Downward Facing Dreamboat

by Bru Baker

  “Maybe he’s not avoiding me,” Kincaid said. “I asked the Wednesday night receptionist, and she said he never works Wednesdays. So it doesn’t mean much that I haven’t seen him.”

  Natalie gave him a flat look. “He ended the session as soon as it happened, and he referred you to another doctor to finish your physical therapy. Sounds like avoidance to me.”

  Kincaid’s conscience agreed. That’s why he’d started taking a different route to work in the mornings so he didn’t have to see Owen at the studio. That was not the action of a guiltless man.

  “I really want to apologize, though,” he whined.

  “Apologies are more for the giver than the recipient,” Natalie said. “That being said, the woman who works the front desk at the studio said he seems sad.”

  Kincaid choked on his orange juice. “Natalie! Oh my God. Are you spying on him? What the hell?”

  She shrugged. “You never talk about guys. I figured he must be pretty special if he threw you for this much of a loop. I mean, you were willing to do yoga for him.”

  He was still willing to do yoga, even without him. Kincaid had found a place near work and was going at lunch three days a week. The instructor wasn’t nearly as good at helping Kincaid get into a pose as Owen was, but she was a woman, which meant Kincaid didn’t have to worry about awkward accidental boners.

  Kincaid closed his eyes, took a deep breath in through his nose, and released it slowly through his mouth. His new instructor was big on ending their classes with meditations, and this afternoon she’d taught him the abhaya hridaya mudra, or the fearless heart seal. It was a complicated hand gesture that was supposed to help the user meditate to escape the pull of anger and help center the mind. He curled his fingers together into the shape under the table. He was supposed to bring his hands to his heart center, but Natalie would never let him live it down.

  He opened his eyes when he could be sure he wasn’t going to yell at her.

  “And you said I was the one stalking him—Jesus. You’re actually stalking him.”

  Well, that came out angrier than he’d intended. Oops.

  “No, I’m not. I bought a package at the studio, and I’ve been taking Bikram classes—which he doesn’t teach, by the way. He does their intermediate hatha classes and their advanced vinyasa classes.”

  He kind of hated to give her credit, but that was some smart meddling. And he wanted to know more, dammit. Why was Owen sad?

  “And you just casually brought him up in conversation?”

  She shot him a grin. “They all love to talk about him. All the instructors there adore him, and they’re all desperate to get to the bottom of why he’s suddenly so quiet. I was going to tell you all about it, but since that would make my stalking even creepier, maybe I’ll keep it to myself.”

  She cast a meaningful glance at his half-eaten bacon cheeseburger, and Kincaid sighed and shoved the plate at her. She dove into it with a manic glee that was a little disconcerting.

  “Maybe you should cut back on the diet, Nat,” he said, watching ketchup roll down her chin. “Add in a cheat day or something.”

  She shook her head. “I promised Denise I wouldn’t have carbs until after the wedding. She doesn’t want any of the bridesmaids to be bloated.”

  She demolished the burger and fries in record time while he watched, half-disgusted and half-impressed.

  “How’s that going?” he asked. “The no-carb thing.”

  “It’s going fine,” she said, wiping her chin with a napkin and sitting back with a satisfied smirk. He raised an eyebrow in question, and she shrugged. “Doesn’t count if you don’t order them yourself.”

  “Owen, Natalie,” he said, his patience fraying. “What are they saying about Owen? Why do they say he’s sad?”

  Natalie took a sip of water and stacked their dishes before finally answering.

  “I was talking to Brittany—she’s the beginner hatha teacher. She says Owen is usually full of jokes and chatty. But three weeks ago he called in sick for his Friday morning class, which he apparently never does. She was the one who had to come in and cover for him, and she said when he called her he sounded upset. And then when he came in for his weekend classes, he was, like, subdued. She said they all think he’s going through a breakup or something.”

  A breakup. Of course. His mood probably had nothing to do with Kincaid. God, he was so self-centered. Maybe Owen really did have a full Thursday night schedule. Kincaid had asked for the next available evening appointment when he’d called, and that must have been Owen. Kincaid had totally blown all of this out of proportion.

