Page 14 of Better When Shared (Kristin Lance Anthologies #2)

Nisha

Julian’s words from earlier echoed in my head as I rolled out my yoga mat. This hall pass proposal wasn’t anything I’d ever considered asking for, but now that I had his permission, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

I adjusted my tank top, hyperaware of how the built-in bra pressed against my hard nipples. Why had I flirted with my husband before class? It was impossible to focus and relax after he’d gotten me so worked up. Now, I was in a room full of very nice bodies in very little clothing.

The tall blond Brit I’d mentioned to Julian arrived a few minutes after me, of course. And I tried not to ogle him as he set up his station two mats away. He’d shown up for class a few days ago, and I hadn’t ever spoken to him.

Not that I was planning to fuck him or anything. I’d casually mentioned the guy to Julian just to gauge his reaction. I hadn’t expected my husband to look so excited about the prospect. And now, my fantasies kept wandering off into very forbidden territory.

“Good evening, class!”

Carly’s voice broke through my thoughts. She stood at the front of the studio, her tiny frame somehow commanding the room.

“It’s a new month, so we’re switching our theme. As I’m sure you’ve seen on our schedule, we’re focusing on deep release through partner work for the entire month, so I hope you’ve brought someone to work with!”

My stomach dropped. Shit. I never remembered to check that damn schedule for her monthly themes.

“If you don’t have a partner with you, not to worry! Find a buddy!”

Carly clapped her hands together.

“We’ll be using gentle resistance to deepen our stretches.”

The room shifted as people paired up with their spouses, partners, or friends. Several women—and two men—remained alone, and all of them looked toward the British guy. Of course, they did. Even in loose joggers and a simple tank, his body was a goddamn masterpiece.

He caught me staring, and his lips quirked up. Fuck. I averted my gaze, suddenly fascinated by adjusting my already-perfect mat.

“Need a partner?”

I looked up into green eyes so bright they seemed almost unreal. Up close, I could see the faint stubble along his jaw, a tiny scar near his chin. I glanced towards the other singles, who were already pairing off, limiting my options.

“Uh, yeah.”

Why was my voice so throaty and breathless? “Sure.”

“I’m Caleb.”

He extended his hand, and I slid mine into it. His palm was warm, calloused in places that suggested he did more than yoga. The contact sent a ridiculous flutter through my stomach.

“Nisha.”

He nodded, giving me a cute, shy smile.

“I hope you won’t judge my skill. I saw you murdering crow pose in last week’s class.”

Heat crawled up my neck at the idea that he’d been watching me, too.

“Not murdering. Maybe maiming.”

His laugh was deep, genuine. He moved his mat next to mine, close enough that I caught his scent—something woodsy with a hint of citrus.

“All right, everyone,”

Carly called out.

“We’ll start with seated spinal twists. Partners, sit back-to-back.”

I settled against Caleb’s back, feeling the unyielding hardness of his muscles. His warmth seeped through my thin bra top, my body aching with unmet needs from my earlier flirtation with Julian.

Why hadn’t we made time for a quickie? Instead, Julian had put all kinds of ideas in my head.

We shifted until my spine aligned with his, the hard planes of his shoulder blades pressing against me.

“Inhale together,”

Carly instructed.

“On the exhale, partner A will twist right while partner B twists left.”

As we moved through the motion, Caleb’s muscles shifted against my back. I found myself hyper-focused on every point of contact—the press of his triceps, the brush of his elbow, the way his breathing synchronized with mine. Every inch of my skin was aware of his body.

“Now switch sides,”

Carly said.

“And remember to communicate with your partner—tell them if you need more or less pressure.”

As we twisted in the opposite direction, Caleb’s hand brushed mine. His fingers lingered for just a second too long.

“That’s nice. I’ve been flying a lot, so my back is killing me,”

Caleb murmured.

I couldn’t remember how to make words, so I just made a vague affirmative sound. Fuck, why was this so sexy?

We flowed through several more poses, each more intimate than the last. For standing forward bends, Caleb stood behind me, his hands on my hips, guiding me deeper into the stretch. My ass pressed against his thighs, and I could have sworn I felt him harden. Or maybe that was just a daydream. Still, my skin felt tuned to his touch, aching for more.

Would Julian be turned on or angry if he saw us right now? He’d seemed excited by the concept of the hall pass, and I imagined him watching, rubbing his cock through his sweats as I ground back against Caleb’s crotch.

During a partnered warrior pose, Caleb stood behind me, one hand on my extended arm, the other on my waist, his breath hot against my neck. When his fingers tightened on my hip, liquid heat pooled between my legs, and I yelped, losing my balance. He caught me, hauling me closer as he steadied me.

