Page 13 of The Yoga Teacher

Daniel’s head turned toward her, his face still hazy with pleasure—until it wasn’t. Until his gaze met hers, and everything drained from his expression at once. His mouth fell open slightly, his chest heaving, his entire body locked in place.

His body went rigid, his grip on Sienna’s hair tightening before he suddenly let go. Sienna let out a surprised gasp as she tumbled forward onto the bench.

Daniel pulled away, pulledout.

His cock was still hard—still wet—and she watched, numb and horrified.

Her husband.

The man she loved.

The man who had just been inside someone else.

She wasn’t supposed to see this.

But it was too late.

Hannah had already seen everything.

A choking sound clawed its way up her throat, but nothing came out. The ringing in her ears drowned out everything, everything except Daniel’s ragged, disbelieving breath.

"Hannah—"

Her name was hoarse, broken on his lips.

Sienna shifted on the bench. Unlike Daniel, she wasn’t frozen in horror. If anything, she looked vaguely annoyed—like Hannah had interrupted something. Like Hannah was the intruder here.

There was no panic in her expression. No shame.

Just... inconvenience.

"Oh. Hi, Hannah.”

Hannah’s stomach lurched.

Daniel lumbered to his feet, he took a step toward her—but then he seemed to realize he was still naked, still exposed. His erection had already begun to wither in shame. He held one hand in front of himself, trying to cover up, but it was far too late.

His eyes were wide, desperate.

"Hannah, I—"

She took a step back, her body finally responding, finally allowing her to retreat. But the movement was too slow, as if she were wading through water.

Sienna stretched, entirely unbothered, completely at ease in her own nakedness. As if this was just another moment in her day. As if this wasn’t the end of Hannah’s world.

"This isalotof energy," Sienna mused lightly, glancing between them. "Maybe we should all take a centering breath?"

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Hannah didn’t remember how she got to the parking lot.

One moment, she was inside the yoga studio, drowning in the scent of sweat and betrayal. The next, she was outside, stumbling into the cold night air, the pavement unsteady beneath her feet.

She gasped, dragging air into her lungs. Nothing felt real. Her body wasn’t working right—her hands were shaking, she felt like she might vomit.

Daniel.

Herhusband.

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