I started the first one, opening my mouth wide into a circular shape, pressing my heart, chest high, and letting out the first syllable. “Ooooooommmmmmm,” I called out, loving the moment when the rest of the class joined in. The first om was always soft and then built in volume when the voices of the rest of the students in attendance joined in.
In class, the second om was always full and resonated deeply within a person’s heart and settled into their rib cage and gut.
The third. Now that was where the beauty lay. By the third community om, the class was secure in their ability to chant as one. The entire room lit up with the combined energy and freedom of so many filling their souls with a communal essence, one that would take them through their day feeling a sense of joy and peace unlike any other.
I closed my eyes and bowed. “Namaste,” I said, silently wishing them happiness and love before sitting back up and opening my eyes.
Naked bodies everywhere. Each person bare and free. God, I loved teaching naked yoga. When clothes—symbolizing the walls and masks we all hide behind and the physical parameters—were stripped away, what was left was honest and pure.
I felt like the luckiest guy around.
Taking my time, I turned and shut off the music, grabbed my pants, and stood.
A few giggles behind me caught my attention. Two women were standing completely bare, waiting at the riser, while their young, bouncing tits were fully on display.
“Hi, Atlas,” the brunette with the bigger breasts said. “I’m Jenifer with one N, and this is my friend, Kallie.” She pointed to her blond friend standing next to her. The girl’s entire face was pink with what I assumed was embarrassment. She didn’t say anything as her long straight hair hung down over her smaller tits. Her pink, erect nipples poked through the strands of her golden locks enticingly. Usually, that alone would have my mini-me standing at attention gratefully, but for some reason, nothing. Not even a prickle of excitement.
“Ladies, how can I help you?” I said and held my bundled-up pants over my cock.
After-class chatting while naked did not appeal to me. I wasn’t ashamed of my body, and I absolutely loved women in all shapes and sizes, but regular chitchat while naked didn’t seem right. It took me out of the Zen moment I’d accomplished through the ninety-minute class.
Jenifer held a lock of her hair and twirled it around her finger, pushing out her large breasts for premium viewing. As if I could miss them. They were huge and fake. I’d seen and felt enough fake breasts to know I preferred the real deal. Nothing wrong with a woman enhancing what the good Lord gave her, but I preferred a nice round, bubblicious ass—like Mila’s—to a huge pair of jugs. Damn, her ass was firm, round, with just eno
ugh bounce to jiggle when she walked. No amount of yoga would take away that ass. I should send her mother a thank-you card for her luscious genetics.
“Um, my friend and I were wondering if you wanted to grab a cup of coffee or a sandwich at Rainy Day Café with us. You know, maybe we could talk about whatever comes up?” She blatantly glanced down to where I’d held my pants.
I smiled and shook my head. Before I could respond, I was startled by the sound of a heavy yoga mat hitting wood flooring. I jerked around and was greeted to the view of the very fine ass I had been thinking about moments ago. Now that got my dick’s attention.
Bouncy brunette cleared her throat and tapped my shoulder. “You were saying? About going out with us?” she supplied rather unhelpfully.
Mila grumbled something under her breath from behind me.
“As I was saying…” I backed up a step, purposefully bumping my bare ass into Mila. Her hands came up and held my hips.
Sha-wing! Mini-me was now at full attention.
Mila leaned her front against my back. “Watch where you’re sticking that thing.” She pushed off, forcing me to fumble, losing the grip on my yoga pants.
My hard dick was now hanging out in the open, my balls drawn up tight, all for the wildcat behind me, though the girls in front wouldn’t assume that. Jesus. Just seeing her ass and I was horny as a toad.
The brunette Jenifer moved forward to help me balance. Her eyes went straight to my cock, and a look of pure feminine pride swept across her features as she licked her lips and openly gestured to my manhood. “Oh, sorry about that.” She giggled and flirted. “So that’s a yes then?” She jutted her chin toward my aching manhood.
Behind me, Mila was making a ton of noise. Flicking through the CDs so they made the optimum amount of clacking against one another. She also turned up her music, likely in a failed attempt to drown out the conversation in front of her. I chuckled under my breath when she organized the yoga blocks, dropping the yoga straps to the bare floor so the plastic clasps clunked noisily. Her obvious groans were not missed either.
“Hotness, do you mind?” I said over my shoulder.
“Mind? No, carry on with your setup for a ménage. Don’t mind me,” she spoke through her teeth.
I chuckled, turned around, tagged her at the waist, and then pulled her body in front of mine. I wrapped one arm around her chest, used that hand to cup her chin and lift her face toward mine, and planted a loud, messy kiss on her glossy lips. “Mmm, peach this time.” I licked my lips and then kissed her again. She sighed and then blinked as if just realizing what I’d done.
“Sorry, ladies, not today. I’ve got plans with my girl later.” Which was a total and complete lie, but it worked for Jenifer because she promptly frowned and crinkled her nose as if someone had just farted in her air space. The meek blonde, Kallie, turned without a word and bustled over to her clothes where she dressed in record time.
Jenifer, however, was undaunted. She took in my very possessive hold on Mila, who, surprisingly, was holding her tongue for once. Jenifer placed her hands on her hips. “If that”—she gestured with one finger up and down Mila’s body—“ever gets boring, feel free to hit me up.”
“For real?” Mila growled. “His hands are all over me. He just put his mouth on mine and you’re going to blatantly hit on him. While I’m standing right here?” Her voice rose along with her ire.
Brunette-fake-tits made a face that looked more like a duck than a flirty pout and shrugged. “He’s fucking hot.”
“I know! That’s why I’m the one he’s fucking,” Mila snapped while her entire body tightened. Her anger sizzled all over her skin, making it warm to the touch, and a fine mist of sweat moistened the areas where I held her close. “Move it. He’s not interested.”
