Page 11 of Click
His mouth turns down in a frown. “She didn’t stretch you?”
“Ummm. No?” I play with the hem of my robe, and somehow manage to completely forget I’m wearing next to nothing, standing in front of a hot man holding a camera. “Should she have?”
“Yes.” He lets out a grumbling sigh. “Holding poses can cause muscle cramps and soreness.”
“Jeez. You bend your clients like pretzels or something?”
“Sometimes.”
I don’t miss the playfulness in his tone. I also don’t miss the way my heart beats faster.
“Hang on a sec.” He dashes into the room Chloe did my hair and makeup in and comes out with two rolled up yoga mats. While I gawk at his ass, Carson lays out the mats and kicks his shoes off.
What is happening here?
He sits on his mat and pats the one next to him that’s staggered with his. “I promise it’s worth it.”
I’m barefoot in a skimpy lingerie outfit and we’re about to do yoga stretches. Okay, Mak. Be chill. I still can’t tell if this is WolfByte or not, but I promised myself before I arrived that I wasn’t going to hold myself back or be insecure or get too up in my head and talk myself out of something while I’m here.
This isn’t a big deal unless I make it one.
Plopping down on my mat, I wait for his instruction.
“Good girl.”
Fuck. Me.
“Put your legs out in front of you. Flex and point your feet for a count of twenty.”
I swear I’m thrown back to my old yoga sessions with my best friend, Leah. It feels good to stretch and now I can’t remember why we quit yoga in the first place. Before long, more of the tension that keeps building in my body loosens and I’m more comfortable. The lavender in the air helps too.
This is lovely.
“Reach out as far as you comfortably can towards your toes.”
Smiling, my muscle memory kicks in, and my spine straightens; then I lift my arms up and bend over until I’m halfway to my feet. Hey, it’s been a while, alright? My hammies are tight.
Carson, however, stretches all the way out and grips his damn ankles.
“You’re bendy,” I blurt out. Holy shit, why did I just say that out loud? Can’t my thoughts just stay on the inside, for fuck’s sake?
Instead of responding, he straightens back up and instructs me through five more different stretches for my arms and legs. When he has us go into child’s pose, I almost groan with how good it feels in my lower back. I need to go back to yoga. This is so relaxing.
“Last one,” he says, repositioning again. “Cat-cow.” Carson gets on all fours and looks back at me. “Curl up, arching your back like a pissed off cat.”
I do.
“Good. Now retract and curl your back as deep as you can. Stick your butt up and tilt your head back for me.”
No problem.
I hold the pose, relishing how nice it feels on my back, and I swear he growls. I know it’s probably my overactive imagination, but… I think he just growled again. It’s low and rumbly and hot and—
Get. A. Grip.
I can’t stop circling back to WolfByte, and as I do two more Cat-Cow stretches, I imagine what it would feel like to be fucked hard in this position. To hear him growl in my ear as he rails me. To feel his fingers dig into my thighs when he pries them apart to eat my pussy.
Heat blooms down my body and I feel myself getting wet. Oh no. No, no, no. I’m not in the right outfit for this nonsense. This is getting embarrassing.