Sacred Serenity (Lotus House Book 2) (6 page)

I licked my lips and compressed them. His eyes seemed to follow the movement, and for a split second, a flash of pain rippled across his face. The expression came and went so fast I couldn’t have catalogued it if I’d tried. He definitely did not want me or anyone to see so deeply into his psyche.

“Well, just like a lot of my classmates I also lost someone. My mother died in childbirth. She was only twenty. I’d like to prevent complications such as the ones my mother experienced, if I can.”

“Childbirth,” he practically gasped. “Twenty years old. Such a catastrophic loss.”

I offered a small smile. “Yes, well. Such is life, I guess.”

“Yes, Ms. St. James. I do believe you’re right. We never know what challenges life is going to put in front of us until the moment occurs.”

He took a slow breath, looked at me, and then at Landen, and turned on a heel, moving back to his desk.

“All right. Now that introductions have been made, and we know why you want to be physicians, let’s try to help you look the part.”

“That’s him, getting on stage now.” I pointed to my longtime friend, Atlas Powers. His dark brown, curly hair hung down to his chin in loose waves. He had on denim jeans with a hole splitting the knee as he sat down on the lone barstool under the track lighting. The black, shiny stage was worn and scuffed, putting breaks in the light shining on it. Atlas hooked a booted foot on the bottom rung of the stool, rested an acoustic guitar on his lap, and smiled at the audience. The purple scarf around his neck popped against the black background, sharing space with the single key necklace he had dangling against his shirt. The key sparkled like a camera flash when he shifted. I never did find out what the key was for, and every time I asked, he avoided an answer and changed the subject.

“And this is the guy you wanted us to see?” Jewel Marigold raised her pointed chin toward the stage. “Why, Dash? This is a bar not a yoga studio,” she declared, removing her coat and scooting into the booth next to Crystal.

I’d asked both of my co-owners from Lotus House to come tonight to see Atlas in action before he approached them about working in the studio. His music was such a huge part of his being. Before they chatted about employment opportunities, I wanted them to see his inner light. I believed it would make the case for bringing him on board far easier.

“What better way to get to know a person than to see them broken wide open? Anyone with a credential could technically teach yoga at Lotus House as you’ve mentioned. If my memory serves, the two of you hire instructors who have more to offer than a simple lesson, right? They need to have that something special that makes them unique to the center. Atlas has that. In spades.”

Crystal nodded. “This is true. We want the clients in our house to experience more than a typical class.”

I grinned. “Not only have I personally taken several of his heated Vinyasa Flow classes but also he has an idea for a brand-new class that would set Lotus House apart from all the rest.”

Jewel smiled and leaned forward. Her fiery red hair bounced around her pretty pixie face in heavy waves. “We’re already different. When our clients come to us, they receive spiritual and physical health beyond what money can buy alone. How can this friend of yours do that?”

Before I could answer, Atlas strummed his guitar. The volume in the crowded bar eased as the sound from his instrument began to filter through the space. I closed my eyes and waited for the words to come. Words I knew would settle within the minds and hearts of both Crystal and Jewel in a far more ethereal journey that traversed time.

Atlas’s voice rolled and crested, a wave with power built of a thousand tsunamis, each one hitting stronger and more devastating than the last. He continued his song, and I opened my eyes. A tear dripped down Crystal’s face. Her ice-blue eyes filled with more unshed tears. She was riveted to the man on the stage. Jewel sniffed and pushed her hair back.

“I want to know more about the new class concept he has,” Jewel said when Atlas sang his last words.

“Absolutely. This friend of yours is beyond gifted. Why is he teaching yoga when he should be in the recording studio?” Crystal asked.

“He’d love to be in the studio, only he hasn’t met the right people. He does these amateur nights every week hoping a scout will find him.”

Jewel nodded and put her hand up for the waitress. “Hot tea, please,” she said.

“Oh, me too!” Crystal jumped in.

The waitress’s expression was a mixture of disbelief and surprise. “You want hot tea? In a bar?”

