Breathless (Yoga in the City Book 1)

by Leigh LaValle

  “You were snoring.” She giggled.

  “I don’t snore.”

  “Of course not.” Her face was lit up like she was happy. I wanted her to be happy.

  “So, tonight, then?” I asked.

  “Love to. What were you thinking of?”

  You naked. “Anything.”

  “Anything going on tonight in town?”

  I glanced toward the window. My ex, the one I’d run into at The Table last week, had called about a band playing tonight. She wanted to get together, which meant sex. Usually I’d take her up on it—we had a great friends-with-benefits thing going. But all I wanted was Hannah.

  “How about dinner? I could use a steak.” A steak and then sex with Hannah. The perfect Friday night.

  Wrong thing to say. All the happiness drained from her face. “My funds are kind of tight right now.”

  “That’s okay. My treat.” But the stress was still there. “Hey, what’s going on?”

  She shrugged. “Just studio stuff. We’re not really making a profit right now. We have one noon class that Crystal teaches that makes money, but other than that, we’re just sinking.”

  I wanted to take the sadness off her. “Because of the noise?”

  She glanced at me and then away. “Yeah. We’ll cover the studio bills this month but have a hard time paying ourselves.”

  I tapped my hand on my knee. “We just need to get through this last push.” Maybe I could talk to my subcontractors again. They’d love that. We were all on a tight schedule.

  “I’ve been thinking about a part-time job. Something other than yoga.” She dropped her head. Was she crying?

  Usually this would be my cue to leave. Tears freaked me out. I invariable said the wrong thing and made the situation worse. But no part of me wanted to walk away from her.

  “Hey.” I lifted her chin so I could meet her eyes. Her hair was soft against the back of my hand as I brushed it over her shoulder. “You all right?”

  She smiled, but it wobbled. “I’m just stressed. I still have no idea what to do for Yoga Week.”

  “Can’t you just teach yoga?”

  “It has to be something special. Something that stands out from the crowd. I don’t have anything. That’s the problem. I’m just me.”

  “I think you stand out from the crowd. You’ve helped me. And the world is full of people with messed-up knees and aching backs and weird necks. Can’t you teach something for us. The rest of us non-yoga people?”

  “I was thinking about something along those lines, but it sounds so boring.”

  “Nothing boring about helping people manage chronic pain.” I tipped her chin up. Met her gaze. This was important, and she needed to hear it. “You got a lot of good stuff inside you, Hannah. You just have to share it.”

  Chapter 23

  Hannah

  “You got a lot of good stuff inside you, Hannah. You just have to share it.”

  The guy was too sweet. Too sexy. Too fun. I was so screwed.

  That night, Jake took me out for steak. Warm with wine and laughter, I watched him eat enough for three people. Then, we went back to his place. He told me there was nothing for me to see at his condo but outdoor gear and bare walls. I wanted to see it anyway.

  We drove up the foothills and pulled into a condo complex. He parked in the guest parking.

  “My garage is full of bikes and kayaks and mountaineering equipment,” he explained as he locked his truck. “So, I park out here.”

  His condo was butted up against the foothills, an end unit with two decks and awesome views. He opened his front door, modern with glass and steel, and flipped on the lights.

  “No dog?” I asked, stepping inside.

  “I’m not home enough.”

  We went up a flight of stairs to the main floor. I looked around greedily, wanting to discover as much as I could about this guy. First off, he had some cash to afford this place. Second, he wasn’t big into decorating. His condo was bare, yet it still felt like a home.

  He glanced back at me. “I don’t usually bring people back here.”

  Women. He meant he didn’t bring his other dates back to his condo. So, why me?

  I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and he flipped off the lights so I could see outside. The mountains were dark shapes, but the stars shone bright in the sky.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  Mellow music filled the room, and I bit back a smile. Jake was seducing me, with the low lights and sexy songs. And I was all for it.

  He came up behind me and pulled me back against him. His cock was already hard. I closed my eyes and leaned back into him. Letting him have me.

