Breathless (Yoga in the City Book 1)

by Leigh LaValle

  “Jake,” a woman called out. She was tall and beautiful and knew him well enough to grab his arm. “Jake. I didn’t know you were in town.”

  He stopped and turned to her with a smile. My smile.

  I hung back and let the crowd wash between us. He glanced in my direction, but I was hiding. Disappearing. She was pulling his arm again, her perfect mouth and perfect teeth forming a perfect smile. He kissed her on the cheek. And I could tell, it was just obvious, that they’d had sex. Something about how they touched each other, there was a casualness to it. And something about the way she was looking at him, and the way he puffed up just a bit.

  I slipped around to the side, around the crowd, then out the door. I didn’t want to watch. I stopped a few feet away from the door and wrapped my arms around myself.

  This was casual.

  He was leaving town soon.

  My emotions could not get involved.

  He was my practice boyfriend.

  “Hey.” He came up behind me and put his arm around my waist. “Sorry about that.”

  “Old girlfriend?” I should have just said Hey, no problem. He didn’t owe me anything. No promises. Just casual.

  “Um, yeah.” He studied my face, his expression serious. “Don’t disappear on me. We were having a good time.”

  “I’m not disappearing.” If only I could disappear. From myself. From my drama. I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Dinner was nice. Thank you.”

  “I’m not a player.” He squeezed my waist. “I’m still friends with most of the women I’ve dated.”

  Is that how it would be with us, when he got back from Alaska? A passing smile, a quick chat? “That’s nice.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything that I saw her,” he half growled.

  “Who says it does? Want to go get some of that junk food now?”

  He looked down at me. His eyes were big and brown and a little hurt. I leaned up and kissed his jaw. He really was a sweet man. He deserved to be loved, cherished, just as he was.

  “I like you, Hannah.” He cupped the back of my neck. “I’m kind of a fuckup, but I’m not a dick, all right?”

  “All right.”

  He pulled me closer. “Can you be my junk food? I want to eat you up.”

  There was still a slight pain in my chest. I wanted to push it away, but I didn’t. I just let it be there. “I don’t know if you can handle me. I’m pretty sweet.”

  “Yes, you are.” He kissed me, there on the bricks, with people passing by. Just a simple, perfect press of his lips against mine, his hand cradling the back of my head. Was the old girlfriend watching from the restaurant window? Was she watching and envious that I’d won? I grinned against his mouth.

  I might have been into yoga and all that, but I was also into winning.

  Jake took my hand and we strolled down the pedestrian mall. People and activity and music and flowers and sticky-fingered children passed in a blur. All I could feel was his hand in mine, and the hardness of his muscles when I brushed up against him.

  Nothing about Jake was safe. Not the way he looked at me. Not the way he touched me. And not the way he made me feel. Breathless. Achy. Restless.

  I wanted him.

  I wanted him bad.

  I had two condoms in my purse. My body throbbed, and I squeezed his hand. His broad, strong, calloused, rough hand. I wanted that hand to touch me.

  My heartbeat escalated. I had made my one mistake for the evening. Now, I had to keep my cool. No babbling. No telling him about my fantasies for our future—a boy, a girl, and a golden retriever.

  And no calling him thirty times tomorrow.

  This date, this was my yoga, my asana. The pose I needed to hold and breathe through. I just needed to feel what I was feeling, be open, and allow whatever I wanted to happen to unfold. I didn’t need to push and I didn’t need to hide.

  But I had absolutely no clue how to do that.

  He was staring at me again. Like he could see my thoughts. But he didn’t look disturbed or annoyed, merely curious. Intent. I took a breath and looked up at him.

  “Do you have any idea how many guys are checking you out?” he asked.

  I scrunched my brow. “What do you mean?”

  “That you’re gorgeous.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and hauled me up against his side.

  “I only got dressed for you.”

  “Good.” He pulled me even closer. “Hey, you’re shaking.”

  I blinked. “Am I?”

  “Are you cold?”

