Chapter Twelve
Triangle Pose (Sanskrit: Trikonasana)
A classic standing yoga pose that’s designed to extend and stretch each side of the body, strengthen the legs, build flexibility and balance. Extend the legs a full leg length distance apart, slide one hand down the leg, twist the upper body horizontal and extend the opposite hand to the sky. Actively reach the arms in opposite directions and breathe through any tight or tense areas.
MILA
“I swear to God, curly, if you puncture even one of those paintings, you’ll be walking with a limp for the rest of your life!” I hollered as Atlas and his friend Clay lifted several of my most prized possessions out of the truck.
Honestly, if I wasn’t so into the messy-haired musician, I’d be drooling over his friends. It was as if a guy had to be insanely hot to be part of his man posse. Take Trent for example. Star baseball player, built, sandy-colored hair that fell just right, and a dazzling pair of hazel eyes. Even his hands were sexy. Then there was Clayton Hart. Aptly named, because he’d definitely stop a woman’s heart from beating just by looking at her. Dirty blond hair, spiked on top, with a set of clear-as-day blue eyes. He was what I’d call a slice of hot apple pie, or an American man at his finest. Of course, that heaping dose of sugary goodness came in a package that included muscles upon muscles. Watching him lift my paintings as though the canvases were featherlight, I started to drool. Definitely made total sense that he was a personal fitness trainer to the stars.
I could never forget my buddy Dash. I think he’d be happy with that endearment. Buddy. I hadn’t really considered Dash a friend before, more a colleague, but when I looked closer, he’d always been there for me with a kind word and a hug. He’d swapped classes with me countless times when I needed it over the years. So yeah, buddies. Throw in the fact that he was Atlas’s best friend, and we had a regular brofest. Only one dude was missing.
Just as the thought took root, a deep growl of a manly exhaust rumbled through the air, announcing the fly muscle car that came careening around the corner of Moe’s suburban Berkeley neighborhood. Daytona yellow Chevy Camaro Z/28 302 4-speed with a set of black racing stripes down the center and one hell of a beefed-up engine. It rolled to a stop right in front of the guys. Basically, tits on wheels.
Nicolas Salerno or “Nick” as he preferred, hopped out of his car wearing his standard garb, a black tank and a distressed pair of jeans. Taller than most Italians I knew, Nick stood at around six feet with black, perfectly slicked hair, a pair of the prettiest, palest blue eyes, a beard-goatee combo, and a wide smile. The man was always smiling. Unless, of course, a male was looking at one of his five sisters, or one of the women he’d adopted as his sisters, which pretty much included every woman who worked at Lotus House.
“Hi, Nick!” I ran down the steps and jumped at him. He caught me midair and lifted me up so that I had to wrap my legs around his waist. Then he laid a big fat smooch on my forehead. Just like a brother. I so loved Nick!
“Yo! Put her down, man. Now.” Atlas’s voice boomed from somewhere behind me.
The air behind my back turned icy cold. Nick’s hands squeezed tighter around my form as he looked around me. I let my legs fall from around his waist, but Nick didn’t let go when my feet hit the ground. Not an option when his protective brother alert screamed at full flare.
I wanted to warn Atlas, say something like, “Danger, danger, Will Robinson!” However, I was too slow. Nick used this one-armed move where he tucked me to his side and then behind him, so that he faced Atlas head on.
“I’m sorry. Who are you and why should I care?” Nick stiffened his spine, putting his large shoulders and biceps on display.
Nick had a fiery temper. More so than mine, and that was unusual. Nick had been raised in Southside Chicago where a person knew their place based solely on nationality. That meant he spent a lot of time using his fists to handle disagreements. Unfortunately for Atlas, that habit could rear its ugly head at any given moment. As far as I knew, Nick had kept his fists in the ring at the local boxing league he managed during the evenings, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use them if provoked.
Atlas crossed his arms over his chest, puffing out his goods, and I had to admit, the two were pretty equal when it came to body styles. Atlas lifted his chin toward me. “I’m seeing Mila.” He said this as if it answered every question on Jeopardy. Um…no.