  “I’ve been thinking of this all week,” he growled in my ear.

  Shivers ran down my spine. “Me too.”

  I started to turn around, but he held me there, pressed between his body and the window. No one could see us, just the squirrels and the deer and the stars.

  He took my hand, wrapped my arm up around the back of his neck, then nuzzled my ear. He skimmed his fingers down over the side of my breast, down over my waist.

  “You’ve been watching Dirty Dancing,” I panted, my eyes closed, my legs trembling.

  “What?”

  “Patrick Swayze.”

  “Hmm?” His voice was more vibration than sound. Both hands on my hips now, he ground against me. His cock was thick and ready. I had done that to him. I arched back against him, feeling powerful and feminine.

  With a muttered curse, he pulled me back a step and nudged my feet wide. His hand between my shoulder blades, he pressed my torso forward so I was bent at the waist. My hands were on the window, my ass up in the air.

  It was so fucking hot. I throbbed, low and hard.

  “You all right?”

  “Don’t stop.” My breaths were jagged and fast.

  “Right answer.” He slipped one hand over my panties, finding the tight bundle of nerves that ached for his touch. The other hand cupped my breast. I arched my back. He played with me like that, over the soft fabric of my dress and thong, until my head fell forward and my legs trembled.

  Then he swept me up into his arms and marched me…somewhere. Across the room, up a flight of stairs (he was barely even breathing hard) and down a short hallway. We walked through a wide doorway, and he tossed me down on his bed. By the time I gathered myself together and sat up, he was flinging his clothes around his room. Then he was naked.

  Gorgeous, gorgeous man.

  I clambered off the bed, unzipped my sundress, and let it fall to my feet. He stopped to stare. Suddenly nervous, I laid the dress on the chair by the window and turned to face him.

  His cock was hard and jutting forward. I swallowed, shy, turned on, nervous, ravenous.

  “Now it’s my turn.” Was that my voice? “Stand there.”

  I walked toward him. His eyes—dark and focused—made me feel like something beautiful, something powerful. I dropped to my knees. I’d never loved giving blowjobs—they called it a job for a reason—but I wanted to taste him. And I wanted to make him so turned on, he didn’t know which way was up.

  “Hannah, I—”

  I licked him from balls to tip, and he shut up. I took him in my mouth as deep as I could and sucked.

  He swore, long and hard, and pressed his hips toward me.

  I wrapped my hand around the thick base of his cock and pumped, my mouth still at his tip.

  “Not tonight,” he panted, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me up to my feet. “I can’t last, and I need to be inside you.”

  “On your back, then.” I wanted to take charge. To give him pleasure, this man who would turn my world on its axis and become my sun.

  He lay down on his bed as I commanded. I straddled him, my hands on his chest, like I could hold him down.

  “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.”

  His eyes widened. “I’m clean too. Just had my physical.”

  In response, I slid over the length of
him, hot and slick. He closed his eyes and groaned.

  I did it again, rubbing my nub along the hard length of him, driving myself wild.

  “What are you doing to me, woman?” He dragged his eyes open. “God, I love your tits.” He pressed them together, lifted his head, and licked my nipples, going back and forth. Pleasure spiked through me, thick and needy. I tilted my hips, slipped down on his cock, and took him in in one long, hot stroke.

  His head fell back, and I rode him. Harder and faster until we were both sweaty and incoherent and grasping at each other. Crying out. Kissing. Grabbing. Arching. Pumping. Coming. Coming hard.

  Then we fell back to the covers, wrapped up in each other.

  Fucking great sex.

  I flopped onto my back.

  Too good.

  There was no holding myself back from this guy.

  Beside me, Jake was already sleeping, still holding my hand in his.

  I kissed him on the shoulder, slipped my hand from his, and wondered what mess I had gotten myself into.

  I thought about moving on, and staying put.

  I thought about being wood and being water.

