Page 13 of Downward Dawg
Their lips met and she shivered from the blaze of heat that sparked from the contact. “Wow,” she whispered, and he nodded slowly, his eyes fractions of an inch away.
“Wow,” he agreed softly, then angled his head to kiss her again, this one deeper, longer, and infinitely sweeter. When he pulled back, his lips ghosted across her cheek to her ear to ask, “What were you doing when I knocked?”
Elodie had to shake the cobwebs out of her head. She’d been stunned silent by the force of the connection between them. “Uh, yoga. Relaxation yoga. I do it every night before bed.”
“Yeah?” He looped an arm around her waist and steered them around the end of the couch to the open floor. “Got another one of those mat thingies?”
“Does the imaginary bear crap in the hypothetical woods?” She yanked one from a nearby basket, fumbling as she removed the band holding it closed. “I’m the yogi. Of course I do.”
Flinging it to the ground, she bent over to arrange the two mats side by side, but not too close. When she straightened, he moved so he was right behind her, and his hands immediately wrapped around her hips, pulling her back against him.
“Gonna teach me yoga, pretty lady?” His words came out muffled as his mouth found the side of her neck. She arched with a stifled mewl, and shivered again as he laughed quietly against her skin. “I’d like that, I think.”
“Yes?” The single word came out as a question, so she cleared her throat and repeated, “Yes.”
Take that. I’m manifesting I want him to stay the night. Hear me, out there? Stay. The. Night.
“I don’t have to wear those tiny leggings, do I?” He dropped another series of kisses against her throat and shoulder. “That might be a deal breaker for me.”
She hummed her approval of his caresses, then broke free to take a step back and catch her breath. Clearing her throat a second time, she nodded, then spoke her assent. “Leggings are optional, of course. And yes, I would be pleased to teach you. It’s my calling, after all.”
His head cocked to one side, then the other. “Calling? Not a job?”
“Oh, gosh, no. The job was in accounting, and I hated every minute.” The reminder of how incredibly her life had changed since walking away from the corporate world was enough to sweep the seduction fog from her head. “Now, shall we begin our practice together?” Elodie knelt, then sank so her ass rested on her heels. “If you’d remove your boots and approach the mat, sir?”
This feels like something we might do together every day.
She liked that he was trusting her, letting her take the lead as she had earlier with him and the meal. Not making whatever this was into a competition but leading them together into what could be a partnership.
And there I go, getting ahead of myself. Universe, take what you will from all of this, but make things be happy, okay? I’d appreciate it smuchly. Thanks.
He sat, the chain attached to his wallet rattling loudly. He removed that, then his boots, leaving him in socks. He looked at her with a question and she nodded. “Socks too, you need to feel the grounding as you work.”
“Grounding?” Socks tucked into the tops of his boots, he set them to one side and tried to imitate her position. Not unexpectedly, he wasn’t as limber as she was, but before he could realize and get self-conscious, she shifted to an easy seated position. “What’s grounding?”
“It’s the sense of the world around us, the ground cradling us from underneath, the air supporting our efforts. Yoga is taking tiny moments of awareness and stringing them together to create a fabric of relaxation and awareness.” Reaching out, she adjusted how his legs were arranged on his mat. “Sounds like a paradox, but it’s really not. This position should be more comfortable. It’s not about achieving the perfect pose every time, but finding a place within yourself where you can hear your heart, and know things are right with the world.” Bringing her hands to heart center, she poised her fingertips together, joining her two hands. With each breath in, she created the illusion of a ball with her fingers, and her exhales deflated it. “Just breathe with me for now. That’s more than enough to begin.”
He clumsily modeled his hand position after hers, doing the same exaggerated movements with every breath. After a few dozen breaths in and out, she saw his shoulders release slightly, the angle of them dropping down from his ears.
“Good, keep breathing. Try box breathing, now. Count of four in, hold for four, then exhale for four, hold again, and repeat.” She demonstrated the process and not surprisingly, he caught on quickly. “The military use this for training in stressful situations.”
“This is something I know,” he agreed, his voice rumbling as he spoke slowly. His closed eyes and the cadence of his words told her the techniques were working to relax him. “It’s familiar.”
“Good, familiar is good. It’s easy to fall into known routines.” She shifted, noting his eyes immediately opened wide, as if he hadn’t been aware of closing them. “Let’s try a couple of stretches.” Feet out in front of her, she propped her body up with arms braced at her back. “Windshield wiper your feet, and let your knees twist only as much as is comfortable. Roll your ankles, let the stress leave your body.”
He was slow changing positions, moving as if his body would betray him at any moment. She was well familiar with the sensation, because often once the body accepted a pose it had to be coaxed into the next one.
“Shit’s harder than it looks.” He winced when he shoved his hands behind him, and she leaned across and tapped his elbow.
“If your wrists hurt at all, go down to your elbows, that way you can give yourself a comfortable angle to work with.” She adopted the modified pose, and kept her feet and ankles in motion. “That’s better,” she said when he sighed into the new position. “Yoga isn’t about pain. If something isn’t comfortable, there are a thousand ways to change a pose. That’s why it’s called a practice, because we’re always refining.”
“Kinda like life.” His head dropped back naturally, and she took a moment to stare openly at him as he looked up at the ceiling. “When shit doesn’t fit, then find your niche and make it your home. Like me with the shop.”
“Yes, exactly like that.” She held the position for another ten breaths, then sat upright, resting her palms on her thighs. “Let’s try a hinge stretch. Sit up tall, ground your seat bones to the mat, and let your body sag forwards naturally. Move your glutes out of the way like this.” She pulled the large muscles towards the back of her butt, settling better onto the mat. “Now, let your back round. Get comfortable. It shouldn’t hurt anywhere, but there will be a pull at the backs of your legs and your low back. Breathe natural to your own rhythm. Just go lax. Focus your inward breath where there’s tension, and blow it out, the heat of that stretch leaving your body with your breath.”
He continued using the box breathing method and she smiled down at her knees.He’s a good student.
“Don’t worry how far you can stretch. If it’s more comfortable, prop your forehead on your fists like this.” She demonstrated, and then reached out to wrap a hand around each ankle. “Or you can put your hands on your knees or shins, or on the mat beside your legs. However feels good, that’s what you need to pursue.”
