She leans in slowly, and our foreheads connect. The contact sends electricity racing down my spine. This close, I can see everything: the gold buried in her brown eyes that are currently trying to avoid mine, the freckle just above her lip, the way her pulse hammers in her throat.
"Breathe," Valeria says softly. "Let go of whatever you're holding onto. The past, the future, the stories you tell yourselves. Just be here. Now. With your partner."
Asha's breathing is shallow. I can feel her trembling slightly, though whether it's from exertion or something else, I can't tell. My hands flex on her lower back, and she makes a small sound in the back of her throat. Then something shifts.
Her weight settles more fully into my lap, like she has finally stopped fighting the position. The defiance is still there, but underneath it is something else. Something that has me holding my breath.
"Breathe together," Valeria says somewhere in the background, but her voice is just noise now. "Let yourself sink into the connection."
Asha's next inhale is deeper, slower. I match it without thinking, and suddenly, we're locked into the same rhythm. She slides her hands from my shoulders to the base of my neck and threads her fingers through my hair. The touch is intimate andsends heat cascading down my spine. This is the closest we've been since prom night.
The memory hits without warning. Her wrapped around me like this, legs locked around my waist, hands tangled in my hair. Gasping as I pressed her against the wall. Her voice breaking as she begged me not to stop. One night where everything felt right before it all came crashing down.
My hands tighten on her lower back, pulling her closer. She shifts in my lap, adjusting her position, and my body responds, instantly hardening. There's no hiding it. Not with her pressed against me like this, not with the thin fabric of our workout clothes as the only barrier between us. I wait for her to pull away. To scramble back like she did this morning. To throw up those walls again. But she doesn't.
Her eyes widen slightly when she feels my hardening length pressed directly against her center. I watch awareness flash across her face, see her breath hitch. But she doesn’t retreat. Instead, she stays exactly where she is. Then she shifts again, barely, just a fraction of an inch, and this time I know it's deliberate. She's testing it, testing me. The pressure increases between us, and I have to bite back a groan.
"Asha," I breathe her name, a warning and a question all at once.
Her breathing quickens, and those pretty pink lips I've tried to forget part slightly, and I watch her tongue dart out to wet them as her gaze drops to my mouth before darting back up to my eyes, and what I see there nearly undoes me. Want. Pure, undisguised want.
She rocks against me wordlessly, acknowledging what I know she feels. A slow, deliberate grind that has my vision blurring. For a second, the girl from prom is back. The one who looked at me like I was everything. The one who wasn't afraid to take what she wanted. I can feel her heat against my length, feel her bodytelling me everything her mouth won't: she wants this, wants me.
Another rock of her hips, and I choke back a groan. My hands grip her tighter, and she makes a soft sound in the back of her throat that goes straight through me. Her lips are so close to mine, a hairsbreadth apart, when her eyes snap open. I see it immediately. Panic floods in as reality comes crashing back in. Her entire body goes rigid, and the spell shatters.
"I'm sorry." The words come out breathless, rushed. "I'll be right back."
She's off my lap before I can respond, unwrapping her legs and scrambling to her feet with none of the grace from before. She doesn't look at me, doesn't look at anyone. Just grabs her water bottle and heads straight for the door. I sit there on my mat, chest heaving, body screaming with unfulfilled need, trying to process what just happened. Trying to calm the racing of my heart and the ache low in my gut.
When I turn my head, Dar and Santiago have stopped their pose, both of them looking at me with matching expressions of concern. Valeria has her back turned, giving us privacy as she organizes her things at the front of the room.
"Is she alright?" Dar asks quietly.
I run a hand through my hair. "I don't know."
Santiago and Dar exchange a look, some silent communication passing between them.
"Give her a minute," Santiago says, but his tone suggests I should probably do the opposite.
I push to my feet. Every nerve ending in my body is still firing, and I can still feel the phantom pressure of her against me, still feel the heat of her breath on my lips.
"I'll go check on her," I manage, my voice rougher than I intend.
I head for the door she exited, my heart still pounding because I know what just happened in there. We both gave in. For just a moment, we stopped fighting and let ourselves feel everything we've been avoiding. And it terrified her enough to run. Again.
"Open the door, Asha." My voice comes out strained as I stand outside the only other door in the hallway. I knock once, twice. Silence. Just the sound of running water on the other side. She's not going to answer.
I press my forehead against the door, trying to get my breathing under control. I know she's worked up. Hell, I know exactly what I was doing back there in that pose, what we were both doing. But it couldn't be helped. It's not my fault; I like the way Asha feels pressed against me. I wasn't about to hide my reaction to having my wife wrapped around me, grinding against me like she couldn't help herself. She's supposed to like how I feel. Sheismy wife.
The memory of her in my lap crashes over me again, the way her eyes went dark and heavy-lidded, the way she rocked against my hardness with unmistakable intent, the soft sound she made in the back of her throat when she felt exactly what she was doing to me. The way her fingers tightened in my hair like she was about to pull me into a kiss right there in front of everyone. Then she ran.
I open my eyes, jaw clenched, and look up. Running my fingers along the top of the doorframe, I feel for what I'm hoping is there. Sure enough, a small key. Old farmhouse trick. Every interior door has an emergency key somewhere. The lock clicks open, but she doesn't hear it over the sound of running water. I slowly push the door open just enough to slip inside. Steam fills the hallway bathroom, but the shower isn't running. It's the sink, the water is pouring full blast, like she's trying to drown out any other sound.
When I turn the corner, I freeze.
She's bent over the counter, one hand gripping the marble edge so hard her knuckles are white. The other hand is down the front of her leggings, her arm moving in a rhythm that makes my cock twitch violently in my joggers.Fuck.The sight of her touching herself because I got her this worked up almost brings me to my knees. Every muscle in my body goes taut, and I have to clench my fists at my sides, taking a deep breath to contain myself.
I don't want her to stop. I want her to give in to this. To give in to me. Her eyes are closed, head dropped forward, breathing hard. She hasn't noticed me yet, too lost in whatever she's chasing. Her hips rock forward slightly, seeking more friction, and a soft whimper escapes her lips.
