Beckett paced the length of his room anxiously. Why had he agreed to this? He should be studying; he didn’t have time to teach Lana yoga. Good god, why had he even offered?

“Yoga?” Lana asked, the surprise evident both on her face and in her voice.

“Yes,” Beckett said defensively. “It helps improve my focus when I study.”

“No, I don’t doubt it,” Lana said quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound negative, I’m just surprised. You don’t really seem like the yoga type.”

“Well, I am,” Beckett said shortly.

“Are you sure?” Lana asked. Beckett turned to her, indignant, but noticed the smile twitching at her lips. “Because most of the yoga types I know are much more … relaxed.” She stepped closer and Beckett froze, trying to keep his breathing even. He tried to tell himself that he didn’t know why he felt so nervous, but the lie sounded weak, even in his own head.

“They wear a lot of tank tops,” Lana said, ghosting her fingers over the sleeve of his Penderghast jacket. “They’re usually pretty scruffy,” she continued, bringing her hand almost close enough to touch his jaw, but she stopped just short of his skin. He could feel the tiniest heat from her hand and it took all of his restraint to not lean into her touch. “And their hair is … well, let’s say ‘less impeccably groomed.’” She tugged gently on his hair before grinning and turning to continue down the hall. Beckett hesitated, lost in the thought of what it would be like to kneel before Lana as she pulled his hair.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry I understand basic hygiene,” Beckett said, forcing the sarcasm into his voice as he shook away his momentary fantasy and followed after her. Lana laughed.

“I think it’s cool though,” Lana said. “That you do yoga, I mean.”

“I could teach you, if you want.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Really?” Lana asked.

“Yeah,” Beckett said slowly. “I mean, I’m not a certified teacher or anything, but I could take you through some poses.”

“Are you sure?” Lana asked. “Because I’d totally take a break from QuikFlix for that.”

“I mean, you don’t have to rearrange your whole day,” Beckett said, already feeling embarrassed that he’d even offered.

“A chance to see you in a tank top? I’d rearrange my whole week for that.”

Beckett shook his head at the memory. He’d purposely chosen a t-shirt to pair with his gym shorts instead of a tank top, although he did have a few buried at the back of his dresser that he’d bought specifically for yoga. He surveyed his room for what felt like the tenth time. It was organized and tidy, as usual, but he’d laid out a spare yoga mat beside his own. He chewed his bottom lip as he stared at the two mats. Were they too far apart? No, stop it, Beckett scolded himself. This isn’t a date, this is a yoga lesson. It’s nothing.

A sudden knock on his door caused him to jump and he whirled towards the sound.

“Come in,” Beckett called, trying to keep his voice even over the hammering of his heart.

“Hey,” Lana said with a smile as she entered the room. “Sorry I’m late, Shreya caught me on the way out the door with a fashion emergency.”

“Well, you look great,” Beckett said, taking in her gray leggings and black t-shirt, the latter of which made her icy blonde hair that much more prominent. As soon as he realized what he’d said, he felt his cheeks flame. Lana grinned.

“Thank you, but I meant Shreya was having a fashion crisis,” Lana said. “But you look great, too, although … I’m a little disappointed you’re not wearing a tank top.”

“Neither are you,” Beckett pointed out as he busied himself with straightening the already perfectly parallel mats. Lana didn’t say anything, but Beckett heard the sliding of fabric coming from her direction. When he glanced up, his breath caught when he saw she’d taken off her shirt and was wearing only a sports bra. He felt the blood in his body rush south and he looked away trying to think of anything other than the gorgeous, half-naked girl in his room. Dead puppies. Crying grandmothers. Failing out of Penderghast.

“Ready?” Lana asked as she walked to the front of one of the mats.

“Yep.”

Lana stood at the front of her mat and took a deep breath to center herself as Beckett did the same. She couldn’t hint any harder than that. Had she been wrong? Was Beckett not actually interested in her? Lana felt a little bad for not telling him she was a certified yoga instructor, but when he’d offered to teach her, she hadn’t been able to say no.