“Do you not have it?” Crystal asked.

The waitress chuckled. “Yeah, I guess we do. I’ve just never had anyone order tea before. I’ll see what I can pull together. And for you?”

“Beer. Imported IPA. Whatever’s on tap.” I thanked the waitress and winked.

She grinned and swayed her hips delightfully. Man, I loved the female form. Long legs, narrow waists, curvy hips, and voluptuous breasts. Instantly, my mind went back to Amber walking away from me earlier in the week. She had an athletic body from all the yoga but with enough curves that a man would have a little bit of something to hold onto when he made love to her.

“Oooh and fresh honey if you have it. I don’t do sugar or aspartame,” Jewel called out.

The waitress held up a hand and waved. “You got it.”

“So, no liquor?” I asked.

“Nope,” both women said simultaneously.

“Yet you agreed to meet me in a bar on a Thursday night?”

Crystal put her hand on my shoulder. Jewel canted her head and pressed her lips together. Both of them looked at me the same way my stepmother who raised me did. Like I was the best thing that ever happened to them.

“Dash, honey, you asked us to come and hear your friend play. You are important to us. Been with us for years. You’re part of our yoga family. Of course we’d accept the invitation.”

I laughed and sat back farther in the booth. “But you don’t drink. Why is that?”

Jewel clasped her hands together on the table. “For me, it’s part of my enlightened path. You know I’m a vegan. In order for me to find my truth, I need to protect my body and only put things into it that are good for me. Alcohol, my young friend, does nothing but alter your perceptions and dull the richness of life around you.”

I swayed my head from side to side, thinking about what she’d said. “I don’t know if it dulls life. Some would say it magnifies it.” I grinned.

Crystal pushed a long lock of golden-blond hair behind her ear. For a woman just hitting her sixties, she could easily bed a man half her age if she wanted. Though I knew her husband, Rick, doted on her and worshipped the ground she walked on, and rightly so. Crystal Nightingale was a knockout. Jewel was no beggar, either. Her slight body and pixie-like features would capture the eye of any man who enjoyed a petite woman.

“To each his own,” Crystal said when the waitress set an entire teakettle and two coffee mugs on the table and then set my pint on a coaster.

“Apparently there is honey in a few cocktails,” the waitress remarked.

“Life is full of surprises wouldn’t you say?” Jewel replied.

Once the waitress left, Crystal nudged my arm. “How did class go with the new assistant? It’s Genevieve’s neighbor Amber, right?”

“They’re neighbors?” I was soaking up any bit of information on the woman that had so recently captured my attention.

Crystal nodded. “Amber lives next door. They grew up together. Smart as a whip, that girl. She’s going to be a doctor.”

“I know. Only twenty-two and already has her sights set and her future laid out.”

“She’ll do it, too. I must say that I caught the two of you talking after class. Seemed a bit friendlier than you usually are with your assistants.”

“Don’t you normally avoid your assistants after class? Something about them all falling in love with you?” Jewel batted her eyelashes playfully.

I groaned. “Am I that predictable?”

They both nodded and waited for me to dish about the tall brunette who very recently had become my favorite morning fantasy. Imagining her naked and sudsy each morning while I stroked myself to release in the shower worked wonders for easing the tension.

“Amber is working out great. I’m helping her out as a favor to Genevieve. I owed her one.”

Crystal sipped her tea. “What did you owe her?”

“She helped me out assisting for a while until her man came along. He doesn’t like the idea of her assisting a Tantric class.”

“I can see that. It’s a very personal experience, and you teach the class so well. Rick loved the course when we took it last year. We were actually thinking about discussing you doing a couples’ Tantric weekend up at Lake Tahoe. A yoga retreat for couples only. The pay would be consistent with what other yogis make at these types of events. What do you think?”

I grinned. “What is that saying?” I tapped the edge of my bottom lip. “Cash is king?”

Jewel and Crystal both balked. “That’s not funny, Dash.”