“Careful, now,”

he whispered.

For the final partner stretch, we faced each other in a wide-legged seated position, feet touching, hands clasped as we pulled each other forward in turn. When I leaned back, pulling him toward me, his gaze dropped to where my top had shifted, revealing more cleavage than I’d intended. I went to adjust it, then caught his eyes on me, and just… left it like that.

His eyes trailed down over my breasts and caught on my wedding ring.

“I’m surprised your husband lets you out of his sight.”

A rush of guilt-laced excitement flooded through me.

“It’s interesting you bring that up,”

I heard myself say.

“Because he’s been encouraging me to… explore my options.”

Caleb’s eyebrows shot up.

“Has he now?”

“We, um...”

I hesitated, then plunged ahead.

“We have an arrangement. A hall pass.”

His pupils dilated, his eyes skimming down over my body.

“Fascinating.”

For the rest of class, each touch felt weighted with new meaning. When Carly directed him to press on my lower back during a forward fold, his fingers splayed wider than necessary, his thumbs brushing the top of my ass. When I helped stabilize his shoulder stand, my hands lingered on his thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath my touch.

By the time Carly guided us through final relaxation, my skin buzzed with electricity. I couldn’t focus on my breath or the meditation—all I could think about was Caleb’s body and what it would feel like without the barrier of clothes.

Class ended, and students began rolling up mats, chatting a little. I gathered my things, acutely aware of Caleb doing the same beside me.

“Good class.”

I felt shy now that we weren’t being directed to touch each other.

“Could be better,”

he replied, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I swallowed hard.

“How’s that?”

Instead of answering, he glanced around, then took my hand, tugging me toward a small alcove by the prop storage area. I had no idea who moved first, but we slammed into each other, his lips finding mine, his body pressing me against the wall. The kiss was hungry, demanding, his tongue sliding against mine as his hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him.

I gasped into his mouth, my overstimulated body arching into his touch. My hands found his shoulders, solid and warm beneath his tank, and I dug my fingers in. Could I fuck this man?

What had Julian suggested? Story time, where I tell him how this stranger’s big cock feels inside me.

That was absurd, wasn’t it?

His thigh pressed between my legs, creating a delicious pressure where I needed it. I ground against him, shameless in my sudden, desperate need. His hands slid under my shirt, fingertips grazing the skin above my yoga pants.

“Fuck,”

he breathed against my mouth.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you.”

The words sent a fresh surge of heat through me, and I grabbed his shirt and pulled him down for another kiss—right as I heard a familiar voice nearby.

“Thanks for the class, Carly! See you Thursday!”

It was one of the regulars, Lindsay, the redhead who always set up in the front row. Not someone I knew well, but someone who knew Julian, too, since he sometimes came to class. And just like that, the reality of what I was doing crashed over me, making me freeze.

I pulled back, breathing hard.

“I can’t... I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Disappointment flashed across Caleb’s face, but he stepped back, giving me space.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Reaching for my bag, I shook my head.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine. Thinking I could do this damn hall pass thing. But I don’t know. I love my husband, you know?”

Caleb smiled and gave me a little kiss on the forehead.

“That’s an admirable quality, Nisha.”

But I was, and there was no stopping it.

With a quick goodbye, I rushed out of the studio and hurried down the block to our townhouse, which was just around the corner.

As I slipped inside, my body was still humming from Caleb’s hands, his mouth, the hard press of him against me in that alcove. Even as my mind swirled with guilt and regret.

The kitchen light was on, and I could hear Julian moving around upstairs. I hurried up the stairs, needing him more than I wanted to admit.

Julian was in our bedroom, laptop balanced on his knees, glasses sliding down his nose. He looked up when I entered, and I didn’t miss how his eyes darkened as they swept over me—hair disheveled, cheeks still flushed. Setting the laptop aside, he gave me his full attention.

“How was yoga?”

His voice was casual, but his body language wasn’t.

“Interesting.”

I dropped my bag by the door and crossed to the bed, crawling onto it until I straddled him.

“We did partner work tonight.”

His hands found my hips.

“Yeah? Who’d you partner with?”

I ran my fingers through his dark hair.

“Remember that British guy I mentioned?”

Julian’s breath caught. His fingers dug into my hips.

“The hot one?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

I ground against his growing erection, feeling powerful at his immediate response.

“He’s even better up close.”

“Tell me,”

Julian whispered, his eyes locked on mine.

“Did he touch you?”

His voice was quiet, reverent, and not at all angry.

“Would you be angry if he did?”

“Not at all.”

The dark arousal in his eyes infused me with courage. He wasn’t mad.

I leaned down, lips brushing his ear.

“He put his hands all over me.”