“Okay, start at the front of your mat, feet shoulder width apart,” Beckett said. “ I figured we’d start with a sun salutation.”

Lana nodded and got into position. Oh well; if she was wrong and he wasn’t actually interested in her, at least she could do some yoga. She’d been studying so hard since she arrived that she hadn’t had time to do much more than a handful of poses before bed at night, so she really needed this.

“On your next inhale, bring your arms straight up over your head,” Beckett said. He demonstrated and she followed suit, sweeping her arms to the sides as they arced up towards the ceiling. “Then bend forward at your waist, bringing your forehead towards your knees. Don’t worry if you can’t quite reach the floor–”

He glanced over at Lana and stopped when she saw her, perfectly folded in half, hands flat on the floor. Christ, she was flexible.

Tornadoes. Famine. Tsunamis. Expulsion from school.

Beckett walked Lana through the rest of A series of the sun salutation. Although she already knew what to do, she found his voice to be a pleasant background to her practice. That was one of the things that really drew her to him–his voice. She loved the sound of it, especially when he said her name. She thought back to the way he’d whispered it in the library and shivered as she imagined him breathing her name against her throat, his hands in her hair.

Thank goodness he couldn’t see the thoughts that were rolling through her head.

“Okay, I have to ask,” Beckett said, turning to face her after they’d gone through the sun salutation flow a few times. “Have you done yoga before?”

“Some,” Lana said casually. When Beckett caught her eye, staring at her with skepticism, she bit her lip. Caught.

“I thought you said you’d never done yoga before,” he said.

“Technically, I never said that,” Lana pointed out. “I said I thought it was cool that you did yoga, and then you offered to teach me. I simply accepted your offer.”

“But …” Beckett started to argue, but stopped. Lana watched as he thought back on their conversation, a flush coming to his cheeks when he realized she was right. “Well, this is embarrassing.”

“No, Beckett, I’m sorry, I know I should’ve said something,” Lana said, stepping closer to him. She hooked her index finger around his pinkie and was relieved when he didn’t pull away.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because …” Lana took a deep breath. “God, isn’t it obvious? I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to spend time with you.”

She waited as he studied her face, his own expression inscrutable. The seconds ticked by and with each passing moment, Lana became less and less sure of herself. But he hadn’t pulled his hand away yet so they stood there, joined at the fingers.

KISS HER! Every cell in his body seemed to be screaming as he stood there with Lana, unable to look away from her face. None of this seemed real; he’d played out similar scenarios in his head over and over, but he was unprepared for the real thing. He looked down at their hands, her index finger and his pinkie together like links in a chain, binding them together.

“Since I’m here,” Lana finally said, breaking the silence, “maybe we could do some partner poses? If you want to, I mean. There are a couple that I really like that I don’t get to do very often because I usually practice alone.”

“Sure,” Beckett said, finally finding his voice again. Lana let go of his hand and he immediately cursed himself once he realized he’d missed his chance. He should’ve kissed her. He’d wanted to kiss her, but he’d been unable to move.

“Great,” Lana said, smiling quickly before she sat down. “To start, we need to sit down back to back.”

Beckett sat with his back against hers and closed his eyes. How could he have been so stupid and not kissed her? Now his chance was gone. He’d ruined it, he was sure.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Lana closed her eyes as Beckett lined up his back against hers. That was it; she’d put it out there, he wasn’t into it. End of story. But then why hadn’t he pulled his hand away? If he really wasn’t interested, wouldn’t he have asked her to leave? Then again, his inaction was an answer … wasn’t it?

“This is a simple breathing exercise,” Lana said, letting herself slip into teacher mode to distract herself from how out of sorts she felt. “We’ll sit here and take some deep breaths, hands relaxed an on your knees. As you breathe, take note of how our rib cages feel when they touch as a grounding exercise. Then, we’ll alternate breathing; you’ll inhale when I exhale and vice versa.”

