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suite?”
    “We’ll go there
after our workout,” he replied curtly.
    Even though he had
already turned away and dismissed me, a smile nearly broke out on my face. I
was going to Reese Jordon’s suite. Him and me and a meeting. I followed him to
the front desk in a dreamlike—okay, more like hormonal—state.
    “Welcome, Mr.
Jordon,” the pretty receptionist behind the desk said with a warm smile. She
ignored me standing behind him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a private
class?” she asked, her gaze roaming over him.
    “Perhaps another
day”—Reese glanced at her nametag—“Mariah. We’d like to experience the workout
with a class today.”
    Mariah’s smile
stayed in place but didn’t appear as warm. “Well, then let me escort you to the
room.” Mariah sashayed ahead of us, her Kimono-like wrap swishing with each
step.
    As I tried not to
stare at the man—specifically his butt—in front of me, she led us to a huge
room with a vaulted ceiling and a wall of windows that offered views of a soft
sand beach and breaking waves of the ocean. The view was beautiful and serene.
Hopefully, it would help keep my eyes from straying to Reese’s body.
    Mariah instructed us
to remove our shoes and pick any of the mats lying in two rows across the
floor. Then she told us that the instructor would be here momentarily.
    I slowly took off my
shoes and even more slowly followed Reese to the front line of mats. If I tried
to move fast in bare feet, I wobbled like a penguin. So not how I wanted him to see me. Soothing-sounding music filled the
room. I wasn’t soothed. He sat on a mat and began stretching. I did the same,
peeking at him and his moving muscles between reaching out and touching my
toes.
    A few people
trickled in until the front row of mats was full, and within minutes, a blond,
thin woman stepped in front of the window. The living Barbie doll introduced
herself. I didn’t catch the name. I was too busy watching Reese’s reaction to
her. To Fangirl’s glee, he didn’t have one. His handsome features remained
stoic. Tall and willowy with a rack even I envied, the blond instructor
appeared the opposite of me. I was mid-height and slender but compact and
muscular.
    Barbie began leading
us through some warm-up stretches.
    Reese’s flexing
biceps in my peripheral vision. Then his taut thigh. After that, a sliver of
his lovely abs as he stretched up.
    Concentrate, Naomi! Quit ogling the
man!
    Strangely—or maybe
it wasn’t strange—my inner conscience’s voice sounded a lot like Kara.
    I kept my eyes on
Barbie for the most part and copied her moves, which were starting to remind me
of a pretzel—or at least they were making my body feel like one. Surprisingly,
a thin sheen of sweat soon covered my body. Unfortunately, Reese’s muscles began
to shine too. Shiny, golden, luscious skin inches from me.
    As I reached and
stretched, Kara’s voice screamed at me, Stop
looking at him! Do NOT touch!
    This was harder than
I had anticipated. Besides the squawk of my stomach muscles contorted in a half
back bend, Reese’s body was next to me with his abs in a lickable position. I
was quite sure that his ‘secretary’ licking him during Pilates would be frowned
upon.
    You think? the inner Kara voice sarcastically
asked.  
    Forcing myself to
concentrate on Barbie and the current torture she was committing on my body, I
somehow kept my gaze from Reese’s body for most of the stretches.
    During what I
guessed was the cooldown, we all stood a few feet apart, reaching sideways, and
I faced the taut flex of Reese’s muscular ass. Wow. Almost three years without
sex suddenly caught up with me. Big time. A flush shot through my body, hitting
each erogenous zone, and I snapped my head forward from the zing.
    Which turned out to
be a bad, bad thing.
    Contorted awkwardly
and on uneven legs, I completely lost my balance and fell sideways, crashing
into Reese, who lost his balance and crashed into the person next to him.