Read Loving Ms. Wrong for Free Online Page B

across my face despite my best
intentions. “How else would there eventually be little boy scouts
in the world if they didn’t kiss girls?”
    He laughs, long and loud, tipping his head
back on the futon. “Touché. Good one.” He turns his smiling face
toward me. “You have a sense of humor when you want to.”
    “Haven’t had a lot to laugh about
recently.”
    “Oh.” He looks lost for what to say. “You
mean having to move in here?”
    I stand and move a few feet from the couch,
eager to stretch out my muscles and lose some of the tension
knotting me up inside. “The move was the last in a string of shitty
breaks.”
    Marcus sits up and watches me. “What are you
doing?”
    “I plan on stretching, do you mind? I think
I may have pulled something when I fell in the store.”
    His gaze roams over me, igniting sparks deep
in my middle. “Not at all.” He smiles, a wolfish grin if there ever
was one. “Please proceed.” Heat seeps into my limbs—brought on, I’m
sure, by knowing he’s watching me. “If you’re really in pain I
could rub your back for you.”
    “Thanks.” I smile, facing away from him.
“I’ll keep the offer in mind.”
    I raise my arms over my head and feel the
twinge in my back from earlier. Dammit, I should have done this
right away instead of allowing my unease in his presence to make me
immobile.
    Lowering my hands to the floor, I stretch
slowly and gently, easing away the tightness with each breath. Once
my palms lay flat on the floor, I slide them to wrap around my
ankles and bend deeper into the move.
    “You’re really in great shape. How many days
a week do you work out?”
    “Uh… Every day?” I turn my head to where
he’s seated. “I can’t sleep if I don’t meditate.”
    “What does meditating have to do with
working out?”
    I return my palms to the floor then jump my
legs back to position myself for downward facing dog.
    “Hey now. Look at you, sexy yoga lady. That
pose certainly conjures some nice ideas.”
    I hear the smile in his voice, so I ignore
the comment and answer his previous question. “Yoga was originally
developed to strengthen the body for long hours of meditation.”
    “Really? The things you learn from a hot
girl with her ass in the air…”
    I laugh, sinking deeper into the stretch.
“You think I’m hot? Thanks.”
    “Oh come on… you ladies always pretend you
have no idea when you’re attractive. But seriously, you do own a
mirror, right?”
    A quick glance under my arm reveals he’s
still sitting casually on the futon, my robe opening up slightly to
expose his well-muscled chest. “Couldn’t the same be said for guys?
Some of you seem to relish in pretending you’re not
attractive.”
    “That’s not me.” He stretches out his long
legs and crosses his arms behind his head, the perfect epitome of
confidence and arrogance. “I know I’m good-looking.”
    I snort. “And so modest, too.”
    “Am I supposed to play dumb and pretend to
think I’m ugly? Life is too short for that kind of BS. You might
not be able to tell while wearing this fluffy concoction, but I
like to dress nice. That’s not a crime, is it?” He shifts his arms
to cross over his stomach, lending a defensive air to his lounging.
“Are you going to tease me and call me a metrosexual now, too?” His
tone turned snarky at the end. I’m guessing this is a sore spot for
him. I wonder why.
    I lower from the pose and jump my feet
forward, already feeling better from the stretch. Raising my arms
to the ceiling, and my left foot to my inner thigh in tree pose, I
say, “Why would you think I’d say such a thing to you?” I lower my
hands to rest palm to palm in front of my chest. “Who am I to judge
you?”
    His breath whooshes out in a loud puff of
air. “You surprise me when I least expect it.”
    I let him relax on his own for a moment,
enjoying the calm the pose is bringing me. After a minute or so I
return to my place on the futon, my back already