“Okay,” Beckett said as they settled into the patterns of their breath. Lana felt his body behind hers, the lean muscles of his back supporting her. Soon they fell into an easy rhythm of their breathing, slowly alternating their inhales and exhales. It felt like they were of the same breath, cycling through them, connecting them. Lana tried to focus solely on the present moment, but she couldn’t help her mind from wandering. She pictured herself facing Beckett, his gray eyes connecting with hers as she straddled his lap, breathing as one.

Stop it, she scolded herself. If he’s not interested, you’re going to have to be okay with just being friends. And friends don’t fantasize about other friends.

Beckett couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to bury his hands in Lana’s pale hair as he kissed her. Her back was straight against his as they breathed, in and out, and Beckett desperately wanted to reach behind himself and touch her bare sides with his hands. His cock twitched and he knew he had to keep his mind from wandering. He’d missed his chance. War. Failing midterm exams. Library burned down.

“Next,” Lana’s voice said gently, easing them out of silence, “we’re going to do partner twists. Stay seated where you are and on the next inhale, we’re going to stretch our arms up before lowering them as we twist to the right. Your right hand will be on my left knee and your left hand will be on your right knee. Make sense?”

“Yeah,” Beckett said. They inhaled and twisted and Beckett’s breath caught in his throat for a moment when her hand rested on his knee. She held him gently but firmly and he tried to duplicate the same pressure on her leg.

“Stay here for a few breaths,” Lana instructed and Beckett nodded, realizing too late that she couldn’t see him. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his body, trying to deepen the twist just a little with each new exhale. “Gently release, bring your arms back up on the inhale, and then repeat on the other side,” Lana said.

Beckett did as she said and stretched his body as much as he could in an attempt to drown out his desires. If I were giving myself a grade, I’d be failing.

Once they finished the partner twists, Lana told Beckett to stand up with her. He did and awaited further instruction, his face impassive. Good lord, he was difficult to read.

“Next we’re going to do partner tree pose,” she said.

“How exactly do you make tree pose a partner pose?” Beckett asked, confused. “That one seems pretty solitary.”

“I think you’re missing the forest for the trees,” Lana said with a grin.

“I think you’re using a metaphor that doesn’t make sense in this context,” he countered with a smirk.

“Shush, you’re disrupting my class,” Lana said. “Okay, so we need to stand side by side like this,” she said, standing a couple of feet to his left. “We start by pressing our palms together,” Lana continued, holding up her right hand to face him. Beckett pressed his palm to hers and she immediately noticed how soft his skin was, save for the callus near the first knuckle of his index finger which was likely from his pen after hours spent taking notes in the library. “Shift your weight towards your inner foot–your left, my right–and then when you’re ready, bring the sole of your foot to your calf or thigh,” Lana said, demonstrating the latter. She watched Beckett out of the corner of her eye and was impressed that he brought his foot up to his thigh as well. “When you’re ready, if you want, you can bring your outside arm up, like you’re making a V shape.”

Becket started to raise his arm and immediately wobbled, grabbing her hand for support. He laced his fingers between hers, clinging to her tightly.

“You don’t have to bring your outside arm up, it’s totally optional,” Lana reminded him, although she didn’t exactly want to encourage him to let go of her hand. Beckett ignored her and took a deep breath, stabilizing himself before he slowly raised his arm again.

“If you’re not going to do something perfectly, there’s no point in doing it,” Beckett said. Lana was tempted to point out that he was still holding her hand instead of just resting his palm against hers like he was supposed to, but decided to let it go. Her stomach leaped when she felt Beckett gently rub his thumb against her hand, but it only moved once and then stopped. He was probably just readjusting his grip.

She probably thinks I’m just readjusting my grip, Beckett thought and stopped moving his thumb. He cursed himself yet again for not kissing her before. At least she hadn’t left.

After a few more breaths, Lana led them out of the pose and released his hand. “If you’re up for it, I have a couple more partner poses we can do.”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Beckett said, sounding a little too enthusiastic to his own ears. He cringed inwardly. I may as well accept that I will never, ever look cool in front of her.

“Okay, this one is called temple pose,” she said. “We’ll stand facing each other like this,” she said, standing a few feet in front of him. “Keep your feet hip-width apart and then on your next inhale, raise your arms up.” He did so, mimicking her movement. “Great. Now, slowly bend forward at your waist and bring your hands to mine. Ultimately, our palms, forearms, and elbows will be together once our backs are flat.”

