other leg extended backward, and I had to admit I was surprised at his range of motion. Sure, the man exercised every single day, but yoga was new to him. Hot yoga even more so, and yet, here he was.
For me.
A whirl of bliss spiraled up to my heart as I met his gaze—nothing but pure mischief in those dark eyes.
“Good,” I said again, clearing my throat as I focused on the rest of the class. “I’d like to end in downward-facing dog and then transition down to child’s pose.” The class followed my example, and we took several minutes in the last pose, focusing on relaxing our minds and bodies after such a challenging class.
“Thanks!” several students called to me as they exited a few minutes later. I waved to them with a smile, toweling off my face and neck.
Nixon remained sitting on his mat, his massive legs turned up at the knees, his elbows resting atop them as he smiled up at me. I headed over to him after the last student had exited.
“Can’t feel your legs enough to stand?” I teased.
He laughed. “Harder than I thought it’d be,” he admitted, and I tossed him a fresh towel.
“This coming from a man who plays through rain or snow or windstorms without batting an eye.”
“It’s different when you’re in the game,” he said, wiping at the beads of sweat that rolled down his face and neck. When he moved on to his chest, I suddenly found myself ridiculously jealous of the towel. “The adrenaline kicks in, and you don’t feel the slickness of the field or the brutal sting of the snow. There is nothing but the next snap, the next play, the next touchdown.”
I grinned, dropping to my knees on his mat. “I love it when you talk football to me.” I slid my hands over his tensed thighs. He tossed the towel to the side, his hands instantly on my hips. I leaned forward, brushing my lips over his, relishing the taste of him mixed with salt.
He groaned, his fingers exploring my waist, the bump of my belly, and up past my ribs. “Hello,” he said between my claiming kisses.
I grinned but nipped his lip. “Hi, there,” I said, teasing his bottom lip with the tip of my tongue. I pushed forward until he fell back, and put a knee on either side of him. God, he was massive, all broad, corded muscles and slick skin. And that smirk of his? Heaven.
“You missed me,” he said, his hands massaging my back as I continued to assault him with kisses.
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head.
“You had to,” he said. “If you’re willing to brave the smell and the sweat to kiss me.”
I smiled down at him, tangling my fingers in his hair. It wasn’t like we’d been apart for a massive length of time, but between my Breaking Boundaries city internship, classes, and teaching this class, not to mention his practices and games, I’d seen less and less of him. And my heart had practically leaped into my throat when he’d showed up for my evening class.
“I love the way you smell,” I said honestly. Didn’t matter if the man was fresh off a game or a shower, he always smelled mouthwatering to me. “And your sweat doesn’t bother me.”
“Cleary,” he said, lightly smacking my ass.
“Cocky as ever,” I teased, shaking my head and tugging on his hair a little harder. He growled, and before I could blink, my spine gently kissed the mat, and he settled easily between my legs. The yoga pants I donned left only a thin barrier between us, and I groaned from the sweet pressure of him.
He kissed down my neck, over my breasts, and hovered over my bump. He grinned up at me as he slowly pushed my tank top up and up until he could see my belly. “Hi, baby,” he said, and chills raced over my skin. “How’d you like hot yoga tonight?” He planted a kiss on my tummy before lightly resting his ear on it, and I swore my heart expanded ten sizes. “I agree,” he said, nodding like he was having a conversation with his daughter. He flashed me a wicked look, tugging my shirt back down. “Little whoosh thinks you should lose the Half Moon pose. Not everyone is that flexible.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I told you to modify it. It’s not my fault you didn’t listen.”
He shrugged, kissing his way back up to my