I full-belly laughed as the two mother types frowned and chastised me. Then they lectured me for the next thirty minutes on the benefits of why money shouldn’t be worshipped, nor should a lot of time be spent on making it. The women believed that if a company provided a service or a product and offered kindness, honesty, and good will toward mankind, the money would simply make its way to the facility.

I believe in a lot of things that could be considered modern, or inlaid in spirituality, karma, and other alternate forms of thought, but that isn’t one of them. Money is money. We use it to get what we need and some of what we want in life. The trick for me has always been to make enough to obtain what I want and want what I have. So far I’ve been successful.

After we finished watching the show, I introduced Crystal and Jewel to Atlas Powers. We spent the night chatting about his ideas for a unique offering that would set Lotus House apart and put it on the cusp of edginess in our chosen field. When we said our goodbyes, the owners offered Atlas two classes a week for heated Vinyasa flow and one spot for his new idea. I couldn’t wait to see what the other female teachers were going to think about Atlas. From what I understood, he’s considered a good-looking guy, and the ladies all swooned for him. That would definitely help him book clients initially. Keeping them, on the other hand, was where the hard work and talent would come in.

T
oday I entered
the yoga room with anxiety and fear as my companions. The lighting was dimmed even more than the last session I’d assisted. On every available sturdy surface was a single red candle. My guess would be fifteen in all. The candlelight gave just enough of a glow that the couples setting up their mats could see the other patrons but not discern every texture or detail. A minty scent wafted across my senses. As if on autopilot, I inhaled a huge breath, appreciating the air expanding my lungs. The crispness that followed exhalation brought with it a sense of peace, calming the ravaged nerves I’d yet to shake.

I felt rooted to the floor. Mentally, I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other as I walked over to the dais. I’d worn a tracksuit over my sports bra and barely-there biking shorts. When I hit the riser, Dash turned around.

I gobbled up his massive bare chest from the top of his clavicle down to the square firm pecs I wanted to feel pressed against my cheek. Each one of his abdominal muscles was a rectangular brick of finely-toned magnificence, leading down to distinct indentations where his hip bones were. He had a trail of hair that started a couple inches above his navel and ran below the loose, white drawstring pants he wore.

I cleared my throat and forced my gaze back up to focus on his eyes. The irises were yellow gold today and marked me in a way that could have lassoed me to his side. My feet seemed heavy, laden with weights as I inched closer. He smiled and then regarded me from head to toe in a quick glance.

“I thought I requested you wear…a little less clothing.” His voice was a sexy rumble.

Without saying a word, I lifted my hand, wrapped my fingers around the zipper-pull, and tugged down. I don’t know what in me called to do so at a leisurely pace, but I did it all the same. Dash watched, his jaw clenched and one eyebrow lifting into a point. Time and space around us slowed as I let each tooth release oh-so slowly, revealing a pale pink sports bra that in this light probably looked nonexistent.

Dash swallowed, his eyes riveted to my body as I let the jacket fall open, revealing my bare abdomen. Then I shrugged, the swish of the fabric the only sound between us. I held my breath but Dash did not. His chest moved powerfully up and down with each labored breath. He licked his lips just as I held the jacket loosely in my right hand before letting the thin material sink to the ground. Then once more, without speaking, I pulled at the drawstring and shimmied my hips left to right ever so slowly as the pants inched down, revealing the tiniest cotton shorts known to mankind. Lord knew I didn’t do that on purpose, but if the carnal way Dash looked at me was any indication, I might have to buy another pair.

Once the pants hit my ankles I kicked them off, standing practically naked in front of the man I’d crushed on for two years. I felt bare. Bare of my misgivings. Bare of my need to hide. Bare of my control.

“My own angel,” he said, awe tingeing each breathy word.

I smiled and felt a heat so intense race up my chest it set my cheeks aflame.

“Have you come to save me?” he teased.

The tone in his voice rumbled around my body, making my knees feel weak and shaky.