  “I can see the wheels turning, and as usual, they’re turning the wrong way,” Natalie quipped. “Brittany said she’d been surprised he dated because he spends all his free time at the studio and none of them have ever seen a significant other stop by. You want to know what I think happened?”

  He did, but he didn’t want to admit it. His sister was smug enough without him egging her on.

  She ignored his silence and continued. “I think he was attracted to you, and he freaked out. He could lose his license if you filed a complaint about him touching your ass during a session.”

  “But I was obviously into it! I’d have let him fuck me right there in the clinic!”

  God, he couldn’t believe he was talking about this with his sister. He needed more friends.

  Natalie snorted. “Gross. He definitely would have lost his license over that.”

  “If he stopped seeing me as a patient because he was attracted to me, then why hasn’t he called me?”

  “Um, probably because that’s illegal?” Natalie scrunched up her face. “Patient records are really heavily protected.”

  And it wasn’t like Owen could have flagged him down while he was passing the studio because Kincaid had been taking a different route. Fuck. Owen probably thought Kincaid was the one avoiding him.

  “He’s got a vinyasa class that lets out at eight tonight,” Natalie said.

  Kincaid could make it if he hurried after his appointment with Dr. Seely.

  “Brittany said he usually stays and does paperwork after his Wednesday night class. So he should be there. You know, in case you were dead set on offering that apology in person.”

  But what if Owen really didn’t want to see him? The last thing Kincaid wanted to do was make the situation even worse. Owen was a great guy, and he didn’t want to cause him any trouble.

  “Jesus,” Natalie cursed under her breath. “Look. When Brittany tried to get Owen to go out for drinks with the other instructors the other night, he told her he’d met someone amazing, and he was hung up on him even though his attraction to the guy was unprofessional. It would be an unbelievable coincidence if that person wasn’t you, Kincaid. Get your ass over there and go get your man.”

  He was tempted to skip his appointment, but it wouldn’t do him any good—Owen had that class to teach, so he wouldn’t get to talk to him sooner even if he left now.

  “I will,” he told her, irritation flaring through him when she looked skeptical. “I will. After my appointment tonight.”

  Natalie pursed her lips. “Don’t think I won’t check with Brittany.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he groaned. “Did you tell her everything?”

  “Of course,” she said with a wicked grin. “You two are the best gossip that studio has ever had!”

  Chapter Four: Mayurasana – Peacock Pose

  KINCAID HAD debated changing back into the slacks and button-down he’d worn to work after his physical therapy session, but Dr. Seely had kept him late, giving him advice for cross-training and keeping himself limber when he ran, so he’d decided to go in his gym clothes. Owen would probably be dressed in those ridiculously tight yoga shorts and a tank top with the studio logo on it, so it wasn’t like Kincaid needed to be dressed up to impress him.

  He was too jittery to take the train, so he called an Uber instead. People were still spilling out in twos and threes
when he got to the studio, all of them sweaty and carrying colorful yoga mats under their arms.

  Fuck. He hadn’t thought this through. After a hard vinyasa class, Owen was likely to be as sweat-soaked as the people coming out—and a sweaty Owen in skintight clothes was a complication Kincaid hadn’t banked on.

  Maybe he should come back tomorrow morning. He could leave for work a little early and stop in before Owen’s first class. Kincaid got three steps down the sidewalk before he stopped himself. This was ridiculous.

  No matter what Natalie said, she was just guessing that Owen was hung up on him. He needed to think of tonight as his chance to apologize for being one of the pervy patients Owen had complained about. This was not about him; it was about Owen. He’d made Owen uncomfortable during their session, and he needed to apologize for that. And if Owen never wanted to see him again after tonight, well, he’d honor that.

  God, he hoped Owen didn’t hate him.

  Kincaid marched back down the sidewalk and entered the studio before he could talk himself out of it. The lights were lowered, and soft music played from the studio’s speakers. There were a few empty mats on the floor, but only one person was inside.

