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Right again. Amaya needs some time to settle in. I know she loves the Golden Sequoia Estate and she’s already voiced her fears about losing her job. Tanya says she’s fitting in nicely with the team. I’m getting nothing but praise from her clients—she’s exceptionally skilled at providing them a great yoga session, making them feel like they’re getting their money’s worth.
If we’re truly going to try and pursue something with her, we need a game plan.
5
Amaya
This is it.
The day I knew would come. A day I both dreaded and breathlessly waited for. A private session with Kace, Finn, and Elias. It was only a matter of time; Tanya had mentioned it more than once—how the guys love their yoga stretches. They try to fit in one or two sessions per week on top of their strength and cardio workouts. I’ve been feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, constantly waiting for that truck to ram into me as I pretend everything is okay. I don’t know why I feel so vulnerable. It’s probably because of the glances that Kace keeps stealing at me while he and the guys do their warm-up stretches.
The memory of the other night lingers in the back of my head, making it hard for me to focus. It was incredible, yet it was also the biggest mistake I could’ve made.
But it’s too late to take any of it back, and I can’t let it dictate how the dynamic will further evolve between us.
“Alright, are we ready?” I ask, putting on the brightest smile that I can muster.
Well aware that my dusty pink tights and matching top bring out my curvaceous features, I try to keep a reasonable distance from them. They’re my bosses, and my dirtiest sexual fantasies to date.
I shake the thought away as Kace, Finn, and Elias take their spots on their yoga mats. The studio is empty, sunlight flooding in through the wide windows.
“We were born ready,” Finn quips.
Damn it’s hard to focus. Three incredibly hot men. Tight black tank tops. Their athletic figures on full display, along with some of their tattoos and battle scars. Each body tells a story, and each body fascinates me in equal measure.
I want to see more.
Kace is brawny with long limbs, tall, dashing and light on his feet. Elias is shorter and slightly stocky, but he’s all heavy muscle and pure strength, while Finn is nimbler and faster with a wiry frame, chiseled muscles everywhere. Each is a work of art.
This is going to be a long session.
“Good, let’s get you started with the downward facing dog, then,” I say, hands on my hips as I find a sense of refuge on my bright red yoga mat, about ten feet away from them. Oriental lounge music trickles through the wall-mounted speakers. “Hold for thirty seconds.”
Kace raises an eyebrow at me. “You’re not gonna do it?”
“I’m the instructor,” I reply.
“What if I don’t know how to do it? You need to instruct me then.”
It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been doing yoga for years, of course you know how to do it.”
“What our partner is trying to say is that this isn’t just a regular session,” Finn cuts in with a playful smile. “We’re sampling the goods, so to speak, like our estate clients would. I think we’d like to see the full service, if you don’t mind. Feel free to get handsy, if, of course, that’s what you typically do,” he adds.
“Handsy? Wow, no, I don’t get handsy,” I reply, my face flushed mainly because the thought had already crossed my guilty, dirty mind.
“A yoga instructor that doesn’t get handsy? Interesting,” Finn shoots back, prompting a chuckle out of Kace.
“He’s just pulling your leg,” Kace says. “But joking aside, I would appreciate it if you could do the poses with us. We’re just trying to get a feel for what the clients experience when they attend one of your sessions.”
“It’s easier to recommend to others when we can describe it from first-hand knowledge, Elias adds.
For a moment, I find myself trapped in the dark pools of his eyes. I take a deep breath and get into position. “Alright, then. I’ll do the poses with you. Downward dog first. Slowly descend…”
“Make sure to come over and correct us if you need to,” Finn reminds me.
“It really is going to be a long session,” I grumble, trying hard not to laugh while I’m halfway through my stretch. “Come on, fellas, downward.”
An hour can go by exceptionally slowly when the room is flooded with sexual tension. I’m doing my best to keep a professional demeanor, but it’s hard when I feel their eyes studying every line and curve of my body during each of the poses.