  I shook my head. Terrified would be a better word.

  “It’s okay.” He stopped and wrapped his warm, strong arms around me. I tucked my chin and hugged him back. He smelled so good. Warmth and spice and man.

  “We can go slow.” His voice rumbled in his chest, sending shivers down my spine.

  I pulled back and forced my lips up at the corners. “I’m good. Really.”

  We walked the rest of the way to his truck in silence. He opened my door and helped me inside.

  My stomach flip-flopped. We’d be at my house soon. What was my plan? Was I going to invite him in? Would we have sex?

  I had shaved and put my good panties on. I was ready for this.

  I clicked my seat belt with shaking hands.

  Jake slid into the driver’s seat. “Hannah.” He turned and looked at me. “You know you can tell me what’s bothering you.”

  I don’t want to get hurt.

  I looked at him. Quickly looked away. “If we do this, we need to set some kind of rules.”

  “What kind of rules?” His voice was wary.

  “Like, who is going to call who. And when. I don’t want to be sitting around, waiting for you.”

  “I don’t want you to wait for me either.” He sat back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair. “I could call you tomorrow night.”

  “Okay.” I wanted to ask him what time. I wanted there to be a window, like the cable repairman. I’ll call between seven and seven thirty. But I didn’t want to push him too far. “And what comes next? Do we just see each other at work?”

  He huffed a laugh, turned the truck on, and pulled out onto the quiet street. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

  “I’m sorry.” My inhale was shaky. “I’m…I’m not good at this. I don’t want to be all weird—”

  He put his hand on my knee. “You’re not weird. I like it. I mean, okay, it’s a little weird. But I can deal. You’re worth it.”

  He squeezed my leg, and my heart slammed against my ribs.

  “We’ll figure this out together, all right? If you want a schedule, or rules, or know what to expect, I can do that. I like you, Hannah. I like you like you.” He flashed me a smile. “I just usually, you know, go with the flow in these situations.”

  “I don’t do flow very well.”

  He turned left at the stop sign. We’d be at my house soon. “You’re a yoga teacher. You’re supposed to be all about flow. Life is a river and all that.”

  “Do you know where rivers go? Over waterfalls. And smashing into rocks. They get sucked out into the ocean and disappear.”

  He looked at me from the corner of his eye. “That sounds menacing.”

  We turned onto my street. I tried to slow down my breath. “If I have to go with an element, I go with wood. You can cut it into nice, usable, uniform pieces. Build things with it. Like houses. And places to sit down. And it smells good.”

  He pulled over in front of my house. “And it burns. Have you ever seen a wildfire?”

  I swallowed and shook my head. I’d never seen one, but I knew about wildfire, spreading through the roots. Licking up the sides of the trees. “I think my main element is air. Not just air, but wind. I just get blown this way and that. Never settling down.” I turned toward him. It was important he understood this. “I want to settle down. Not like white-picket-fence stuff. But just, being in one place. Making friends. Having community. Belonging. I feel like
I could have that at Bloom, and I don’t want to jeopardize it.”

  “I want that for you too.” He leaned across the stick shift and kissed me on the forehead. “You’re something special, Hannah Roberts.”

  Or something crazy.

  He sat back. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

  I rubbed my sweaty palms on my wrap. “Me too. You’re a great date.” I winked at him, reaching for lightness.

  “I like it when you smile,” he said.

  I unclicked my seat belt but didn’t get out.

  Should I invite him inside?

  Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No.

  “I’ll walk you to your door.” He turned off the truck and got out.

  I opened my door and walked up the steps to my house. How much wine did I drink? I couldn’t feel my feet. Was I that nervous?

  Jake took my elbow. “So camping this weekend?”

  “Yes! We can talk about it tomorrow. I’ll be at the studio most of the day. I have three classes and some paperwork to take care of. And the bathrooms need to be cleaned and the volunteer girl isn’t pulling her weight. Plus, we need to—”

  “I’ll find you,” he cut in, his eyes smiling.

