The next day, I prep the private room at my studio, eager for Harlan’s arrival.
Maybe that makes me a junkie, but I’m getting hooked on these regular doses of him.
This whole teacher-student thing was definitely not on my vision board, but still, I look forward to every session with him.
I set down the mats, a purple one for me, a green one for him. Then, a strap for each of us, and my mind only briefly flickers to other uses for straps. Next, I place yoga blocks on each mat.
Step back.
Consider the scene.
Do I need anything else?
Should I play some Ed Sheeran?
And I scoff.
What the hell, Katie? Are you setting the table for a romantic dinner? Want to add candles and roses?
I do my best to eject the swoony thoughts from my brain. I’m just a teacher and he’s just a student.
When Harlan arrives, I’m professional yogini Katie. “I have a full menu of exercises for you. I’m going to work you hard.”
Work, work, work.
With a sexy smile, he lifts a brow. “Make me your pretzel.”
I do just that for the next thirty minutes, and then we move into downward dog variations.
I show him the pose I want him to do.
He imitates me, but a line of concentration digs into his forehead as he adjusts his hands. “Not sure I’m getting it right. Can you help me out?”
My heart flutters. It’s so endearing the way he asks without any macho bravado.
“Of course,” I say, then move beside him, running a hand down his spine.
And all the swoony thoughts I pushed away boomerang back to me.
Sure, this is not how I wanted to be touching Harlan’s back.
Ideally, I’d be naked.
Under him.
But touching him while his clothes are on is still a thrill. The man has muscles for days, and I am not immune to a hard body.
Though, I am supposed to be immune to his.
“Keep your legs as straight as you can,” I say, pressing gently on his lower back as he holds the pose.
“Admit it. You want to check out my ass,” he quips as he pops his butt higher.
Gah. I love a tight rear end.
Or, really, I discovered I did with Harlan. I discovered a lot of things in those two very sexy times with him.
Times that can’t happen again, Katie. Stop daydreaming.
“It’s a very nice booty,” I concede. “But I’m more concerned with making sure you press your hands into the mat and tuck your toes. That’s when you’ll find the biggest benefit.”
He cranes his neck, looking up at me. His eyes twinkle. “I’d like you to find my biggest benefit.”
I roll my eyes.
This man is the biggest flirt I’ve ever met.
Well, besides me.
Maybe that’s why we get along so well. We are birds of a flirty feather.
Setting my hands on his hips, I wiggle him into a slightly better position. “Just making an adjustment for you.”
“That’s not the adjustment I was hoping you’d make,” he says, injecting a little more gravel into his tone.
I laugh. “You are relentless today. And you said we were off-limits.”
“We are, but apparently I woke up on the naughty side of the bed this morning.”
“That’s both sides for you?”
“You know it,” he says with a laugh.
“Not surprised at all.”
“Bet your bed has two naughty sides just like mine,” he says.
I’m getting firmer abs just from laughing with him. “Maybe it does. Now, let’s switch to warrior one pose. But I want you to transition from downward dog and flow right into it. I’ll show you.” I drop onto my feet and hands with my butt in the air, then I raise my torso, lifting my arms toward the sky. “See?”
A low rumble comes from his chest as he stares shamelessly at mine. “Sorry, did you say something?” His eyes widen like a cartoon character catching sight of a delicious plate of goodies.
My goodies.
And you know what? I honestly don’t mind him ogling me.
Still, it’s best to segue to tamer teasing. I shake a finger at the NFL’s sexiest player ever. “Tsk, tsk. And I thought you’d be a good student.”
“I thought I wouldn’t want to bang the teacher,” he says with zero guilt, only desire.
It’s an enticing sound that I like far too much.
I, too, like that Harlan truly is a good student, and a devoted one. He’s been doing yoga on his own at home since we started, and he’s making strides in our one-on-one sessions. Once he shifts into warrior pose, I move behind him, sliding a hand down the outside of his thigh.
“You want your spine erect,” I say.
“That’s not the only thing erect,” he mutters.
“If it makes you feel any better, this is torture for me too. Teasing and torture.”
He meets my gaze, a sparkle in his warm brown eyes. “Mmm. Yoga for Sexual Teasing. New class for the yoga empress.”
“I’d only offer that class to you,” I whisper as a spark sizzles down my chest.
“And I’d take that class all day long since being with you like this is delicious torture. You’re like a cherry pie I just want to devour.”
Oh, my.
That’s quite a dart of lust rushing through my veins right now. I don’t think I’ve ever been compared to a cherry pie. I’m not sure I want a man to ever compare me to anything else.
Harlan makes me feel wanted in a way I never did with my ex. Or, honestly, any other man. None of the men I dated in Los Angeles. None of those guys floated my boat this much, this soon.
Except him, especially since the way he looks at me is incendiary.
And hard to resist. “I bet you’d savor every bite,” I whisper, then want to smack myself.
I’m pushing the limits.
Harlan is a client. Sure, my business belongs to Olive and me, but that doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want. Sleeping with a client is risky no matter what. Word could get out. Our business could suffer. We employ yoga instructors up and down the coast, as well as office support staff. My choices impact many more people than just me. I’d do well to remember that. Monday night’s celebratory evening should have reminded me.
I refuse to be my mother.
I will not let my choices hurt others—not my sister, my employees, or the business I’ve built.
There’s a right way and a wrong way to do things.
I need to do things the right way because I personally know how deep the wrong way cuts.
I stop, take a breath, and treat this moment with the gravity it deserves. “Harlan, do you want me to switch you to another teacher? I can do that. I know Wilder Enterprises hired me, but I can say it’s not working out. I can find an instructor for you. I can say someone else is better suited to your needs.”
But I don’t know if I can make good on my offer. I flash back to Zachary’s words on the first day—the team asked for me. Then Monday night—this deal’s already leading to others. Would I even be able to step aside as per the contract? And if so, could I walk away from this opportunity?
I brace myself for Harlan’s answer and the question of whether I can deliver on it, whatever he chooses.
He scoffs then raises his arms so his hands are parallel to the floor, showing off how well he knows our routine by transitioning into warrior two. “Look what I mastered in one week with you. I am not a quitter. I can do this. And I can handle this cherry pie lust.” His eyes hook onto mine, and mischief flickers in them. “Though, you are irresistible.”