Nick looked at each guy, some of whom were trying really hard not to laugh at the outlandish rush of testosterone that, all of a sudden, was so thick it would take a chainsaw to cut that shit. “Looks like we know some of the same people.”
“Including my girl,” Atlas added.
Oh for crying out loud.
I laughed. “Now that’s taking it a bit too far.” Adjusting my position, I attempted to maneuver around the wall of Nick, but did not get past those hands of his locking me in place.
“Looks like my girl, Mila, doesn’t see things the way you do. So the next time you want to interrupt me greeting my friend, one I’ve known for years and haven’t seen in weeks, you can just step back…bro.” Nick’s tone brooked no argument.
I put my hands on Nick’s shoulders. “Hey, Nickster, it’s okay. I really am banging him,” I admitted, hoping it would ease the tension.
Then the teddy bear came out. Nick lifted his head to the sky and groaned. “Now you’ve done it. You actually made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.” He groaned again. “This guy? With the hair?” He pointed at Atlas’s curly mop. “You’re giving it up to him? Sweetie, we really need to talk about setting your standards higher.” He sighed.
Everyone but Atlas, who had no idea what the hell was going on, laughed. Hard. The rest of the crew already knew Nick and his protective vibe. Trent had caught on to it right away months ago and thanked the guy for looking out for his woman, Genevieve, when she was working at Lotus House. Now that Dash had innocent Amber running around the yoga studio more often, Nick even kept a lookout for her.
“Can you give the guy a chance? Look, he’s the one that set up all these dudes to help me move. And…he’s letting me paint him. Naked!” I grinned and waggled my eyebrows for effect.
“Oh shit, man, that sucks! You must be into her if she’s conned you into letting her paint you. I did it once, fully clothed, and I was so bored out of my mind I fell asleep!” He chuckled and held out his hand. “Nicholas Salerno. Mila and me go way back. Like a sister to me, so you better do right by her or you’ll have to deal with me. Yeah?”
Atlas blinked several times as if stunned by Nick’s instant change of demeanor and friendly nature but shook his hand anyway. “Nice to meet you…I think.” Atlas’s tone insinuated he absolutely did not find it nice to meet Nick.
Nick clapped his hands and then did a round of the man-hug with the other guys. “Where’s Moe?” he asked just as Monet rolled up to her three-car garage.
“Right there!” I pointed to her Lexus SUV.
Moe’s sleek body exited the car looking more like a chic angel, sans the feathered wings, than a mom on the go. She wore a white ensemble of ankle-length leather pants and a shimmery white, cowl-neck sweater shirt. It had a thin gold belt cinching in at the smallest part of her waist. Man, she was stunning. The damn woman could grace any catwalk in Paris, as long as she kept her four-inch wedges on. Otherwise, she was only a few inches taller than me.
Every single man outside became dead silent, watching her strut up to the boy brigade. She walked right up to Nick and kissed his cheek.
“Hey, angel.” He gave her his usual greeting. “Where’s the cherub?”
“Playdate.”
Out of nowhere, Clay bumped Nick aside and offered his hand. “Hey, beautiful, I’m Clayton Hart. A friend of Mila’s.”
I wouldn’t say he was a friend just yet, but I wasn’t about to disagree with him for fear I’d lose the extra set of hands. Moe held his hand and smiled, a pink blush staining her cheeks. Uh-oh, looked like Moe was attracte
d to Clay. Huh.
“Clayton,” she acknowledged softly and smiled.
Clayton didn’t let go of her hand, just kept shaking it and taking in all that was my friend, as if his eyes would pop out of his head and walk all over her body in a full-body caress. Totally into her.
Nick, ever the brother, put his hand on their hands and shoved them down. “Enough touching.” He hooked his arm around Monet’s shoulder and pointed to each man. “Trent Fox, and you know Dash Alexander, and the guy who claims to be seeing our girl. Atlas Powers.”
Now that got her attention. She shrugged off Nick’s protective hold and went right up to Atlas, grabbed both his hands, and shook them. “I’m so, so, so excited to meet you. I mean, you’re the first guy of Mila’s I’ve met in forever!” she gushed.