  I thought about what I was going to do now.

  Chapter 24

  Jake

  Sun was spilling in my window, birds were singing, and life was good.

  I’d finally got Hannah Roberts into my bed. And it had been spectacular. Better than spectacular. I didn’t even have a word for it other than fuck yeah.

  I rolled over and hauled her up against me. She was warm and soft and deep asleep. My cock nudged against her hip, wanting more. But I’d kept her up half the night already. She deserved her rest.

  I slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of boxers, and padded down to my kitchen. Warm sunlight filled the open space. I cracked open the sliding glass doors. The birds were happy this morning. So was I. I whistled along with them.

  Bacon. Bacon and coffee would make this morning even better.

  I turned on the coffeemaker and threw a pan of bacon in the oven. I should have had sex months ago. I was like a new man. Like I’d woken up five years younger.

  But it wasn’t just sex. It was Hannah. It was her laughter and her realness and, yeah, her body.

  Something caught my eye, and I looked up. Hannah was coming down the open stairs, her hair mussed, her long legs bare. She was wearing one of my T-shirts, and it fell just below her ass. She looked well fucked.

  I did that to her.

  “Good morning, sexy.” Man, this girl was curvy in all the right places. Like a sleek BMW. And I’d had crazy hot sex with her last night. Three times.

  She sent me a small smile. “I hope you don’t mind I stayed over.”

  “You’re always welcome in my bed, sweetheart.”

  She walked across the kitchen toward me and kissed my shoulder. “I smell coffee.”

  She still had some makeup on and it had smudged a little under her eyes. She looked like a rock star, like a wild party girl.

  Lust pulsed through me. My cock was hard, heavy.

  I pulled her into my arms and dropped kisses along her neck. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  Her head fell back, and her nails dug into my shoulder blades.

  Seems she couldn’t get enough either.

  Man, I liked this girl.

  “Here’s the plan.” I ground against her. “First, I make you come in my kitchen. Then we have breakfast. Then we go upstairs and get naked.”

  “Oh God,” she breathed, because my fingers had found her clit through her damp panties. I lifted her up onto my kitchen counter and stepped between her legs. She was already wet for me.

  I was going to make her come so hard.

  I took her nipple in my mouth, through the fabric of the T-shirt. She dug her hands into my hair. I pushed her panties aside. Circled my thumb over her clit. Slipped one finger, then another inside her, looking for the elusive G-spot.

  “Jake,” she gasped, arching against my hand.

  I’d found it.

  I moved my fingers in a teasing rhythm. I would play the instrument of her body. I would make her cry out. I would make her come apart in my arms.

  I took her other nipple in my mouth, grazed it with my teeth.

  She cried out. Dropped her hand to my cock. Squeezed.

  I ground my teeth. Flicked her clit playfully.

  “Oh yes,” she panted. She pumped her hand down my cock. “I want to come on you.”

  Panties, gone. Boxers, gone. Cock, hard and ready.

  I slid inside her.

  So good.

  Hands in fists. I couldn’t touch her. Not yet. Control.

  I pulled out to the tip, thrust back in. Teasing. In charge. Again. Slow. All the way out. All the way in. Deeper.

  She was shaking.

  She pulled my mouth down to hers. Tongues, lips, teeth, gasping breath.

  She tilted her hips.

  Fuck.

  I dropped my hands to her ass. Pushed her onto me. Pulled out and thrust hard.

  We both gasped.

  She locked her legs around my hips. I didn’t stop. Driving and driving. So hard. And so wet.

  Hannah cried out with each thrust. Then went silent. Head tucked. No breath. Shaking. Gasping. Clinging. So tight on my cock. Tighter.

  I pushed her onto my cock. Thrust. Deeper.

  “Oh my God,” her voice shook. “Oh my God. I’m still coming.”

  I careened over the edge.

  Falling. Exploding.

  Alive.

  Coming deep inside her.

  Fuck.

  I dropped my head on her shoulder. Eyes closed.

