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Yeah. Right.
Still, he signed the contract and was determined to uncover every ridiculous, misguided attempt to take his sister's money. He pushed through the glass doors and entered a small studio.
Crap. It was hot.
Sweat immediately formed on his brow and it wasn't just the temperature. Kate stood next to Arilyn, dressed in black yoga pants and matching tank. The Lycra cupped her ass like his fingers itched to do and emphasized the full thrust of her breasts. Her hair was clipped high on her head and gave him full access to the smooth, white flesh of her nape and upper back.
He flicked his gaze quickly away as he hardened. Talk about embarrassing, like a teen sporting a boner from his hot teacher. He turned, thought of his last client, a woman weeping in his office because her husband left her with three kids for his secretary. Biggest cliche of all. Thank God, he got back to normal and crossed the room.
"Morning. Is something wrong with the air?"
Kate grinned. Arilyn cleared her throat and motioned toward the other two men in the room. A large, muscled African American guy sported a shaven head, bulging biceps, and tree-trunk thighs exposed in shorts. The other one was on the skinny side, with red hair, pale skin, and covered from chest to ankle in sweats. Slade perspired more just looking at him.
"Gentlemen, if you'll join me in a circle, please."
The men obeyed as they all glanced at each other, obviously uncomfortable. The big guy grunted, his face pulled into a good imitation of Mr. T.
"Let me introduce you quickly. Slade, this is Meat."
Slade's eyes widened. "Meat?"
Meat glared. "Got a problem with the name?"
"Nope. Just confirming. Nice to meet you."
Meat nodded.
"And this is Trent." Slade greeted the younger one, who looked terrified of what Arilyn would do to him. What kind of counseling was this?
He glanced at Kate, but her bright blue eyes danced with glee, confirming this was going to be bad.
Real bad.
He concentrated on Arilyn's lilting voice. "Each of us has some issues we need to work through in order to be our better selves. The happier and more satisfied we are, the better our relationships. The body holds stress deep in the muscles and blocks many pathways, especially to our heart chakras. Today, we're going to engage in a session of hot yoga, which will break down some of the barriers we erected. Kate is going to help me assist as I guide you through different postures. Concentrate on your body and your breathing. If you feel the need to rest, please do so. I've filled water jugs for each of you and mats are already set up. Any questions?"
Trent made a strangled sound of horror. "I don't like taking my shirt off in front of anyone," he said.
Arilyn nodded. "I understand, but that's one of the blocks I'd like to work with today. There's nothing wrong with your body. You've been used to hiding behind clothes in order to keep women away. It's time to let go a bit."
No. Fucking. Way.
This was not happening to him. Hot yoga? Issues? Yep, Kinnections was as crazy as they come. And he paid one thousand dollars for this?
Slade cleared his throat. "Umm, no offense, but I doubt one session of sweat is going to clear up long-term problems."
"I agree," choked Trent.
Arilyn and Kate stared at him. Hard. He refused to shift his feet, even a little. No way would he be intimidated by one slip of a woman. Or two. He demolished cold-hearted jurors who judged him to be the scum of the earth without a blip.
"I understand your concerns," Arilyn answered. "I'm asking just to have an open mind and give this a chance."
"I'll do it."
Slade jerked back as Meat stepped forward. He left the circle and walked to his purple mat, lowered himself to the floor next to the crazy yellow cushion, and waited for further instruction.
Trent bit his lip and followed.
This was going to be a bad day.
No way was he wimping out. He'd do the silly stretching and report back to his sister they were all loon bugs. He hit the mat, stripped off his shirt, pulled off his socks and shoes, and turned to face them.
Bring it.
Kate grinned.
The session started easy enough. A few salutations to the sun or moon or whatever it was. Some easy pushups. Backbends. Yeah, it was definitely hot, but his muscles actually eased a bit and the tightness from his neck leaked away. Hmm, maybe he was missing this in his normal workout. Soothing flute music drifted from the speakers and wrapped him in calm.
Then it changed.
Arilyn began transitioning into rounds of postures more quickly, and the flute music disappeared to some earthy, urban beat, automatically urging him to pick up the pace. Pushups melted into crazy half-assed sit-ups, to plank, to backbend, and back again. Over and over, she pushed harder, until his muscles stretched and rivers of sweat trickled down his back.
Grouchiness hit. What was she doing? Why did she look so frickin' graceful and stronger than the three of them put together? Slade glanced over at his partners. Meat had his eyes closed, panting for breath as he tried to keep up, and Trent moaned and groaned in agony, trying to unstick his sweatshirt from his soaking skin, red hair flopping over his brow.
"A bit faster, gentlemen. Kate's turning the temperature to the highest setting to release all toxins. Your mind will fight you, but allow your body to surrender."
He muttered a curse under his breath and tried to ignore the quivering muscles in his biceps. He'd die before he quit. Hell, he'd melt in a pile of goo before they beat him.
"Ahhhhhh!"
A primal shout echoed through the room and jolted him out of his posture. Trent gasped, eyes wild, and ripped off his sweatshirt. Slade prepped himself for something horrible--why else wouldn't the kid strip. Maybe a third nipple? Scar tissue? But when he sneaked a look Trent looked--
Normal.
A bit lean, but nothing to stop him from going swimming or anything.
The kid seemed to have freed some inner demon, because then he surrendered to the workout, moving like a demon and making low noises that made Slade uncomfortable.
Well, at least there were two real men left in the room.
"Very good, Trent, let it all go. We're going to start holding our asanas for longer periods to really dig deep."
Oh, goody.
Meat scowled at Arilyn, and Slade figured all those muscles weren't too good for continuous, rapid stretches because his foot got stuck by his leg and didn't make it to the front of the mat. He groaned and tried to inch it forward, looking pissed off and irritated. Slade waited for the explosion, patting himself on the back that they wouldn't break him.
Kate appeared at Meat's side and whispered something in his ear. She eased his leg and placed a purple block under his hip. Meat grunted, closed his eyes, and breathed.
Slade decided to amuse himself by mentally reciting landmark cases and the court judges' briefs. His leg was on fire. So was his skin. He'd never been so uncomfortable or hot in his life, and when he glanced at the clock, he realized he'd only been in the room for fifteen minutes.
They moved out of that torturous position, where he gave a silent prayer of thanks, and Arilyn announced they'd do balancing. Piece of cake.
He'd seen warrior pose in some photos before, and it did look pretty manly. Slade followed her lead, lifting his foot and leaning forward with strength, agility, and confidence.
Then fell on his ass.
Meat and Trent didn't seem to notice. They held the pose like statues. Kate appeared by his side. "Do you need some help?"
Slade scowled. "Of course not. Mat's slippery from the heat."
"Balancing is difficult. Concentrate on your breath and relax."
He glared. Relax when he now knew what being in the center of a roaring volcano with hot lava was like? They should be arrested for torture. But he didn't say a word. Just sucked it up and redid the pose. Over. And over.
"Moving into deep backbends, gentlemen. Foll
ow my lead. Go slow, no reaching or pushing ahead. This is not a competition."
She did something erotically graceful, bending way back and gripping her ankles. Chest up, hair streaming, he figured that was easy enough. He glanced over and saw Trent and Meat a quarter of the way there. Slade hid a smirk and went for it, pushing his back as far as it would go and grabbing his heels.
Which he couldn't find.
He toppled to the right, off balance, and fell over. Meat snickered in manly competitive code, though he pretended to be deep in the moment with his eyes closed. Trent had a proud smile on his face, his bare, gleaming chest arched in symmetry.
Bastards.
