Page 1 of The Yoga Teacher

CHAPTER ONE

Hannah

HANNAH STIRRED FIRST, stretching beneath the sheets, her body warm and heavy with sleep.

The bedroom was quiet except for the soft rise and fall of Daniel’s breath beside her, his arm draped loosely over her waist. She smiled, shifting slightly, feeling the familiar weight of him—solid, steady, hers.

For a moment, she just watched him. The faintest trace of stubble shadowed his jaw, his dark lashes resting against his skin. Even now, years into their marriage, there was something about waking up beside him that made her feel… anchored. Safe.

She traced a gentle line down his arm, fingertips grazing his wrist. He stirred, exhaling a deep, sleepy sigh before tightening his hold around her.

“Mm. Stop watching me,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.

Hannah grinned. “Happy birthday, old man.”

Daniel cracked one eye open. “God. Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, come on. It’s agreatage.” She tilted her head, considering. “Thirty is… sexy.”

He cracked an eye open, smirking. “Yeah?”

"Mmhm." She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling. "I've been thirty for four months now, and I can confirm it's not so bad. Thirty is stable. Capable. Very attractive.”

Daniel huffed a soft laugh. “You just described a good retirement plan.”

Hannah let her fingers linger as they trailed through Daniel’s hair, her nails scratching lightly against his scalp. He made a low, satisfied noise in his throat, his arm tightening around her waist, pulling her closer.

“Keep doing that,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep.

She smirked, dragging her fingers down the back of his neck, then lower, tracing the firm planes of his back. “You like that?”

His lips curved lazily against her temple. “You know I do.”

She shifted, pressing herself against him, the warmth of their bodies merging under the sheets. Daniel exhaled, his breath skimming her cheek as his hand slid up the curve of her hip, his thumb pressing into the dip of her waist.

“You’re handsy this morning,” she teased, voice light but breathy.

Daniel hummed, his lips grazing her jaw, then lower, along the slope of her neck. “It’s my birthday. You should be spoiling me.”

Hannah laughed, tipping her head back, giving him better access as his mouth moved over her skin, slow and unhurried. He didn’t rush, didn’t take—he justtastedher, pressing soft, lingering kisses along her collarbone, down to the strap of her camisole.

A delicious heat curled low in her stomach, spreading with every lazy touch.

“Youarespoiled,” she whispered, threading her fingers into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

Daniel’s hand slid under the hem of her shirt, his palm warm against her bare skin. “Damn right I am,” he murmured against her throat.

He rolled them, pinning her beneath him, his weight pressing her into the mattress in the best way. Hannah let out a soft, pleased sound, arching into him as his mouth found hers. The kiss was slow, deep, a quiet indulgence between them.

She loved this—the way they fit together so seamlessly, the way his body felt against hers, the quiet intimacy of Sunday mornings wrapped in sheets and warmth and love.

When he pulled back, just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes were dark with something familiar, something hungry. “Let me have you,” he whispered, voice low, almost reverent.

Hannah felt a shiver run down her spine, a pulse of pure want.

“You already do,” she breathed, pulling him back down.

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