I took Julian’s hands and guided them under my shirt, up to my sports bra.

“Right here, when he helped me with shoulder stretches.”

Julian’s fingers slipped beneath the fabric, finding my nipples already hard. He pinched them, making me gasp.

“And here,”

I continued, guiding one of his hands down to my ass.

“When he deepened my forward fold.”

“Fuck,”

Julian groaned. In one swift movement, he flipped us, pressing me into the mattress.

“Did you like it?”

I arched against him. “Yes.”

He yanked my yoga pants down, his eyes widening when he discovered I wasn’t wearing underwear.

“Did you go to class like this? Bare pussy under these tight pants?”

“No,”

I laughed breathlessly as he settled between my thighs.

“I took them off in the studio bathroom. After. They were… a little wet.”

“After what?”

His fingers found me slick and swollen.

I bit my lip, watching his face as I spoke.

“After he kissed me.”

Julian froze for just a second, then plunged two fingers inside me with unexpected force. I cried out, back arching off the bed as he worked my clit with his thumb.

“You’re so fucking wet. Where?”

he demanded, thumb circling my clit as his fingers worked me.

“Where did he kiss you?”

“In an alcove,”

I gasped, riding his hand.

“Or do you mean where on my body?”

Julian chuckled.

“Either? Both.”

“That little hall by the prop storage, where anyone could see. He pulled me in after class and just—fuck, Julian—I told him about the hall pass, and he just sort of went for it, kissed me on the lips, pressed his muscular body up against me.”

Julian’s eyes were black with arousal, pupils blown out.

“And what did you do?”

“I kissed him back.”

The confession ripped from me as his thumb pressed harder.

“It’s embarrassing how much I wanted him. His hands were everywhere, and his cock was so hard against my stomach—”

Julian’s mouth crashed down on mine, swallowing my words. He yanked his own clothes off with frantic movements, then returned to me, cock pressing insistently against my entrance.

“More,”

he growled against my lips.

“Tell me more.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him forward.

“He pressed me against the wall,”

I whispered as Julian pushed inside me.

“His thigh between my legs, grinding against my clit while he kissed me.”

Julian bottomed out.

“Did it feel good?”

He rotated his hips, hitting a spot that made me cry out.

“Yes,”

I hissed, digging my nails into his back.

“So good. So wrong, but…”

He began to move, long, deep strokes that had me seeing stars.

“What else?”

“His hands,”

I managed between thrusts.

“Under my shirt. Rough. Like he couldn’t wait to touch me.”

Julian’s pace quickened. He sat back on his knees, grabbing my legs and pushing them toward my chest, changing the angle. Each thrust glided against my g-spot.

“His cock,”

Julian prompted, sweat beading on his forehead as he drove into me.

“Could you feel it? Was he big?”

“Yes,”

I whimpered, though in truth I’d only felt the outline through his pants.

“So big. So hard. I wanted to touch it, but I chickened out.”

“What did you want?”

His voice was strangled, hips jerking faster.

“Did you want him to fuck you right there?”

“Yes,”

I confessed, the pressure building inside me.

“I wanted—I wanted—”

“What?”

Julian demanded, one hand leaving my leg to find my clit, circling it in a perfect rhythm.

“What did you want?”

“Both of you,”

I cried out as the first wave of orgasm hit me.

“I wanted him to fuck me while you watched. I wanted you to see how wet he made me, how desperate—”

Julian groaned, his hips stuttering as he came inside me. The pulsing of his cock triggered another wave of my own orgasm, and I convulsed around him, vision whiting out as pleasure tore through me.

We collapsed in a sweaty tangle, breathing hard. Julian pulled me against his chest, his heartbeat thundering under my ear.

“Fuck,”

he whispered, his voice raw.

“That was...”

“Yeah.”

I traced patterns on his damp skin, feeling the aftershocks still rippling through me.

“That was something else.”

He tilted my chin up to look at him.

“So, what happened after the kiss?”

I nodded, watching his reaction.

“I stopped before it went further. Someone walked by and I—I felt guilty.”

Julian’s eyes softened.

“You don’t have to feel guilty. This was my idea, remember?”

His fingers traced my jawline.

“The hall pass. You followed the rules.”

“I know, but...”

I hesitated.

“It felt more complicated in the moment. Like I was doing something wrong, even with permission.”

He was quiet for a moment, his hand making soothing circles on my back.

“Would you see him again? Outside of yoga, I mean.”

The question hung between us, loaded with implications.

“Would you want me to?”

I countered, watching his face.

Something flickered in his eyes—desire, possessiveness, something else I couldn’t quite name. “Yes,”

he admitted, voice rough.

“I think I would.”