Beckett followed her lead and allowed himself to relax into the pose with her, equally leaning on one another. He felt the stretch in his shoulders and, as he kept his neck in a neutral position and stared at the floor, he could still see some of her long blonde hair out of his peripheral vision. Beckett was pretty sure he could smell it too, that soft coconut aroma that he assumed was from her shampoo. He wished he could bury his face in her hair and forget everything else in the world, just lose himself in the scent and feel of her.

Beckett glanced up at found her looking at him. He was about to ask her why when she suddenly stuck her tongue out at him. Beckett laughed, completely caught off guard, and nearly lost his balance.

“Careful!” Lana jokingly reprimanded him. “You’ll make us both crash if you fall.”

“Sorry, I guess I was distracted,” he said with a grin as he rolled his eyes.

“Really, Harrington, I thought your focus was better than that,” Lana teased. “Slowly walk towards me when you’re ready,” she instructed. They stepped closer, leaning on one another until they were close enough to stand on their own. They both dropped their arms but, impulsively, Beckett hooked her pinkie with his index finger.

“My focus is exceptional,” he said. “I’m just not focused on yoga at the moment.”

The air between them shifted, that electric charge before a moment that could change everything. He’d missed his chance earlier, but he wasn’t going to miss it again.

Beckett Harrington never made the same mistake twice.

Before he could overthink it, Beckett leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. When she kissed him back, parting her lips against his, Beckett deepened the kiss, resting his palms against the sides of her neck before sliding his fingers into her hair. He felt her slide her hands around his waist before pressing her to him. He was sure she could feel how much he wanted her, but he couldn’t have distracted himself if he tried. Beckett was entirely bewitched and consumed by her, malleable metal in her fiery sun hands.

“Sit down on the floor,” Lana murmured as Beckett kissed the spot on her neck just below her ear, making her shiver. He did as she asked and she knelt down with him, drawing him into another kiss as she straddled his lap. Lana wrapped her legs around his waist and Beckett gently pressed his palm to the bare skin on her lower back. She stayed there a while, resisting the urge to rock her hips against his as they kissed.

“Is this okay?” she whispered, tugging up a little at the hem of his t-shirt. Beckett nodded and allowed her to gently pull his shirt up and over his head before tossing it aside. She reached behind her and undid her sports bra before discarding it like she had his shirt. Beckett kissed her again, softly, slowly, taking his time. Lana closed the distance between them, letting her bare skin brush against his. As he kissed her, Beckett’s fingertips ghosted over her skin, floating slowly up her back before trailing down her arms, tickling the backs of her hands, before heading back the way they came.

It was taking all of Beckett’s restraint to take his time with her, but he didn’t want to leave even an inch of her skin untouched. After what felt like an eternity, he let his fingertips fall forward over her shoulders, gently tracing the curve of her breasts. Lana sighed with pleasure into his mouth as they kissed but Beckett’s fingers drifted away, down her sides and up her back before finally returning to her front. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, already hard beneath his touch. She gasped against his lips and Beckett let his kisses trail down her neck. His breath was hot on her skin as he made his way lower but, just before he kissed her nipple, he made his way back up and kissed the hollow of her throat.

Every molecule in her body seemed to be charged with electricity and Lana was having a hard time thinking clearly. This slow, teasing pace was excruciating in the most intoxicating way and it took all of her willpower to not speed things up. But she wasn’t sure she’d ever been quite so turned on her life, so she let him take the lead, even though she was curious if anyone had ever died from sexual anticipation before.

When Beckett finally took one of her nipples in his mouth, she moaned, louder than she’d expected, as he slowly traced her with the tip of his tongue. Lana dropped her head back as Beckett put his hands flat against her shoulder blades, keeping her body close to him. He kept up his languid pace but Lana could feel how hard he was through his gym shorts. She did her best to keep her breathing slow and even, matching his pace.

