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Sweat slides down my ribs as I balance on my forearms and push higher into scorpion pose. My shoulders burn when I deepen the arch, bringing my feet closer to the back of my head, but I hold it for another few breaths before unfolding and transitioning into eight-angle.

My arms are starting to tremble by the time I lower myself onto the mat. After thirty minutes of pushing my body, savasana should be the easy part, but lying still has never come naturally to me. I stare at the ceiling while my heartbeat slows and the tension gradually leaves my muscles, then close my eyes and enjoy the quiet while it lasts.

I’m calm and relaxed when a towel lands across my chest. I crack one eye open to find Max, the owner of the studio, glaring down at me with his arms crossed. Or at least trying to. The corners of his mouth keep threatening to betray him.

“Do you really have to fucking show off in my studio while I’m teaching a beginner’s class?”

I prop myself up on my elbows. “I wasn’t showing off.”

“Bullshit.”

He points toward the mirrored wall. “I had two students fall over trying to watch you.”

A grin tugs at my lips. “That’s not my fault.”

“They were in Warrior Pose, Nash.” He throws his hands in the air. “Warrior Pose, for fuck’s sake. One of the easiest poses in yoga, and you somehow turned it into a spectator sport.”

I laugh and drape the towel over my face before wiping the sweat from my forehead. “Easy, Max. This is supposed to be a place of peace and enlightenment.”

He snorts as he takes the towel from me. “You come here because I let you practice for free.”

“That’s just a bonus.”

Max shakes his head, the smile finally winning. “Nash, I love you, but one of these days you’re going to cost me my insurance deductible.”

I toss the towel over my shoulder and climb to my feet. “If they can’t balance because they’re staring at my ass, that’s a them problem.”

“Oh my God.” Max laughs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can tell it’s been way too long since you’ve had a Daddy.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means your bratty side gets worse when nobody’s keeping you in line.”

I sling the towel over my shoulder. “Maybe I just haven’t found someone worth behaving for.”

Max groans. “That is exactly what I’m talking about.”

We say our goodbyes, and I head for the locker room in desperate need of a shower while Max disappears into his office to tackle paperwork.

I haven’t bothered with anything resembling a relationship in more than two years. Finding a Daddy for a night when the mood strikes is easy enough, but one night doesn’t come with expectations or someone trying to wedge himself into a life that already keeps me busy.

That doesn’t mean I’d turn down the right man if I found him. He’d just have to keep up with me without being intimidated by my mouth or exhausted by my attitude, which narrows the options considerably.

As the hot water pounds across my back and shoulders, my thoughts drift to the one man they absolutely shouldn’t. Duncan Murphy. Jesus Christ. If I were picking a Daddy based on looks alone, he’d win without a fight. He’s six-foot-five with dark hair, a body that makes it obvious he spends plenty of time outside the boardroom, and the brightest green eyes I’ve ever seen. Add in the tailored suits and the way he looks at people like he can see every mistake they’ve ever made, and the man checks an unreasonable number of boxes for me.

I scrub a hand over my face. The man’s fifteen years older than me, owns half the city, and has a reputation that would send any sane person running the other way. Naturally, my first thought every time I see him is Daddy. I’ve even caught myself muttering it under my breath a few times, although thankfully never when he’s been close enough to hear me. At least I don’t think he has.

I’ve always been into older men, and Duncan checks every damn box. Confident, controlled, and completely unimpressed by anyone around him. Max wasn’t wrong when he called me a brat, either. I like pushing buttons, especially when I find someone who doesn’t lose his temper when I push too far. Duncan strikes me as the kind of man who would let me test every limit I could find before deciding he’d had enough, and I have no problem admitting how much I like the thought of finding out what happens after that.

The image of Duncan Murphy bending me over his desk and putting my smart mouth in its place makes my cock take notice. I glance down and briefly consider taking matters into my own hands. Then I remember exactly where I am.

Max would murder me if he caught me jerking off in the shower of his yoga studio, and I’ve already pushed my luck enough for one morning. Laughing at my own stupidity, I turn the water cold and stay under it until my body gets the message.

A few minutes later, dressed and no longer thinking with my dick, I sling my gym bag over my shoulder and head for the front desk. Max looks up from the paperwork scattered across his desk.

“Try not to cause any trouble.”

I flash him my most innocent smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”