Taking from every seductive movie I’d ever watched each time Vivvie told me to let loose, as well as somehow finding the inner vixen in me and setting her free, I responded, “Do you need to be saved?”

His lips twitched as he put one foot in front of the other. I glanced down at his feet. Large, squared-off toes, just a smidgen of hair along the tops. Nice as far as male feet went. I’d bet that hair on top was incredibly soft, too. Not realizing how long I stared at his metatarsals, I shivered when a single finger touched my chin and lifted my head up.

“Would you if you could? Save me, that is?”

I licked my lips and bit down on the flesh. The only answer I could muster lifted me on gossamer wings of honesty. “Yes, I would.”

“Do I deserve saving, little bird?” He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

I closed my eyes against the onslaught of emotions that battered against my heart. He was too close. Too warm. Too everything.

“All of God’s creatures deserve redemption.”

Dash got really close. So close I could no longer discern the presence of air between our bodies. He put one hand on my shoulder and trailed two fingers down my arm. I didn’t move. Couldn’t. I didn’t want to, either. Near him, I felt safe. Safe in the way I did when attending Sunday mass.

“I guess we’ll see about that after today’s class. Go ahead and have a seat on the mat facing my mat. And remember, you always have the itchy nose signal to use. I won’t judge you.”

I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say.”

He smiled huge. Again, that weak feeling hit my knees, and I scrambled to the mat. I took in the dim room and noticed that all the couples were just about finished getting ready and were facing the front of the class.

“Everyone, we’re not going to start with hatha yoga. Today, I want the full ninety minutes to be about your partner. Equally. In Tantra, so much of the connection to our mate depends on our five senses. We’re going to work on two of them. Sound and touch. Let’s start by facing one another.”

Dash came over to his mat and sat in front of me. “Make sure that your knees are touching your partner’s. Then I want you to place your hands on just the outer thighs of the other’s legs. Ground into the Earth together. Close your eyes and start your pranayama breathing technique you learned last week.”

I closed my eyes and started breathing in full and deep. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

“Now, connect your foreheads and keep breathing. Synchronize your breathing.”

Dash’s forehead was warm when it touched mine. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, like the flapping of butterfly’s wings tingling down my spine. I jolted until Dash’s hand cupped the side of my neck holding us together.

“Breathe with me, Amber. In…and out. Slow it down. Do what comes naturally.”

His voice had deepened when he continued speaking to the class again.

“Once your breathing is paired, I want you to slow it down and then alter your breathing pattern. Reciprocate your inhalations so that you are breathing in your partner’s air and vice versa. Do this for a few minutes. If you need to, touch your partner’s face or neck, letting them know you’re there for them. Holding one another, you are in the safest place possible. Together, allow yourselves to be vulnerable. Trust your mate to breathe life into you.”

I sucked in a fast breath, suddenly uncertain. Both of Dash’s hands came up and cupped my neck. He rubbed his forehead back and forth. Every time I’d take a breath, he’d exhale and when he’d exhale, I’d inhale. For long minutes, we shared life, breathing in one another’s breath. My body became weightless, practically floating on the yoga mat as if it were on a magic carpet. The room didn’t matter. The people taking the class were gone. It was just Dash and Amber. Two souls, living one for the other.

“Now that we’ve activated the third eye chakra through breathing, I want you stay where you are and for five minutes, with your eyes closed and breathing reciprocally, share something you love and adore about your partner. Whisper it quietly to only them.”

I waited, holding my breath, as the warmth from Dash’s head settled against mine. I swear it was like a puzzle piece notching itself home. I shook off the thought and tried to let it disappear, but Dash would have none of it, instead, wooing me with his sultry voice.

“Amber, I see your beauty even when you don’t. Everyone does. It is only you who is blind to it,” Dash whispered. I could feel his breath against my face.

Were we doing this? Really doing this? “We barely know each other,” I returned.

He chuckled so low I had to strain to hear him. “The heart knows its mate instinctively.”

