Chapter Eight
J ane
Sweat trailed down Jane’s back, soaking the straps of her sports bra and sinking into the top of her baby blue yoga pants.
She offered several variations of yoga at her studio— Serenity Now .
Beginner yoga. Yoga sculpt. Gentle yoga.
Flow yoga. Restorative. But something about hot yoga reached her soul.
She never felt more cleansed than she did after teaching or taking a hot yoga class.
She sat cross legged on her mat, facing the class.
Everyone laid supine in savasana, recuperating from her vigorous flow.
What used to be primarily a class of only women had blossomed into several men joining a year or so ago when Serenity Now offered a special for men to join.
Men hadn’t rushed the studio. But a new guy or two trickled in every week. The classes were a good mix.
“Come back to your body,” she murmured. “Start by wiggling your fingers and your toes.”
Typically, Kerri taught the 7:00 PM class. She liked her evenings free. But tonight, she’d volunteered. She was too restless to sit still.
Ever since New Year’s with Brady, her body hummed. A fire burned low and steady in her veins, refusing to die out. She wanted more. Needed more.
But Brady seemed hell-bent on rebuilding the wall between them. Every time they got close, he pulled back. Like he was scared of what they could be. Or worse ... convinced it couldn’t happen at all.
“Move your head side to side, loosening your neck.” Everyone obeyed. “Now roll to one side. And when you’re ready, push to sitting. Sit however you’d like. Cross-legged. On your knees. Whatever works for you.”
She waited as the class moved into their comfortable seat. Sweat poured from everyone, one of the reasons she required towels over everyone’s yoga mats. This class was no joke. She’d mop the floor once everyone left.
“Thank you for joining me this evening. Take a breath in.” She raised her arms over her head as she inhaled a deep humid breath. The class followed suit. Bringing her palms together, she lowered them to her chest as she exhaled. “Namaste.” She bowed forward.
“Namaste.”
The class moved about, rolling up their mats, wiping sweat from their foreheads.
She rose and did the same. Once everyone filed out of the studio, she locked the door.
She wandered back into the studio and cleaned the floors.
Moving behind the counter in the lobby, she closed out the day on the computer.
She could jump in the shower in the women’s locker room. Or she could just wait until she got home. Her sweat cooled in the air-conditioned lobby, causing the hair on her arms to stand.
A tap sounded on the glass door. She startled. It was well past dark outside. Did someone forget something? When she looked up from the computer, her gaze clashed with Brady’s. She sucked in a breath. What was he doing here?
He stood at the door. His dark hair lay disheveled. It had been a week since she’d seen him and it looked as if it had been that long since he’d slept. Dark circles hovered under his eyes.
She walked over to the door and unlocked it. He pulled it open and walked inside.
“Lock it.”
She twisted the lock and turned to face him. Even exhausted, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on.
“What are you doing here?” After everything that had occurred between them, she still fidgeted like a girl nervous for her first kiss.
“I can’t stay away. I can’t shake you, Princess. Why is that?”
A small smile split her lips. This is what she’d always wanted. To pull him in. To make him want her as much as she wanted him. For him to see they were meant to be.
He moved toward her, eating up the space between them quickly. His mouth came down on hers as his arms pulled her to him. He trailed his tongue down the side of her neck. “So salty. So good.”
His presence had made her completely forget that she’d just finished a yoga class where she’d sweated half her weight. “I’m sorry.” She tried to pull out of his embrace but he held her tight. “I taught hot yoga tonight. I was going to shower.”
“Do you think there is any way you could be that I wouldn’t want?” He lifted his head to look at her, his eyebrow cocked.
“I’m nasty.”
He smashed his mouth on hers.
“The only thing nasty,” he growled against her lips, “is what I’m about to do to you.
” In one swift motion, he lifted her, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried her through the studio like he’d been there a hundred times.
And in a way, he had. He’d never stepped foot in one of her classes, but he’d helped paint the walls, hang the mirrors, install the shelves—back when it was just a dream she was building.
He shoved open the locker room door with his back. Inside, one wall was lined with sleek metal lockers. He pressed her against the cool metal, the contrast to her heat making her gasp.
His mouth left hers, trailing along her jaw, down her neck, across the slight swell of her chest. Then he tugged her sports bra down, baring her to him completely.
When his warm mouth covered her nipple, she moaned and ground her core into his pelvis. He licked and sucked one then the other. Her fingers tangled in his hair.
Releasing her nipple with a flick of his tongue, he lowered her to the ground and turned her to face the lockers.
She braced herself, palms pressed flat against the cool indigo metal, her breath shaky.
“I’m trying,” he rasped against her ear, his voice low and frayed, “so fucking hard to get you out of my system.” He pressed his chest into her back, his heat surrounding her.
One hand slid over her hip, dipping into the front of her yoga pants with practiced ease.
His fingers found her clit, gliding over it in a slow, maddening stroke before slipping through her slick folds.
“But I can’t stop thinking about this.” He thrust a finger inside her, then another, drawing a gasp from her throat.
“The way you come undone.” A groan tore from his chest. “The way it feels to be with you.” He curled his fingers, teasing a cry from her. “Like I’m finally fucking whole.”
That comment pierced her heart. That he thought he wasn’t whole or couldn’t be whole broke her. It made her want to make him feel complete all the time.
She arched her back and cried out. He knew how to bring her to the edge of bliss.
“Brady.”
“I love when you say my name. It sounds like a prayer and you know I’ve never been one to hold much faith. But with you...”
Her head lolled on his shoulder. Her hips rode his hand.
He rolled his finger over her clit, then thrust back into her. “Come, Jane.”
She detonated like a bomb. Her legs gave out, his hold on her the only reason she remained upright. “Oh, God.” Her pussy spasmed around his finger. In all her years, no one had brought her to such an earth-shattering orgasm as he had over the last week. He’d ruined her for any other man.
With one hand, he undid his buckle and unzipped his pants. “I need to be inside you. Now.” She wanted nothing more. She’d take him anyway she could
Gaining her footing, she pushed down her yoga pants and panties. “Take me.” She leaned into the lockers, her legs spread.
He accepted her invitation, lining his cock up with her opening and plunging inside. “Fuck,” he growled.
She grunted. The force of his thrust, the feel of her body stretching to accommodate him felt divine.
He leaned his forehead against her shoulder. His chest heaved with ragged breaths. “You are keeping me up at night. I can’t stop thinking about you, how perfect you feel, how perfect you make me feel.”
Her heart squeezed. She wanted to be his everything. “Move,” she grunted.
He straightened, tugged her hair free of its tie and wrapped it around his hand. “Is this what you want?” He pistoned into her at a breakneck speed. His hips slammed into her, forcing her breasts against the metal of the lockers.
“Yes.”
He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. There may be bruises there tomorrow. She didn’t care. She loved when he lost control. When he gave into his desire, his need for her. He only had one-night stands, but not with her. They were more.
“Fuck, Princess. I’m going to come so fucking hard. You make me lose my mind.” He reached a hand around to her front and rubbed her clit. “Come on my cock. Come with me.”
And she did. Spectacularly so.