Beckett flicked his tongue over her hardened buds again and this time, she couldn’t stay still. Lana cried out, her hips involuntarily bucking against his. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, his tongue folding into hers.

“Can I take these off?” Beckett asked softly, hooking a finger in the waistband of her leggings. Lana nodded and slowly climbed to her feet, her knees rubbery from the way Beckett’s hands had made her feel. She started to pull down her leggings but Beckett climbed to his knees and put his hands over hers, stilling them. Lana watched with hooded eyes as Beckett placed slow kisses along her stomach before he slowly began to pull down her leggings, his lips blessing each new bit of exposed skin with a kiss. When he realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear, he groaned softly and flicked his eyes up towards hers, pupils wide and dark, before he continued down her legs.

Once he’d completely removed her leggings, Beckett began to kiss and caress his way back up her legs, starting at her feet and slowly urging her legs apart so he could kiss her inner thighs. He traced the sensitive skin there with his fingertips, making her jump slightly. Beckett grinned and Lana ran her fingers through his brown hair, anxiously watching to see what he’d do next.

Keeping his eyes on hers, Beckett leaned in and teased her lips apart with his tongue. Christ, she tasted so good and was so wet. He reminded himself to go slowly as he took his time, tasting each part of her, but never quite touching her swollen pearl, not yet. Lana moaned and he felt her grip his hair, tugging him closer, and he had fight back the swell of pleasure in himself. His time would come–this was about her. He knelt before the sun goddess with the ice blonde hair, anxious to worship her.

Lana could feel the desperate, demanding swell of an orgasm growing within her as Beckett slowly licked and sucked and teased her wet folds. He briefly flicked his tongue over her clit and she moaned, knees nearly buckling. Beckett’s strong hands on her hips held her upright, but only just. He did it again, and again, and Lana knew she was close, so close–and then he stopped, his kisses traveling up and over her hip.

“Please …” she begged, breathlessly.

“I know,” he murmured against her skin. “Soon, I promise.”

He sat back onto the ground and helped Lana down to join him. She wasn’t sure when he’d taken off his pants but now he was naked too, rolling a condom onto a rather impressive member. At least she knew now why he was so cocky. Lana felt a physical ache as she watched him, desperate to feel him inside of her. She crawled to him, straddling him once more. He kissed her, one hand knotting in her hair.

“May I?” he whispered in her ear, teasing the tip of his cock against her entrance. She nodded, overcome with anticipation. Beckett eased her hips down onto him, entering her slowly. Lana moaned, nearly collapsing onto his shoulder at the sensation of him inside her, filling her, stretching her to an almost painful pleasure. Once he was fully inside of her they both stopped moving, breathing hard, each taking a moment to register this new feeling in their overly sensitive bodies. Lana tilted his face towards her and was floored by the open honesty and emotion in his stormy gray eyes. He was usually so guarded, so protected, but right now, here, with her, she’d never seen him quite so vulnerable. Lana leaned forward and kissed him gently, her breath mixing with his as she breathed him in, wishing she could take him in like air into her lungs.

Beckett’s deft fingers trailed over her stomach to where their bodies met, his fingertips brushing against her clit. Lana moved slowly on top of him, up and down, taking her time. Beckett found it difficult to keep his focus when all he wanted to do was lose himself in the feeling of her wrapped around him, her voice purring in his ear, but still he held on. As he teased her, he could tell when she was close, her face flushed and her breathing rapid. It was then he backed off, giving her time to recover before he brought his fingers to her once more.

After a few rounds of this, her pace grew faster, more impatient.

“Please,” she begged again, her voice thin and desperate. Beckett replied by kissing her deeply and pressing his thumb against her clit, pushing her over the edge.

Every nerve in her body was lit up like the sun as she came, crashing over the precipice. Her vision fuzzed around the edges as Beckett flipped her over onto her back, thrusting into her as her orgasm rolled on. No sooner had she finally started to come down when Beckett lifted her legs up onto his shoulders and pounded into her at just the right angle. Lana’s body undulated with the force of another orgasm as she cried out his name and, this time, Beckett groaned as he came, pulsing inside of her with his own release. Lana tightened around him one more time, grinning at the obvious, overwhelming pleasure on his face that nearly caused him to collapse on top of her. But he maintained his control and gently lowered her legs before bending down to kiss her again.