“Are you suggesting I’m your mate?”

Dash inhaled as I exhaled, breathing in life-sustaining air. A breath of air I gave him. One that came from my life source. Something incredibly intimate could be found in that single act. One I most assuredly would not feel with another human being again.

“I believe anything is possible. I also know that I’m drawn to you.”

“You’re drawn to anything with legs. I’ve been told you love all women.”

He rubbed his forehead back and forth against mine so that I had no choice but to feel the intention behind the act. “Not true. Women are beautiful, as are men. I’m attracted to those unique qualities in a person. Like you. When you entered today, you were frightened, anxious. Am I right?”

I didn’t answer. He knew too much already from the way I tensed up. This time, he responded by using both hands on my shoulders and massaging my neck, relaxing me physically as an emotional bomb was about to explode internally.

“You don’t have to answer. I know the truth. Yet you took off your clothes as if presenting me with my wildest fantasy come to life.”

With that statement, I attempted to rise, but he held me down. “You were so powerful. With the simple touch of your hands to your clothing, you had me wrapped around your little finger. You could have asked for anything, and I would have given it to you. Absolutely intoxicating.”

“Dash…” I warned, squirming in my seat. My entire body started to tremble.

He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs, never releasing our physical connection. “I watched you shimmy off your clothes as if you were leaving behind an outer layer of skin and baring your soul to me for the taking.”

I didn’t know how to respond. Denying the truth in his statement would be a sin. Not that I didn’t sin regularly. Father McDowell could attest to that, but on average, I attempted to fib as little as possible. Dash made me want to lie. Want to pretend this unholy connection to him was just physical. Did I want to physically be near him? Yes. Lord, yes, a million times over. But doing so would end everything I’d worked for. The true essence of who I wanted to be for the man I would one day wed, bear children for, spend the rest of my days with. I didn’t think it likely that this yoga teacher, a Tantric professor, was that man, but oh, did he tempt me.

“My soul will be gifted to the man who is destined to be my mate.” Her words were even and succinct, conviction breathing confidence.

I grinned. “And why are you so sure that man isn’t me?” I said before I removed our connection and spoke to the class.

“All right, now I want the women to lie longways on the mat. Men, I have set out a basket full of tactile items you can use. First, blindfold your mate. Ladies, if you are uncomfortable with this practice, you can close your eyes, but remember trust doesn’t come easy. It’s a gift. This is a good time to practice that trust.”

Amber lay down on the mat. I held up the blindfold. “Do you trust me?”

Her eyes looked panicked, but her bravado stopped her from giving into it. With a stiff upper lip, she responded. “Not particularly, but I’m not afraid of you. Just give me the blindfold.”

I handed it to her, and she looped it over her head. The red satin was a rich contrast against her pale white skin and dark brown waves. She pursed her lips and then sucked in a breath.

“Now, class, I want you to use whatever items you like from the basket to tease and entice your partner. Only do not speak, and for this round only touch with the item. Let’s keep it PG for now. Ladies, lie back and enjoy the pampering.”

Amber was stiff as a board. I’d definitely need to loosen her up. The girl was wound so damn tight. Before I started in on my victim, I turned on some music. Indian songs were ideal and expected in a yoga setting, but I wanted something that would soothe and entice my clients. Get them outside of their comfort zone and into one far more hypnotic. I pressed play and allowed the flowing strains of Atlas Powers’ guitar to echo through the room. He’d paired his acoustic guitar with a tentative tapping against the wood of the instrument and dubbed it over itself. The result was a mesmerizing forty-five minutes of music for seduction.

Going back to Amber, I sat close enough that she’d feel my heat but not know exactly where I was. She’d have to use her senses and focus on the moment instead of the finicky side of her intellectual mind. Tantra was not about academics or scholarly facts. It was about what a person felt—that meditative space within each of us being tapped and coalescing with the universe and, when in perfect harmony, coexisting with our mate. I wanted that so badly with a woman. Not just any woman. The
One
.