The Tantric Principle

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“Breathe.”

The low, gravelly voice stirred in her ear, and strong hands grasped her hips with capable fingers and pushed. Bent over at the waist in a full yoga pose, her body sank down an inch. He hooked his bare feet around her ankles and leaned over her as if about to take her from behind.

Arianna prayed for strength as her arms shook with the effort to hold the pose. Her spine automatically straightened, but he softened the movement further by gently placing both palms on her shoulders. Heat rushed through the thin material of her t-shirt and burned. With slow, conscious movements, he stroked down the length of her spine to settle at the small of her back.

She kept her eyes closed, concentrated on breathing, and mercifully, felt him move away toward the next student.

Arianna Devlin took a moment from her relaxed stance to curse fluently. Well-versed in standard truck driver language, she applied her skills with enthusiasm. Not that her yoga teacher would approve. And the whole damn time she listened to him counsel her, she imagined getting rid of the stress in bed.

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