Atlas smiled wide. “Really? A dry spell, you say.” He smirked, his gaze flicking to me. “Tell me all about it!” Atlas grinned and blew me a kiss.
I sighed. My best friend getting chatty with the guy I was sleeping with…not a good idea. As a matter of fact, it was a horrible idea. They started moving toward the entrance of the house, shoulders touching conspiratorially.
“Curly, don’t you dare run off. You promised to move me in today. Otherwise that date you want tomorrow is off.”
He frowned, and Moe smiled, her black eyes seeming to light up at the concept of a man buying me a meal.
“You’re going on a date? Like a real-life, eat-a-meal, go-to-the-movies date?” she quipped, a note of excitement accenting her words.
I slumped over at the waist and rested my hands on my thighs. “Why do I have to deal with this?” I mumbled to my feet.
“We are not going to the movies.” Atlas leaned closer to my best friend and whispered something into her ear. It must have been a mouthful because it took several moments for him to finish. All I could see was Moe’s eyes widening and her smile getting larger. That had to be good. Right?
While I was watching Atlas and Moe warily, Clayton came over to me. “Hey, so is your friend, uh, taken?”
It took me a moment to comprehend what he asked. “Oh, you mean by a man?”
“No, I mean by an alien. Of course I mean by a man. Stop worrying about what Atlas is telling her, and hook me up. Is she free?”
“Free of a man…yes. But, Clay, she’s the relationship type, not the one-night-stand type. And she’s divorced, so she’s rather picky.”
His face turned hard. “I’m sure she’s gotta eat, though. Why not do it with someone of the opposite sex?”
I sighed and shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. There was definitely a spark between you two. Couldn’t hurt to ask her out. But I warned you. She’s relationship material, and she’s got some, uh, baggage.” I hated, absolutely hated to refer to my sweet niece as baggage, but to a guy like Clay, successful and on the prowl, who probably hadn’t had a real relationship in years, that’s exactly what a single divorcée with a kid would be considered.
“What does she do?” He ignored the baggage comment altogether and kept up with me as I walked back to the truck. We both grabbed another box to bring in.
I loved seeing how men responded when I told them my BFF was a shrink. A lot of men were intimidated by it. Others were afraid she’d spend all the time analyzing him. “Psychologist and court mediator.”
“Damn. Professional and intelligent. I like it.” He bit into his lip and kept his eyes on Moe’s ass as we moved along the walkway.
I could have been nice and warned him that there was a step, but…what would be the fun in that?
Clay’s foot hit the step and he went flying. “Whoa!” he called out but, the graceful fuck that he is, caught himself right away. He didn’t even hit the ground or drop the box.
Moe, hearing someone scream, came running. She caught up to him and held him by the biceps. She grabbed the box he had and set it down at her feet. “Are you okay? Everything all right? Did you get hurt?”
He smiled and rubbed at his chest. “Just my pride, beautiful.”
Smooth. He could not have planned that better. Moe was a natural mothering type. Suited her. And by the looks of the way he was playing it up, it suited Mr. Muscle, too.
Just as I was about to move around them, Atlas caught me at the waist and tugged me sharply, his hard chest hitting my back. I tried not to lean back into his warmth but couldn’t help it. Traitorous body.
“That little scene with your friendly yogi is going to cost you,” he warned, whispering in my ear and then biting down lightly on the bit of cartilage.
I scoffed. “In what?”
“I’ll think of something diabolical and pleasurable.” He kissed me behind my ear, and my body lit up like a stick of dynamite.
“Which has a higher weight? Diabolical or pleasurable?” I grinned, liking this naughty game. Maybe seeing a guy a second time did have some advantages.
Atlas ran his lips down the side of my neck and bit down on the sensitive spot where shoulder and neck met. “I haven’t yet decided.”
Definite advantages. I bit back a moan. “Kinky,” I said, urging him to play more.
“Oh, you have no idea how kinky I can be, wildcat.”
ATLAS
“Looking forward to it. Now, can we finish?” She bumped her booty backward, rubbing right into my crotch. A tingle started at my balls, and my dick stirred with renewed hunger for the sexy wildcat.