  Owen had his eyes closed as he held his body in what looked like an impossible position. He was as sweaty as Kincaid had feared he would be, but instead of being erotic, it was awe-inspiring. He held himself up with his hands, his body levered on his arms with his legs sticking up at an angle behind him. It looked like he was about two seconds from face-planting on the floor, but he didn’t waver. The sheer strength it took to hold the pose was breathtaking.

  A few weeks ago, Kincaid would have been impressed, but now that he knew more about the mechanics of yoga, he was stunned. Owen made the pose look effortless. Kincaid had tried crow a few days ago, one of the simplest yoga arm inversions, and failed miserably. He couldn’t imagine the strength and focus this pose must take.

  He stood there silently watching him, not wanting to startle Owen and make him fall. After a few minutes, Owen shifted and brought his feet back down, swinging them under himself and sitting up on his heels. He blinked his eyes open and looked straight at Kincaid, like he’d known he was there all along.

  “Mayurasana.” Owen stood up and came to a stop a few feet from Kincaid. “Peacock pose. What brings you in tonight, Kincaid?”

  Kincaid swallowed. “I wanted to apologize,” he forced out, “for upsetting you. I didn’t—”

  Owen held up a hand. “Wait—what?”

  “I know I crossed a line during our session. You left before I could apologize that night, and then you changed me to a different doctor. I want you to know that I’m sorry for putting you in that situation.”

  Owen’s entire demeanor changed, and he started laughing. “Shit, Kincaid. The only thing you have to apologize for is being so goddamn hot that I nearly violated the Hippocratic oath by jumping you during your therapy. You didn’t do anything—that was all me. I never should have touched you like that. You were a patient, and it was unbelievably inappropriate. I transferred you to Dr. Seely because I couldn’t trust myself to be around you.”

  “But… I reciprocated. I liked it.”

  “That doesn’t make it right. I was your doctor, and it was inappropriate.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me that? I didn’t mind switching to Dr. Seely. Hell, I’d have switched to a different practice altogether if it meant we could start seeing each other.”

  Owen looked pained. “I couldn’t,” he said. “It still would have been inappropriate. And I was worried it was one-sided.”

  “Are you kidding me? Owen, I’ve been walking by every morning since this place opened to get a glimpse of you!”

  He hadn’t meant to confess to his daily stalking. But from the smile spreading across Owen’s face, it had been exactly the right thing to say.

  Owen moved toward him, his gaze fixed on Kincaid’s face. “So you mean you’ve been attracted to me since before I was your doctor?”

  “Since before you were my doctor, before I talked to you about yoga—for months, Owen.”

  He didn’t have the chance to embarrass himself further before Owen surged forward and kissed him. Kincaid wrapped his arms around Owen’s shoulders, his hands fisting in the sweaty fabric.

  “Fuck, we could have been doing this months ago,” Owen muttered against his lips.

  Kincaid pulled back. “You just met me, like, four weeks ago.”

  “Do you think most of the teachers warm up before classes? We don’t. Not like that. I saw you stop to watch one morning, and I kept looking for you after that. I was putting on a show for you, but you never came inside. I always leave the curtains parted a little bit so I can still see you if you’re late walking by. That day you were pacing in front of the door, I decided to take a chance and go after you.”

  Kincaid laughed when Owen pressed a line of kisses up his jaw. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m dead serious,” Owen said against his skin. “I looked for you the last few weeks. When you didn’t walk by, I assumed—”

  “I didn’t want to bother you,” Kincaid said. “I mean, I basically attacked you at your office. I figured you didn’t want to see me.”

  Owen chuckled. “Attacked? You rubbed your ass against me a bit. Though that moan—oh my God. I haven’t gotten hard that fast since I was a teenager. I wanted to fuck you right there on the mat.”

  Kincaid’s confidence surged at the playful tone in Owen’s voice.

  “What a coincidence. I also wanted you to fuck me right there on the mat.”

  Owen made a small, needy sound, and Kincaid plastered himself against him, kissing him until they were both panting and had to break apart to breathe. Owen’s thigh was nestled between Kincaid’s legs, and Kincaid humped against it, making Owen laugh.