  Breathless. Zinging everywhere.

  I held her. Or she held me. Until we stopped shaking. Until our breaths evened.

  What the fuck just happened?

  I relaxed my hands. There might be a mark on her hip.

  This woman. I was alive. In a way I only found in the mountains. I’d been a walking shadow. She was color.

  I opened my eyes. Lifted my head. Planted a kiss on her lips.

  I slid out of her and stepped back. Froze.

  “You look so hot spread open on my counter like that,” I growled.

  It was going to take more than a few weeks to get her out of my system.

  She blinked her eyes open. “I don’t know if I can think yet.”

  Hell, yeah. I grinned. A fucking king in his castle. “I’ll never look at my kitchen the same.”

  She slid down to the floor, pulled on her panties, then tried and failed to make sense of her hair.

  “Coffee or shower first?” I pulled on my boxers.

  “Bacon.”

  “A girl after my own heart.” I swatted her on the ass. She still looked dazed. I’d done that. And I’d do it again.

  I put on some tunes, poured our coffee, and whipped up a plate of eggs. We could go for a hike later. She might need to stop by her place for clothes. Or we could just go back to bed.

  “Your phone is ringing,” she said.

  “Hmm?” I searched the counter aimlessly. I’d used the last of my brain cells.

  “Here.” She held it out to me. The she stilled. “There’s also a text. From Cathy Cook.”

  What had Brian done? Whatever it was, I was flying too high to let anything bring me down.

  I looked at the screen.

  Unknown: Hey Jake, Cathy Cook here. I’m going to give you a call in a few. Let’s chat!

  “Crap,” I muttered. Then silenced the ringer and tossed the phone aside.

  “Why is she calling?”

  I shrugged. “My cousin must have given her my number.”

  “For another interview?”

  My phone pinged. Cathy Cook had left a message.

  “What does she want?” Hannah asked again.

  “Who cares.” I put a plate of food and a steaming cup of coffee in front of Hannah. “You have to get naked for breakfast. House rules.”

  Chapter 25
r />   Hannah

  Jake suggested a hike Saturday afternoon, but I was too exhausted. And sore. I’d had more sex than sleep in the last twenty-four hours.

  Not that I was complaining.

  If I’d had my way, I’d have taken a long nap in Jake’s bed and stayed for dinner. And slept over that night too. Heck, I’d stay all week.

  I may have had a little issue with boundaries.

  So, I had him drop me at home late in the afternoon. I limped upstairs and took a long, hot bath.

  My God. Best sex of my life. Hands down.

  I closed my eyes in the steam, half-asleep.

  Marley would be a good name for our dog, a golden retriever, of course.

  I loved my house, but Jake’s condo was bigger. I’d move in there with the dog. My couch was better and would match his leather chairs. We’d keep his bed. Use my lamps.

  In a few years, he’d propose to me. Somewhere out in the mountains. The dog would be the ring bearer at the wedding. We’d go on some beach honeymoon adventure. Maybe in Hawaii. The Napali Coast.

  I awoke with a start, my skin pruned, the water lukewarm. I must have dozed off in the middle of my fantasy.

  Shit.

  I was getting ahead of myself again. Marriage? And a dog?

  One thing was for certain, I was not going to text or call Jake until the next day.

  I glared at my phone where it sat on the sink.

  Hear that, phone?

  You’re retired for the rest of the night.

  I dragged myself out of the water, toweled off, and threw on some comfy clothes. Man, I was sore.

  I still wanted to call him.

  I needed a distraction.

  I grabbed the book I’d bought at the flower shop last week on creating “serenity in an urban landscape.” The pictures looked great, all green and calm. That was what I needed. I’d make over my backyard. I’d never lived anywhere long enough to care about the yard before. This was my home now.

  I was absolutely not going to entertain the idea that maybe I’d move into Jake’s condo.

  Hadn’t Crystal said something about home and the root chakra? And gardening?