I ran my hands down to Mila’s rounded hips and dug my fingers in. I couldn’t help pressing my hard shaft against the roundness of her ass. The temptation was far too much to bear. “Yeah, sorry, Jenifer. I’ve got all the woman I can handle.” I grinned and nuzzled into Mila’s neck, placing a line of wet, lingering kisses until Jenifer stormed off.
Once the women were both out the door, Mila yanked her body from mine. “What the hell was that?”
I laughed and slipped into my yoga pants and covered my still very hard dick. “I could ask you the same thing.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “You just publicly claimed me.”
I looked at her sideways. “Wildcat, again, I could say the very same thing about you.”
Mila groaned and moved around me, putting several feet of space between us. “I have to teach a class.”
“That you do. We’ll talk about this later.”
She huffed. “No. We won’t. There will be no later.”
Slowly I leaned down, picked up my tank, and tugged it on. “There’s a later. I want you to come to my show tonight.”
“Did you not hear me? No later.”
“Yes, later.” I tugged her by the wrist, yanked her against my chest, and curled a hand around her neck and the other at her waist, locking her to me. Before she could get away, I lifted her chin up and slanted my lips over hers.
MILA
Why did the sexy bastard have to kiss like he’d won a medal in it? Atlas’s lips were warm and soft, pressing hard and then pulling back slow. So sweet. He tasted of mint and man, a hint of salt where his top and bottom lip met skin. He growled when I opened my mouth, allowing him to delve deep. His tongue tangled with mine, over and over as though he couldn’t get enough. I swear he wanted to swallow me whole, and for the life of me, I let him. My entire body became spaghetti in his arms. Nothing but loose limbs, soft curves, and long sighs as we drank from one another. Just when I’d start to kiss harder, he’d hold me tighter. When it turned silky again, he’d hold me like I was made of glass. Breakable. Valuable.
One of his hands scaled down my back, tickling my spine with the barest of caresses. It was like he had a direct remote to my clit. Every time he trailed those callused fingers down my spine, my hot bundle of nerves hardened, throbbed for those fingers to press into the part of me that ached for his touch.
I’d never before felt sex starved, until I was wrapped up in Atlas Power’s embrace. He had some kind of voodoo spell over me. The second those lips touched mine, I was practically begging for it. Ready to lie down and let him have me any way he wanted, as long as he dealt with the fire he started.
Atlas licked deep, ran his tongue across my teeth, then circled my bottom lip, and then my top lip with the very tip. He gave me a last smacking kiss before releasing me so we could breathe and then pressed his forehead against mine.
“Tonight I’m playing at Harmony Jack’s in downtown Frisco. Come see me play. Have a couple drinks on me,” he said.
I sucked in a much-needed full breath, trying to calm the raging hurricane he’d built within my body. “Why?” I was still breathless. “You’re just going to be swooned over by a bunch of groupies.”
He chuckled and ran his hand through the loose locks of hair falling into our tiny haven. The entire world could have been in the yoga room with us, but we wouldn’t have known. When we were face-to-face, it was just us. Everything else melted away. The calm before the storm.
“You’re the only groupie I want swooning.”
“I’m not your groupie. I haven’t even heard your music. How do you know I’ll like it?”
“Come and find out.” He nipped at my bottom lip, tugging the swollen flesh until it smacked back in place.
I sighed and looped both of my forearms on his shoulders so I could put both hands into his unruly hair. I ran my fingers through his silky locks, using my nails to scratch along his scalp.
He moaned, and his hips jerked.
“Oh. Looks like I found an erogenous zone. You like having your head scratched?” I did it again, until he groaned and nipped at my lips with more intent.
“By you? Fuck yes. I’d prefer if it were in more of a private setting, tho
ugh.”
Private setting.
Shit. Our little bubble burst, and the sounds of the room filtered in. Soft voices whispering. My music playing into the third track already. Giggles and male grunts.
I slowly turned and looked over Atlas’s shoulder. My class was full. Not like there were five or ten bodies set up. Nope. Closer to forty were lined up like usual, ready for their lunchtime burn. “Crap,” I whispered and pulled away.
“Uh, sorry, guys,” I addressed the class. “I was just…” With one hand I gestured to Atlas. “Just, uh…”
“Kissing her boyfriend good-bye,” he supplied.
“Yeah. Kissing my boyfriend. Wait, what?” I found myself questioning his words more than any other.
He waggled his brows and winked. “I’ll see you tonight, hotness.” He curled a hand at my nape and then kissed my forehead. He grabbed his yoga mat and hoodie before padding off the riser. “Nine o’clock,” he said while meandering through the various students sitting on their mats waiting patiently for their instructor to get a clue.
I looked at the class, a burning heat scalding my cheeks and neck. “I’m sorry, everyone. For the very inappropriate delay, I’ll go easy on you.”
A joyous round of “Yeahs!” and “All rights!” burst through the room.
“Okay, okay. Back to work. For giving me a hard time, we’re starting with five rounds of surya namaskara B or sun salutation B for those of you less familiar with the Sanskrit terms. And…because I’m feeling generous, only a ten-second hold in the chatarunga, plank push-up transition. Start in Mountain Pose. Let’s go. Everyone up to their feet.”
I took the class through a very rigorous Vin Flow. Since I’d been screwing around and started a full ten minutes late, I gave them an extra five minutes of deep relaxation. I only hoped that the diehards weren’t upset that they didn’t get their full seventy-five minutes of pushing their bodies, followed by a fifteen minutes savasana.
When they left, I didn’t get any complaints except one. The person I hadn’t seen until midway through the class. My best friend. Moe.
Divine Desire: A Lotus House Novel: Book Three Page 8
