“Flow into eagle pose.”
“Shit,” Candace mutters.
I stare as Olive twists her arms in front of her and tucks one leg around the other until she resembles an upright pretzel.
“Follow along.” She gives me a cutting look. “If you can.”
Shiiiiittt. I’ve never backed down from a challenge. I cross my arms, stand on one leg, then wrap one foot around the rear of my calf. Should be simple. It’s not. I lose my balance. Olive stands completely still, her body twisted yet somehow comfortable.
I try the pose again and hold it for about five seconds before losing my balance yet again. A small smile plays across Olive’s lips. And this is just the beginning. Over the next hour, we move from standing poses that I find nearly impossible to hold, to work on our knees, to finally getting down on our stomachs. I’m sweating, Candace is breathing hard, and someone along the front row has let out a squeaky fart, so now I can’t breathe.
“Let’s push ourselves for the final pose, especially since most of us are taking Christmas week off.” Olive gets to her knees, lifts, and holds a planking position.
“Goddamn bullshit.” Candace assumes the position, though her back is nowhere near the straight line of Olive’s.
I can do a plank. Pushups are a gym mainstay for me. I’ve got this. But first, I get to my knees and strip my shirt off. Olive’s eyes rove my torso and lower. She swallows hard, and I get onto my hands and knees before my cock starts planking ahead of me.
Straightening my legs, I hold myself up and stare at Olive. Her eyes don’t leave mine, the challenge rippling across the air between us. She may be a yoga instructor with killer curves, bright eyes, and flexibility that will occupy my mind for days, months, probably years, but I can hold this pose for just as long as she can.
“If you need to modify the plank to a cobra, feel free.” The corner of her lips quirk up, and I know she’s speaking directly to me.
I remain still, my back straight, as the students around me sink to the mat one-by-one, giving up and resting their hips on the floor. The music fades out, the track over, and the room fills with the sounds of struggling breaths of people trying to maintain the plank and failing. Another minute passes and only Olive and I are left. The muscles in my ass and shoulders begin to burn, but I don’t drop. I won’t. Not until she does.
After another few minutes, she says, “If you’ve completed your plank or cobra, rest peacefully in child’s pose.”
I don’t miss the shake in her voice or the tremble in her arms. She’s going to break soon. I grin up at her, and she responds by pressing her lips into a thin line. All day, baby. All day.
Time ticks by, and some of the students begin rolling their mats and getting to their feet.
“This is hot. Like watching a game of sexy chicken.” Candace takes a loud swig from her water bottle.
Olive’s eyes narrow as the shake in her arms intensifies. I have her. With a hard exhale, she drops her knees to the mat. Yes! I relax downward and stifle a groan as my knees hit the mat.
Olive rises onto her knees, folds her hands together and says “Namaste,” although half the class has already left. She wipes her face with a hand towel and gives me a glare that could melt a glacier.
Anger is better than nothing, I figure. I scoot off my mat and roll it up as Mrs. Reed walks over.
“First yoga class?” She eyes me as I stand and mop the sheen of sweat off my chest.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Does a body good.” She gawks at my bare torso, and it leaves me feeling a bit more naked than I’d intended.
“Thanks.”
“Will I see you at the shop in a few minutes?”
“No, my nephew Trey is minding the store for me at the moment. I need to finish up my class payment information with Olive.”
She pouts, the wrinkles around her lips deepening. “Too bad. Maybe next time. The grands are going to love all your sweets.”
I look over her head at Olive, who stands with her hands on her hips as she angrily whispers to Candace. “I hope so, and thanks for shopping with me.”
“Very welcome. See you around.”
“Have a great Christmas.” I sidestep her and walk up to the platform where Olive falls silent, her heart-shaped face drawn down in disapproval.
Candace smiles brightly. “How’d you like your first class?”
“It was … more intense than I thought it would be.”
“You can say that again.” Candace scans the empty room. “Well, I better be going. Still have to do the shopping for next week.”
“You don’t do the shopping until Saturday.” Olive crosses her arms over her chest, pushing up her breasts even further. Sports bras usually do nothing for a nice pair of tits, but Olive’s defy even the laws of spandex.