Honey Flava

I couldn’t wait.

Gimme Some Yang

LARISSA LYONS

I SAUNTERED UP THE Zen-scaped path, heading to the entrance with anticipation flaring in my loins. Today was the day I indulged myself—or made every attempt to.

When it comes to things I love, I tend to overindulge. (Chocolate, sex, margaritas…did I mention chocolate?) To better myself, I’d devoted this year to finding balance.

I wrapped my fingers around the tail of the metal dragon that doubled as a handle and opened the door of the sanctuary I’d discovered seven weeks ago. Crossing from the humid outdoors into the cool, inviting interior, I was reminded of how I’d learned to balance chocolate brownies with chocolate fudge and strawberry margaritas with coconut-lime ones.

The sex? Unfortunately, it’s easy to abstain when no one of your acquaintance has the spark to fire your engines. I’d gone almost the entire year balancing hand jobs with vibrator usage, but everything had changed the day I discovered the White Dragon Center for Healing Arts, run by the delectable Yang brothers.

One look at the muscular, dark-haired studs and I knew—they could be the yang to my yin anytime.

A

s always, my poor clit was instantly on alert the second I entered the sprawling building that housed the wide variety of services available at the White Dragon. I still hadn’t determined exactly how many sexy siblings there were or taken advantage of everything their center offered, but what I had tried so far (Beginner’s Yoga, under the expert tutelage of the fine Taek Dae Yang) was definitely working…working me into one sex-starved—but limber—thirtysomething ready to indulge.

Bells chimed as I walked down the long hallway leading to the yoga studio. Never before had I arrived early enough to hear them. The melodic tones echoed around me, striking just the right note and causing subtle vibrations throughout my body. In the resulting stillness, I thought of how I’d balanced my lack of sex with an abundance of fantasies—all spun around the tall, chiseled Korean who looked better in a black T-shirt and exercise shorts than any man had a right to.

For almost two months now, in an attempt not to seem like an overeager yoga groupie, I’d been careful not to arrive excessively early, not to throw my back out trying to impress Taek, and not to step on my tongue—which I considered my greatest feat of all, considering how it hung out of my mouth as I drooled weekly over his hard body.

But today, I was going in with a new plan, determined to get what I wanted…which was Taek’s well-proportioned cock sliding between my thighs (those tight shorts left little to the imagination). I reached the end of the hallway and stepped through the curtain of hanging bamboo strands.

Taek was the only one in the mirrored room, and I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind. “Do you think I’m flexible enough to take your intermediate class?”

He released the yoga blocks he’d been stacking and stood. Our eyes locked; his were glowing, dark slits.

“Ah…” He blinked. “I’ve been watching the way you move.” His statement was as loaded as my clit. “Your technique needs a little work, but I agree, your body seems primed for more advanced asanas, perhaps even vinyasa work.”

Asanas were poses, I knew, but…“Vinyasa…performing select moves in a certain order to bring about a desired end result? Usually heat in the body. Is that right?” I questioned my understanding of the term, knowing exactly which select moves and desired end result I wanted with him.

Taek’s eyes flashed to my hips, then rose, catching mine again. His high cheekbones lifted when he smiled. “That is one way to word it, although we could improve upon your interpretation. Stay after class,” he suggested, fisting his hands and placing them on his waist, drawing my attention downward. I saw the erection growing beneath his black trunks. “I’ll direct you through a few moves, make sure you are prepared for my intermediate class.”

The scent of sex suddenly permeated the air between us. Could he smell my arousal? I swallowed and attempted to balance my eagerness to fuck him with my need to appear in control. “I’ll be happy to stay and learn any moves you want to share, Mr. Yang.” I pulled my bottom lip down with one finger, staring at him in invitation. “You can count on it.”

“I will.” Boldly, he reached into his shorts and adjusted himself, his eyes never leaving mine. “And call me Taek.”

The next hour was fraught with tension.

As yogi wannabes filed into the workout room, sexual excitement percolated through my every muscle. Surprisingly, Taek avoided making eye contact with me during the entire class, but he did put his hands on me every chance he got.

When everyone practiced the Downward-Facing Dog, Taek took the opportunity to trail his fingertips along my spine, causing me to hum with pleasure.

When the other students had their heads averted, holding the Triangle pose, Taek corrected my posture by easing his hands between my upper thighs and separating them farther apart. I barely bit back a moan.

Near the end of class, Taek led us through several relaxation asanas, ending with Mountain pose, which he instructed us to do with our eyes closed, while he talked about the importance of proper breathing. And familiarized himself with every nuance of my ass.

Could one hyperventilate while practicing yoga?

By the time the last student exited through the bamboo-curtained doorway, leaving us alone in the spacious room, my crotch felt so swollen, I could hardly stand.

“We could go to my office,” Taek offered, his hand on the red velvet fabric he’d just allowed to drop in front of the waving bamboo strands. “Or I could demonstrate here.”

“Here is fine,” I eked out through a throat thick with unfulfilled desire. I needed my exercise clothes off and his cock in before I imploded.

“Someone might come by.” He walked toward me, stacking the leftover yoga mats he passed. “We don’t want to be interrupted.” He straightened and pulled his shirt over his head, mussing his thick hair. Once his shirt was gone (thank God), I noticed his tattoo. Centered on his back, directly between his shoulder blades, black slashes etched an awesome-looking Chinese symbol into his skin. As I started to ask what it meant, the look on his face made the thought evaporate.