“I need to call in some pizzas for the boy brigade.” Mila turned and hustled into the house, swaying her delectable hips with each step.
I watched her until I couldn’t see her anymore. The view of her righteous bubble butt was too much to miss, especially as she hopped up each step. I took a deep breath, turned, and went back to the truck.
Clay was standing with another set of large canvases. “Let’s do these together, eh?”
“Yeah, man. Just be careful. Her art is her life,” I cautioned.
Clay nodded and lifted one end, and we worked our way out of the back of the truck, making sure to keep the canvases high. They were covered in heavy tarp and tied off with rope. I knew these things took weeks to complete sometimes, and I didn’t want to risk even a pea-sized dent in her work. It would be the same as someone dropping my guitar. Devastating.
We maneuvered through the really large house. For one story, it was spacious, like all the homes in the area. I could see now why her friend would offer to let her move in. The place seemed rather massive for just her and a kid. Not as big as a mansion or the Richie-rich areas of Berkeley proper, but it had to have cost Monet some serious coin.
Clay and I followed the sound of Mila’s voice down a long hallway to the right side of the house. I glanced inside each door along the way to see what was near her room. Looked like an office, a guest bedroom, and a bathroom. Nice. That meant her friend’s room had to be on the other side of the house. Like a schmuck, that had me grinning because it proved that Mila would have plenty of space between her and her roomie. Excellent for overnight stays by me. Not that she’d agreed to another round of sex, but I’d wear her down eventually. Two people could not have banged the way we did, with the chemistry we shared, to leave it as a one off. No way. No how.
“Coming through,” Clay announced as he backed into the room that would be Mila’s.
“Oh no, guys, those are canvases. They go out in the garage,” Moe said, her voice laced with apology.
“No biggie. Just lead the way.”
Monet clapped her hands. “Oh goodie! I’m so excited to show you this surprise, Mila!” She opened a set of French doors that led down a small path toward the back side of the garage.
A personal entrance to her bedroom. My day just got even better.
Clay and I followed the two women. Mila’s eyes were shining, and she kept running her hand through her hair. Odd.
“Guys, can you hold off right there for a moment?” Monet pouted and held her hands up into a prayer position at her chest. “I really want to show Mila this first. If you w
ouldn’t mind?”
Clay responded before I could. “Of course, beautiful. Whatever you need.” He smiled and winked. Dude was packing on the charm.
The two of us waited near a door to the back of the garage. Monet used a key and opened it with a flourish, bringing her arms up and out, saying, “Ta-da! Your new art studio!”
Mila opened her mouth and touched her chest above her heart on entering the space.
“I wanna see.” I gestured over to the wall where we could lean the canvases. Once we leaned them gently along the side, we followed the ladies in.
Mila stood in the center of a space that was around twenty feet by twenty feet. Along one wall stood blank canvases in varying shapes and sizes. Another wall boasted myriad paints and brushes. An easel sat in the center of the room next to a workspace that had a sink in the center where Mila could wash her brushes and supplies as needed.
“Oh my God, Moe, what did you do?”
Monet grinned from ear to ear, and damn if that didn’t make the already pretty woman a knockout. Her glossy black hair swung from side to side as she showed Mila each new feature. “For your supplies, paints, and on these shelves you can store your current pieces that are drying. And then here”—she went over to an area along the back wall where a single stool sat. Next to that were a lush red velvet chair and a chaise longue that could fit two people sitting easy—“some comfy places for your art subjects to sit, lie, and so forth.”
Mila put her hand to her mouth and spoke through her fingers. “It’s too much. I can’t afford this…” she whispered.
Moe shook her head. “This is a gift, honey. Now I know you don’t like people getting you gifts, but you have to know, this is a gift for me to have you here! Knowing that someone is in our home making beautiful art…I want that for my daughter. Lily needs to see beautiful things taking shape in the world.”
Clay, who had been standing next to me, stiffened. I cast a glance his way and saw his jaw harden and his eyes go flat of any emotion. No longer were lust and excitement for the lithe Asian showing in his eyes. Then as if he just remembered he had somewhere to be, he just spun around and left, without a word.
Divine Desire: A Lotus House Novel: Book Three Page 14
