Chapter Eleven #2
“What am I supposed to do?”
The corner of my lips tilts up. Most of the women are there to watch him, but he’s too oblivious to notice or maybe he doesn’t care.
“You get to help me do the poses and once the goats are released, I’ll walk ’round with treats while you keep showin’ ’em what to do.”
“If I dunno how to do ’em, how am I gonna help?”
“It’s a good thing I have cheat cards. So, c’mon, little Silas. Wakey wakey.” I give his lower stomach a pat.
He quickly covers his morning wood but not before I see it.
I stare at his slutty thigh tattoo, wondering how badly it’d drive him crazy if I touched or licked it.
Oh God, who said that?
“I’m so gettin’ you back for this,” he mumbles, reaching for the blankets.
“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, I’ll even make your coffee for ya.”
“Okay, deal.”
I smirk when he finally gets up.
After we hurry out of the house and load up the goats, we drive to the Branch Haven.
“Why’re you so grumpy?” I ask, noticing the deep wrinkle lines on his forehead when he opens the gate for me.
“I didn’t have time to stretch and everythin’ already hurts.” He moves his neck from side to side. “My thighs still hurt from ridin’ yesterday.”
“And this is why you didn’t get to wear a cowboy hat,” I quip. “You’re too city boy.”
“I still work blue collar, doesn’t that count for anythin’?”
“You get brownie points for not being a total amateur. But let’s see how you manage today.”
I pat his chest before moving past him to set up our yoga mats. Since we don’t need the goats right away, we keep them in the crates until it’s time.
“Here.” I hand him notecards of yoga poses. “Just follow me for the first part of class. Most of ’em will be distracted by the goats to pay attention to you anyway, so don’t worry.”
“I can’t even pronounce half of these…” He flips through them. “And definitely cannot get my body to move like that.”
I snort at how dramatic he sounds. “If you’re vanilla, just say that.”
He frowns. “I am not.”
“Coulda fooled me,” I quip, my cheeks heating at how intense he’s staring at me.
He leans in closer, whispering hoarsely in my ear, “This might be inappropriate, so let’s consider this as me providin’ information to change your mind.”
Swallowing hard, I lick my lips and don’t move a muscle while he’s mere centimeters away.
“I may not be a true cowboy who’s worked countless hours under the sun, trained horses, or hand-milked goats for years, but I could effortlessly kneel between your thighs for hours without breakin’ a sweat and still have enough stamina to make you finish five times before comin’ up for air.
I may not be good at plankin’ or downward dog, or hell, even horseback ridin’, but I’d fill you so goddamn deep, there ain’t any amount of stretchin’ that’d prepare you for the positions I’d put your body in.
In fact, you’d be the one walkin’ funny the next day. ”
My stomach twists at the way his voice deepens and wraps seductively around each word, making my heart rate kick up and my throat too dry to speak.
How the hell did he just whip those words out without a second thought?
“So you can continue callin’ me a city boy by your standards, but you have firsthand proof I’m anythin’ but vanilla.”
When I finally get the courage to look at him, he winks. Before I can find my voice to reply, people arrive for class.
We greet them as they walk in and roll out their mats. I sit on mine, stretch out my legs, and reach my toes. Silas does the same, groaning as he struggles to lean all the way.
I keep a smile plastered on as I inch toward him so no one notices my sexual frustrations. “Just know I’m gonna pay you back for sayin’ that to me right before havin’ to do this.”
“Why?” He waggles his brows. “Are your panties soaked?”
“Silas!” I hiss, nudging his arm.
He’s far too amused.
“Just remember you started it.”
“How so?”
“You called me vanilla. A man has every right to defend himself when being told they’re borin’ in bed.”
“I never said that,” I argue between gritted teeth.
“You did.”
More people arrive and soon the class is full, so we’ll have to finish this conversation later.
But he’s about to be in tears after I put him through the intermediate positions.
Once I welcome everyone and explain that I’m taking over for Mila today, we start in Sukhasana pose to get everyone calm and relaxed. Then I lead them into mountain pose and walk them through breathing exercises.
“I’m sweatin’ my ass off,” Silas murmurs fifteen minutes later.
It’s been comical watching him mirror everything I do, but at least he’s trying.
“Can I take off my shirt?” he whispers.
“What? No.”
“Why not? Y’all are in sports bras.”
If he does, they’re all going to be distracted and gawk at him.
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Well, too bad.” He reaches behind his neck, and in one smooth motion, yanks his T-shirt off. As soon as his tattoos are revealed, numerous women’s eyes widen in appreciation.
Silas uses his shirt to wipe his face and neck before glancing at me with a shit-eating smirk.
Shaking my head, I glare.
You just wait, city boy.
I direct the class into the camel pose, but this time, I stand so I can walk around and check everyone’s posture.
“Keep your hips over your knees when you lean back,” I tell Silas. “Touch your toes.”
“I’m tryin’…” He grunts. “I’m not made to bend this way.”
Standing in front of him, I smirk at him being on his knees.
“How’s your stamina now, cowboy?”
“This proves nothin’.”
“Keep your chest forward and move your hips out,” I instruct.
“Yeah, that ain’t happenin’.”
“Just so you know…” I lower my voice and inch closer so only he can hear me. “You ain’t hidin’ anythin’ in those sweats.”