Doc (Club Alias #7) - K.D. Robichaux Page 0,21

from above, and use the inside of my arms to press my breasts up and together as I twist the cap back on the water.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, and I giggle as I put the water down next to the mirror and back away on my hands and knees until I’m on my yoga mat once more.

“Oh, it’s not that bad, ya big baby,” Destinee calls, and I let out a single snort of laughter as I get back to what she’s instructing.

With my newfound bit of confidence, the rest of the class passes much faster. Me finding methods to bend and move in a way that I know is making Neil sweat more than what he would just by doing the workout. I barely notice how hotly my muscles burn, because my mind is elsewhere, showing off for him, my muscle memory dusting itself off and clearly yelling Put me in, Coach! I balance, and lift on my toes, and bend, and twist, getting into the moves like Destinee is, instead of just doing them stiffly and carefully.

But it’s not until she has us stand facing forward on the mats, our legs as wide as we’re comfortable with, and then tells us to place our palms flat on the floor that I know all my teasing was a mistake.

“Now, using your hands on the mat, walk your palms backward through your legs and try to touch the back of your mat, puuulling your head closer to the floor,” she instructs, and I sink lower, concentrating on my breathing… until I feel it.

My eyes pop open, and from upside down and between my wide-legged straddle, I see Neil watching me, his eyes molten blue lava as he stares at my ass.

No.

Not at my ass.

As he licks his lips and his nostrils flare, sweat dripping profusely down his temples, his white tee clinging to his ripped, huge body as he sits on his mat, the bottle of water halfway lifted to his lips but stopped midair, I know he’s not just staring at my ass.

He’s staring at the very center of me. The core of my body, and from his eye level and nearness, I know… I just know… he can see I’m wet, and not from sweat. And from the way he breathes in deep, his eyes going half-mast, I have to wonder if he can even smell my arousal. The arousal I caused my-damn-self by taunting him, provoking him, showing off for him for no other reason than I love how he looks at me in that heated way. A way no man has ever looked at me before—like he wants to eat me alive and protect me all at once.

I barely hear it when Destinee urges, “Keep breathing, and just sink into that position.” And it’s a good thing, because it makes me realize I was holding my breath while I stared at Neil, staring at my pussy.

I feel lightheaded, and not because I’m turned upside down on my head. I used to hold this position in a handstand for minutes on end. It’s because the look on his face doesn’t do anything to hide just how tightly he’s having to white-knuckle grip the reins of his control, because he clearly—oh… so clearly—wants to either launch himself forward face-first or take hold of my hips and pull me back toward his awaiting mouth.

“Great job, y’all,” Destinee says, and there’s a collective exhale throughout the room as everyone relaxes down onto their mats.

I bend my knees and sink down onto my ass, my heart thrashing inside my chest as the sexual tension and workout catch up with me. I sit cross-legged, risking a glance into the mirror to see Neil behind me, staring straight ahead at me, and I blink and snap my attention forward, listening as Destinee walks us through a cooldown routine.

Unfortunately, it does nothing to cool down anything but my arms and legs, because everything from my mind down to the very core of me is still fired up, since I can’t get the look on Neil’s face out of my head. Even when she has us lie down and sink into a savasana for the last few minutes of class, I can’t relax into corpse pose and clear my mind, because when I close my eyes and even out my breathing, it makes me picture him even more clearly.

Chapter 5

Astrid

Neil and I don’t speak a word to each other on the way out of the class.

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