Yoga Studio, Sunlight Streaming, Lavender in the Air

“His hips don’t lie,” Mel whispers, sliding onto her mat. “And I’d happily let him adjust my downward dog.”

“Jesus, Mel,” Cara hisses from the next mat, barely hiding her grin. “We haven’t even hit child’s pose.”

“I am a child,” Mel purrs. “A very, very bad one.”

“Eyes on your breath, not his ass,” Cara mutters. “Though ... damn.”

“Inhale ... exhale...” Mel moans softly. “I’m already wet. Must be all this inner peace.”

“You’re going to get us kicked out.”

“If I get kicked out, it better be with his hands on my hips and his tongue halfway to redemption.”

“Ladies,” the instructor calls, voice rich like cedar smoke. “Let’s center our energy—not our commentary.”

Mel smirks. “Oh, I’m centered, alright. Centered on that V line.”

“Mel,” Cara breathes. “He heard that.”

“Good. I like a man who listens with his whole body.”

Mid-Class, Bodies Stretching, Breath Held

“Warrior Two,” the instructor says. “Mel, sink lower.”

“Oh, I bet I do,” she says, dropping her hips with slow precision. “But you might want to double-check.”

His fingers land on her waist. “Breathe into it.”

“Trying,” she exhales. “But you smell like sandalwood and sin.”

“Focus,” Cara hisses. “You’re throwing off my drishti.”

“I am focused,” Mel whispers. “On his hands. His breath. And what’s behind that waistband.”

“Transition to high lunge,” Ryan says. “Inhale. Reach up.”

Mel’s arms sweep overhead. “Look at that, Cara. Worship pose.”

“I’m worshiping your restraint.”

“Now plant your hands. Step back—downward dog.”

Mel exhales, hips high. “God, I love this one.”

“Tabletop,” Ryan says. “Move slow.”

Mel lowers to all fours, knees spread. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Cara coughs. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“Say what?” Mel grins. “That I’m presenting for inspection?”

“Cat-cow,” Ryan calls. “Breathe through your spine.”

Mel arches, eyes meeting Cara’s. “Permission to purr.”

“I will drag you out of here.”

“That’s fair,” Mel says, rolling her hips. “But you should try it. Liberating.”

“Shavasana,” Ryan says. “Let everything melt.”

Mel drops flat. “If I melt any more, I’ll slide into his aura.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“And bendy.”

Changing Room, Mirrors Foggy, Hearts Still Pounding

“You’re actually going to do it, aren’t you?” Cara says, toweling off. “Full-on yoga porn fantasy.”

“Not a fantasy if I make it real,” Mel says, swiping lip balm.