  I stopped at my front door and searched my purse for my keys. It was a small bag but was suddenly a magical black hole with nothing but air and junk inside. I’d become Hermione. If only I could use a silencing charm on myself.

  He stepped up on my front porch and leaned a shoulder against the doorframe.

  “I’ll text the girls about the weekend. I’m sure they’ll be interested. Thanks again for inviting us.” Finally, my keys.

  “I’m not going to come in.”

  “No?” My keys landed at my feet.

  He bent down and picked them up. Took my hand and placed the keys in my palm. “Not tonight.”

  His palm engulfed mine; it almost made me feel delicate. Almost.

  “Just come in for a moment?” For a kiss.

  He didn’t say anything, just searched my face. I pulled my hand away, fumbled with the lock, and opened the door. With a glance over my shoulder, I pushed the door wide so he would come in after me. I dropped my keys and purse on the side table, switched on the small lamp, and left the rest of the house dark.

  Then I turned around to face him, rubbing my hands together.

  He stood in the half shadows, his face hard, his gaze on mine. Light cut across his left cheekbone and jaw. Cast the rest of him in darkness.

  Sometimes I forgot just how large he was. He stood in my entryway, filling up the space, turning my world on its axis. My small home was shifting around him, accommodating him, embracing him.

  Any box I put this man into needed sides of steel. Any boundaries I erected could be deep as the Grand Canyon, wide as the Pacific Ocean, and still he would breach them.

  He was muscle and power and exuded a force of his own.

  My sharp breaths sliced through the small space. My heart was racing, my lungs fighting to keep up.

  No way out but through.

  I closed the distance between us. Placed my open palm on his chest. He inhaled swiftly. Hard as iron. His eyes lost in the shadow.

  God, this man.

  His white dress shirt was warm and smooth. Luxurious fabric over rigid muscle. I leaned up on my tiptoes and slid my other hand around the back of his neck. Short hairs prickled my palm and sent a shiver down my spine.

  My toes curled in my shoes. He was heat and spice and power. I licked my lips. Pulled his mouth down to mine. And kissed him.

  Soft. Soft press of my lips. I slid my mouth across his, and a thousand nerve endings lit up. My legs, my belly, my chest, my arms, my mouth. Even my scalp shivered. I was awake. Roaring awake. Everywhere.

  I slid my hand up his chest to his thick shoulder and pressed into him. Pressed my softness into his hardness.

  Breath shuddered out of him. And finally, finally, he touched me.

  He bent his knees, splayed his palm over the back of my thigh, then slid up, dragging my silk dress with him.

  “You’re killing me in this dress,” he growled against my mouth. “I’ve wanted to touch you here all night.”

  He rested his palm on the top of my thigh, just below the curve of my ass.

  A shudder jerked through me. He nipped my ear, and I gasped.

  “Yes, Hannah. I got you.” His breath was hot against my ear. He slid his hand up higher, over my ass.

  I squirmed, pressed my thighs together around the pulsing at my core. My sexy, silky panties were wet.

  One hand holding my dress up, he ran his other hand over my thong and slipped a finger inside the fabric. His cock was hard against my belly. My head too heavy, I dropped my forehead onto his shoulder. He unzipped the back of my dress, just enough the straps fell off my shoulders. Then he grabbed my hips and pressed me back to the wall. It was cold and steady behind me.

  The left side of my dress slipped down below my nipple.

  “Upstairs?” I breathed, trying to touch him.

  He shook his head. Pressed my hands against the wall and lowered his mouth to my nipple.

  Pleasure arched through me. Pulled me up to his mouth like a string. The back of my head hit the wall.

  His palm found the curve of my knee. Slid upward. Over my panties. He slipped his finger under the fabric and groaned against my skin. Then dragged his finger through my folds, slick and hot.

  My knees buckled. He caught me. Held me up with one hand on my ribs while the other played with me.

  “Yes, Hannah,” he said again, leaning back to look down the length of me. “Let me touch you.”

