Sighing, she sat up and opened her eyes. And locked gazes with the object of way too many of her thoughts.
Her heartbeat didn’t accelerate immediately, demonstrating her newfound tranquility. Cory in a navy suit and French cuffs, and with his dark hair cut shorter than usual was definitely a sight worthy of a racing pulse, especially since he was reflected in triplicate in the mirrors that surrounded the studio.
As the moment stretched out, she fought to maintain her stance. Arms resting on her thighs, hands upturned, spine erect. Area between her thighs, throbbing.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, feigning calm.
“I was in the neighborhood.”
“You don’t work out at this gym.”
He worked out alone, as he did so much else. Including working late into the night, day after day. She was sure his candle had to be crispy at both ends.
“No, but after what I just saw, I may give yoga a try.”
She snorted, unable to help it. “These are private classes. You’re not supposed to observe the students.”
“I wasn’t observing them. My eyes were only for you.”
Oh. Okay then. “Still.”
“You’re beautiful, Victoria.” While his words echoed through her, he crossed the room. She just stared as he extended his hand.
“I’m all sweaty,” she mumbled, rubbing her palm against her yoga shorts. Her exceedingly minuscule shorts, to go with her revealing, one-shouldered top. She needed to dress lightly for class—all the students did—but under his gaze she felt overexposed. And more sexy than she ever had in her life, droopy hair and all.
Thank you, yoga.
“I’m sweaty, too.” He reached up to tug at his tie. “What is it in here? A thousand degrees?”
She smiled. “One hundred and five. The ideal temperature to release toxins and achieve maximum well-being.”
He let his gaze wander over her unabashedly, and her nipples stiffened to get their share of his attention. He didn’t disappoint.
Yep, Cory Santangelo definitely preferred the T part of the T&A equation.
“It certainly works for you. You take my breath away.”
“Is the heat getting to you?” She cast a glance toward the door he must’ve shut on his way in. Quiet as a feline, he was. But a dangerous one, the kind that lured a victim with its graceful beauty and then went for the throat.
“Get up, Victoria.”
He was bossy, too. Though judging from the need swelling between her legs, she didn’t mind.
Vicky accepted his hand and stood, her breath catching at the desire in his eyes. He didn’t even try to mask it. Yesterday he’d been business as usual, but now he was back to the Cory he’d been on his balcony. And she was back to being as horny as a cat in heat.
She looked down to where he still held her hand, his finger circling the trigger point just beneath her thumb. “Why are you here?”
“I came to see you. You told me when your classes were, remember?”
“How did you find me? This isn’t even the usual yoga studio I teach in—”
“Yet I found you just the same. I must be a genius.” His mercurial smile didn’t slow down her racing heartbeat. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’d contributed to the toolbox fund?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you’d come up with the donation program, not just the design?” she shot back, surprised when his grip only tightened on hers. “Besides, I thought donations were private.”
“They normally are, except my brother thinks you’re a goddamn saint and couldn’t stop talking about you last night. He said you offered up an entire decorating package to two families, which is above and beyond.”
The distaste in his tone made her frown, until his eyes flashed. “You’re jealous that Dillon likes me.”
“I’m never jealous.” He gave her an impervious look. “And in case you’ve forgotten, you’re mine for the duration. As you chose.”
You’re mine. He might as well have taken out the key to unlock her vagina. She could hear the cylinders click. Open, sesame.
The movement of his finger held her captive, both from the jolts of pleasure radiating up her arm and from his skillful touch. “You know about pulse points.”
“You’d be surprised what I know.”
“You said that before.” She swallowed, hard. “And not so much.”
He stepped closer. His features appeared carved in granite, but for the warmth of his eyes. No longer a flat, cool gray, they blazed with the intensity she’d only ever seen him apply to work. Now it was riveted on her.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured. “If you don’t want that, tell me now.”