I roll up my mat and look over to Xavier. He’s in the middle of rolling his mat up too. A bead of sweat rolls down his back and curves around his oblique, disappearing into the fold of his shorts. I gulp. I’ve been beneath him, on top of him, and everywhere else on him, but that one bead of sweat has my insides twisting again. I want him. Right now.
“What?” Xavier whispers. He doesn’t look concerned, just confused.
I clear my throat. “Nothing.” I can at least wait until we get home.
He winks at me, rolling on his heels and standing. I grab his extended hand and rise.
He leans down, putting his lips against my earlobe. “You had that look on your face. The hungry one.”
I position my body so that my side is pressed up against his front, blocking us from the view of the other yogi’s. One fingernail starts at his belly button and slides up to the base of his throat. I feel the hiss of breath.
“Not hungry. Starving.” I look up into his eyes.
“Stay here,” he commands, his voice low.
Oh my. What did I just get myself into?
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