  I closed my eyes. Overwhelmed.

  His teeth grazed my nipple, and his finger brushed my clit.

  “God, Jake!” I cried out, grabbing his head, sinking my fingers into his hair.

  He did it again. Pleasure whipped through me. I bit my lip. Tried to find something to hold on to in the storm.

  “You are so fucking sexy,” he growled, nudging the other side of my dress down.

  My heart knocked against my ribs. I couldn’t catch my breath.

  This was crazy. Wild and intense. I had to find something—

  “Ahhh…” I gasped. His finger inside me.

  He let out a ragged breath. Grazed his teeth over my nipple. Circled my clit with his thumb. And I came apart right there. In my front hall. Half undressed.

  I dropped my head, every muscle taut, and rode out the storm of pleasure in stunned silence.

  “You’re gorgeous.” He dropped my skirt, pulled the straps of my dress up to my shoulders, and stepped back.

  Then, he was gone.

  Chapter 20

  Jake

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  I banged my head backward against the headrest. I had a rager that was not going to go away. My hands ached from gripping the steering wheel. And I couldn’t unclench my jaw.

  I had just given myself a terrible case of blue balls.

  I was a fucking idiot.

  My tires squealed around the corner. I pressed on the gas. Wind whipped through the open windows. Speed wasn’t enough.

  I could be inside Hannah. Pumping into her hot wetness. Licking her.

  Fuck.

  She had come apart in my arms. And her face. God.

  I skidded to a stop in my parking spot, slammed the truck door, and charged into my house. I went right to the gym. Green Day blasting from the speakers, I whipped off my clothes, down to my boxers, cranked up the speed on the treadmill, and ran like my life depended on it.

  She wasn’t a girl to date and discard. She wasn’t a just-for-thrills kind of girl. She wanted more than that. She deserved more. And I couldn’t give it to her.

  But fuck if I was going to walk away now.

  That zing I got around her, it was like a drug. And I was addicted.

  Somehow, I had to make it work. The short-term-dating thing. The friends with benefits. I would be clear that when I left, I l
eft. But while I was here, she was all mine.

  First things first, I was going to fuck her every way and then again. I was going to make her come so hard, she would scream. And then again. And again.

  I cranked up the speed faster.

  Chapter 21

  Hannah

  Newsflash: it’s difficult to breathe at 14,000 feet.

  But, then, I was still breathless from my date with Jake, even days later.

  Jake. I couldn’t get him off my mind. Crazy sexy Jake and the big orgasm.

  The man was driving me wild.

  My eyes darted over to him as they’d done all day. He was dressed in a tight-fitting shirt that hugged his chest, cargo shorts, hiking boots, and sunglasses. He looked like an ad for a sexy wilderness man.

  My sexy wilderness man.

  He’d been intense and quiet all day, and I didn’t know what was going on inside his head. Last I’d seen him, he’d been half shadow and full sexy. Was he upset about Thursday night?

  Upset he didn’t get to come, probably. But I could set that straight. We were camping out tonight, and I just might sneak into his tent later.

  Laughter drifted over the steady, high alpine breeze. Crystal, Jennifer, and Annette bounced around the summit like the altitude was nothing. And Jake’s crew followed them like puppies. As I anticipated, my yoga girls were thrilled at the invite to go camping, even if they had to go with the construction crew that was ruining our studio.

  They were into yoga and forgiveness and peace and love and all that.

  Whatever.

  I stood off to the side, sucking breath, my lungs burning, and my mind full of dirty thoughts.

  Jake. He stood a few yards away, looking out at the open sky.

  I tripped over to him, drinking him in, glad he didn’t wear pants to hide his ragged scars. His legs were sexy just as they were.

  “I don’t like those clouds,” he said, gazing out over the valley as I approached. “We need to head down and make camp.”

  It was a beautiful Saturday, with wide-open blue skies. A few puffy clouds drifted off in the distance. What was the worry? And, more important, what was the hurry? It was gorgeous up here, and I needed a rest.