“I’ll be right back,” Beckett said as he climbed to his knees. “Don’t leave.”

Lana smiled at his request, bemused; where was she going to go? She watched as he stood up, unable to look away from the gorgeous body that had been hiding beneath his uptight, preppy wardrobe as he walked to the bathroom. When he closed the door, Lana stretched out on the yoga mat and closed her eyes, a dull buzz of electricity still coursing through her body.

After he’d tossed the condom and used the bathroom, Beckett examined himself in the mirror. He suddenly felt self conscious standing naked under the fluorescent lights. Should he put on a towel? That seemed kind of silly considering they’d just had sex–she knew what he looked like. But what if he walked out and she was fully dressed and ready to leave? Beckett didn’t want to stand there, completely exposed, if she was.

“Screw it,” he muttered, grabbing a dark blue towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. He looked at himself again in the mirror and noticed a small mark on his collarbone. An oxford shirt would cover it, not that he minded it being there in the first place. Beckett kind of liked being branded as hers. He straightened up and took a deep breath.

Don’t mess this up.

When the bathroom door opened, Lana glanced over and was surprised to see Beckett wearing a towel. Should she have gotten dressed while he was in there? He’d said not to leave, but maybe he just meant don’t leave yet so he could say goodbye.

“What’s with the towel?” she asked, finally deciding that being direct was going to be far less frustrating than dancing around with the anxieties in her own head.

“Um,” Beckett said, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to be dressed or not.”

Lana grinned as she climbed to her feet and crossed the room to him. “I’m not.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

Lana kissed the corner of his mouth and Beckett wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. She reached for the towel around his waist and tugged it free, letting the terrycloth fall to the ground in a heap.

“You know,” Lana said, “any yoga practice should really end with savasana.”

“True,” Beckett agreed. “But … I think the bed would probably be more comfortable than the floor.”

“Mr. Harrington, I’m shocked!” Lana said, pulling back to look him in the face. “That’s clearly against the rules of yoga.”

Beckett shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a rule breaker.”

Lana laughed, her voice ringing out in his room. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot what a badass you are.”

Beckett grinned as he led her over to his bed. It was a narrow student bed, but there would be enough room for them to lie side by side as long as they were touching–which was more than fine with him. Lana climbed between the sheets and Beckett watched, committing the image to memory. He hoped this wouldn’t be the only time he saw her like this, but he never wanted to forget what she looked like in this exact moment.

“Coming?” Lana asked when she noticed he was still standing beside the bed. He climbed in beside her and lay on his back, her shoulder, hip, and thigh pressed against his. His body was spent and exhausted, and yet he felt excitement stirring again already.

They lay quietly together, both relaxing into the mattress and the plush fabric of Beckett’s sheets. Finally, Lana spoke.

“You know,” she said, hooking her index finger to his pinkie, “I had no idea that that’s what was hiding beneath that stuffy exterior.”

He squeezed his pinkie around her finger. “Neither did I.” Beckett heard her shift and when he glanced over, she was lying on her side, looking at him. “I mean, it’s not like this was my first time or anything, but that was …”

“Intense?” she offered.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I …”

“What?”

Beckett felt his face flame again and couldn’t believe he was going to tell her. “I read a book on tantric sex once and I’ve always really wanted to try it out, but … this is the first time I’ve ever tried any of the techniques.”

Lana chuckled and hooked her leg over his hip, pulling him closer to her. “I think you passed your practical exam.”

“Wonderful, my parents will be so thrilled,” Beckett said, rolling his eyes. Lana laughed and he kissed her face, her forehead, her cheeks, her ears, her eyelids, and her nose before finally kissing her lips again. Happy and grateful and satisfied, he relaxed into his bed with Lana curled into his side and her head on his chest. They soon drifted into sleep, their breathing subconsciously synching as it gently flowed in and out, in and out.

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