  “I’m usually better at this,” Owen said breathlessly.

  “Oh, you seem plenty good at it,” Kincaid rumbled.

  “You’re easy to impress. I like it,” Owen said before snaking a hand down the waistband of Kincaid’s shorts.

  Kincaid’s knees went weak when Owen’s hand wrapped around him. He thrust into it, whimpering when Owen started kissing his neck again.

  “Wait, the door,” Kincaid managed to gasp out. They were in the middle of the yoga studio. The drapes were still closed because of the class, but the door was uncovered and unlocked—anyone could walk in.

  Owen released Kincaid’s dick and pulled him toward the curtained-off changing room. It had a row of cubbies down one wall and a messy heap of mats in a corner. Owen collapsed onto them, tugging Kincaid down on top of him.

  “The door—”

  “The studio closes at eight. No one is going to try to come in.”

  But Kincaid was already too far gone to care. Part of him was appalled that he and Owen were going to have sex in a public place where anyone could walk in, but another part of him, a larger part, was turned on by the danger.

  Besides, how many times had he fantasized about Owen fucking him right here in this studio? He’d had one-night stands before, but this was different. He wanted a hell of a lot more than one night with Owen.

  Kincaid lifted his hips when Owen tugged at his shorts, letting his naked ass fall back against the yoga mats. He toed off his shoes and struggled to sit up enough to let Owen peel off his shirt. Owen’s yoga shorts weren’t concealing anything, but it felt sexy to be naked while Owen was still clothed.

  He let out a moan when Owen ducked his head and licked a stripe up his cock. His hips bucked up off the mat, and Owen used one of his hands to hold him down, pressing heavily against Kincaid’s hip bone.

  Owen’s mouth was tight and hot, and Kincaid bit his lip, trying not to whimper as Owen swallowed him down. He attempted to raise up to see Owen, but the effort had him trembling. He settled for running his fingers through Owen’s hair.

  He wanted more. He wanted to be able to get his hands on Owen and make him feel this good.


  He wiggled his hips and pulled on Owen’s short hair.

  “I want to touch you,” Kincaid whined.

  Owen pulled off his dick and nuzzled against his balls, making Kincaid thrust up against him. Owen kissed his hip and crawled up his body, hovering over Kincaid before lowering himself down for another kiss.

  Kincaid’s hands roved down Owen’s body, teasing against defined muscle and smooth skin before tugging at the waistband of his tight yoga shorts. Someday he wanted to absolutely wreck Owen in these shorts—he wanted to mouth him through the soft fabric until he whimpered and begged. But tonight he was too impatient for that. He wanted his hands on Owen now.

  It was difficult to get them off since they were so tight and Owen was sweaty, but Kincaid managed with a little help from Owen. He scooted down the mat until Owen’s dick was level with his mouth and then pressed teasing kisses to Owen’s sac before taking his balls in his mouth, humming in appreciation for the way it made Owen shiver and moan. He smelled musky and sour with sweat, and Kincaid couldn’t get enough. He took Owen’s length into his mouth, his tongue working as he swallowed as much of him as he could. Ran his hands down Owen’s back and wrapped them around his ass, urging him forward.

  Owen got the picture after a few nudges and started to fuck into Kincaid’s mouth. Kincaid moaned around him and let go of his ass so he could reach down to pump himself in time with Owen’s thrusts.

  “Fuck,” Owen muttered. “Fuck, Kincaid. You feel so good. I want to fuck you till you can’t stand it. Slide inside you and make you forget your name. Jesus.”

  Kincaid was so on board with that. He tightened his lips, working hard not to gag as Owen’s thrusts got deeper and more erratic. He was close himself, and from the sounds Owen was making, Kincaid didn’t think he’d be lasting much longer either.

  “I’d be fucking you right now if I had condoms in the studio,” Owen said. “Spread you out on all fours in front of me like last time, but this time I wouldn’t stop myself from taking what I wanted.”