Page 85 of Connectio
“Now what?” I look up through my lashes.
He runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head. “Sit back on your heels and hunch forward, tucking your head into your knees and stretching your arms out before you, breathing slow and deep. You should feel the stretch in your quads, neck, and shoulders.”
I do as I’m told and close my eyes, steadying my heartbeat. “I like this part of boxing,” I say, my voice a little drowsy.
He chokes out, “So do I.”
Lifting my head, I find him staring at my arse again. “I might report you for sexual harassment.”
He squats, and again, I chance a peek down the leg of his shorts.
“I should do the same to you,” he says.
I giggle. “Fair enough.”
“Okay, now lie on your tummy then push up with your hands and arch your head back. This is called a cobra. It stretches your lower—”
“Jesus! You’re not wrong.” Fire burns my lower back and abdominals.
“If it’s too painful, creep your hands forward a bit to relax the stretch, but not too much or it’s pointless.”
Once again, I do as I’m told, and the discomfort soon eases.
Will kneels beside me, his hand resting on my arse. “How’s that, better?”
I scoff. “Is that a trick question?”
“No.” He chuckles. “On your back and open your legs.”
I snap my head toward him. “What?”
He points to the rest of the class who are all on their backs with their legs open like frogs.
“Oh. Okay.” Shuffling onto my back, I copy my fellow classmates, my inner thighs now screaming their disgust. “Oh wow! Yep. Feelin’ that.”
“Breathe,” he says. “Relax your hips and let your knees fall as close to the ground as they can.”
“I… I am,” I struggle to say, my muscles too tight.
He scoots along the mat until he’s kneeling in front of me, his knees pressing into my shins. Will leans forward, rests his hands on my legs, and gently kneads the pads of his thumbs into my inner thighs.
I moan, and it almost sounds pleasurable.
“Nice, slow, deep breaths,” he says, thumbs biting deeper.
Will scoots forward again and ever so slightly presses down on my legs, his eyes not wavering from mine.
I grimace. “That hurts.”
“Just relax.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. Just let go.”
“No, I ca—”
He pushes a little harder. “It’ll be worth it.”
