Sacred Serenity (Lotus House Book 2)

E
verything
in the Lotus House series has been gleaned from years of personal practice and the study of yoga. The yoga positions and chakra teachings were part of my official schooling with The Art of Yoga through Village Yoga Center in Northern California. Every chakra fact and position description has been personally written by me and comes from my perspective as a Registered Yoga Teacher following the guidelines set forth by the National Yoga Alliance and the Art of Yoga. The Tantric references are my personal understanding of the teachings through hours of research.

If you want to attempt any of the positions within this book or as detailed in any of the Lotus House novels, please consult a Registered Yoga Teacher.

I suggest everyone take a yoga class. Through my yoga schooling and teaching the gift of yoga to my students, I have learned that yoga is for everybody and every body. Be kind to yours, for you only get one in this lifetime.

L
ove and light
,

A
udrey

“
T
antric sex
? You of all people chose Tantric sex as your final project for your human sexuality course?” Genevieve’s platinum shoulder-length hair shimmered and bounced when she maneuvered around the yoga studio. Her rounded belly seemed to lead her through the room as she lit candles.

I helped her set up bolsters and yoga blocks that would assist her prenatal yoga clientele with the myriad positions she’d lead them through during her class.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” I said, not able to avoid a hint of sarcasm in my tone.

My best friend in all the world stopped, rested her hands on her seven-months-pregnant belly, and rubbed in a circular motion. The baby was either kicking or pushing one of his mother’s body parts into an uncomfortable position.

Genevieve sighed and pressed on one side of her belly. “I don’t know. It seems odd that someone who…” She lowered her voice and glanced around the room. Class hadn’t started yet, nor was it supposed to for another twenty minutes. Not a soul in sight.

“Who hasn’t had sex?” I said succinctly. My being a virgin was not a secret. It was a choice, a commitment I’d made not just because of my faith in God—although I held Him in the highest regard—but because of my faith in myself and in my will.

She nodded. “Yes.” The word came out as a hiss. “It makes sense for you to study the behavior of sex in society or how it pertains to your medical discipline, but the Tantric practice as a whole can be overtly sensual in nature. Physically, spiritually…” She let out a breath. “I mean, how do you plan to truly know what the practice of Tantric sex is without ever experiencing it?”

I set my hands on my hips and glared. “Just because I haven’t had sex doesn’t mean I haven’t studied every facet of the human body. Heck, Vivvie, I’m certain I know more about how to trigger a vaginal orgasm than ninety percent of the population actively experiencing coitus.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. “Well, what do you want from me? You usually don’t go into detail about your coursework. So why now?”

I grinned. “I need your help.”

She leaned her head to the side and locked her dark gaze to mine while she unrolled a yoga mat into position. “How so?”

“Get the Tantric yoga teacher to allow me to sit in on his class and observe.”

She blinked as though waiting for me to say something more. “That’s it? I mean, he’s pretty easy to talk to. Why not ask Dash yourself?”

Dash.

The name so perfectly fit the man it belonged to. He was a dash of everything any woman in her right mind would drool over—tall with an incredible form, dark blond hair, and the most stunning caramel-colored eyes I’d ever seen. Those eyes could have been cast from the very amber stone I was named for. I’d only ever seen him from a distance, which was self-imposed because he had this essence, a unique masculine aura that scrambled my mind and made me feel like a teenage girl again. Not a twenty-two-year-old woman who’d just been accepted into the elite UC Berkeley-UCSF Joint Medical Program on a full scholarship.

I’d had my pick of medical schools—Stanford, Irvine—but I couldn’t leave my aging grandparents. They’d taken care of me since my mother died giving birth to me. I owed it to them to be present in their lives through the remainder of their days. And Genevieve was the closest thing to a sibling I’d ever have. My relationship with her was one I cherished and held above all others. She knew
me
and accepted my life choices in a way very few did. I didn’t want to leave San Francisco, my grandparents, or Genevieve—especially since her son was due in a couple months.

I cracked my neck to relieve the tension that built at the mere thought of Dash Alexander. “I sent a couple emails and put a note in his staff box here. He returned an email, stating that his classes were private, and he wouldn’t want to spook his clientele with an outsider watching them.”

Vivvie grinned wide. “I can see that. The course is…pretty
involved
.” She settled on those two words as if they were molasses coating a thick slice of Focaccia bread. Sumptuous and divine when paired together.

“That’s why I’m here. I need you to talk to him. You have a rapport with him. Besides, haven’t you assisted in his class before?”

Genevieve widened her eyes. “I have and don’t you
dare
mention it to Trent.” She rubbed her belly where said man’s child gestated. “He’ll lose his mind all over again if he’s reminded about my stint with Dash.”

My face heated and I clenched my teeth. “Did you have a fling with Dash?” An uncomfortable prickling sensation licked up my spine. Vivvie would notice any subtle change in my demeanor and jump on it like a child on a trampoline. I clenched my molars harder, trying to appear unaffected.

“No. Not really. Definitely not in the way you’re thinking.” She pushed her hair off her neck and fanned herself. “I mean, when you assist his class there is some heavy petting, but it’s not like we had sex. I will say I had to take a cold shower after the class to ward off any latent emotions. That man has a gift. The way he opens chakras as if he’s peeling back layers of an onion is intense. He gets right to the spicy part inside of you, and with a quickness I didn’t expect.” Vivvie fanned herself while a blush stole across her cheeks.

What I wouldn’t have given to be the bearer of that blush. Or rather, to experience the man himself causing it.

I brushed my thick hair off my now sweaty neck and leveled my gaze at her. “Please, Vivvie. I need this. It’s my last class before I start my medical school coursework in the fall. I’ve left it to the last possible semester because… Well, you know why. It’s the one class I knew I’d have to delve into without experience. I want a perfect grade.” Of course I was fibbing a little about my rationale, but she didn’t need to know that.

Genevieve stood in front of me. Her belly bumped against mine and we both giggled. “I’ll never get used to my size.” She groaned.

I placed my hands over her bump to feel my soon-to-be nephew, trying to differentiate his little feet from his head and booty.

“Look, you’re my best friend. My sister-from-another-mister. Of course, I’ll get him to help you. You have to promise to be open-minded. In this course, the couples involved are there because they want a deeper connection to their mate and their higher selves. I know your own personal beliefs may differ, but try not to let that color your experience.”

I ran my hands down to hers and clenched them. “I promise. I’ll be open-minded and respectful.”

She smirked, one eyebrow lifted in question before she huffed. “All right, I’ll talk to him. Use my powers of persuasion to get him to cave.”

“Powers of persuasion?” The mere suggestion that those powers involved something innately sexual or personal in nature sent my blood boiling.

“Yeah…guilt.” She chuckled.

I snorted, and that boiling shifted to a simmer.
Jesus in heaven, I need to cool my jets.

“Speaking of guilt…when are you going to put Trent out of his misery and marry the man?” I asked rather pointedly.

Genevieve groaned loudly and lifted her face to the sky. The ceiling was painted in vibrant rainbow swirls. When lying down on the mat in a supine position, I found the colors awe-inspiring, a serene place to let my mind wander while my body relaxed.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. You know he asks me to marry him every single day?” She shook her head.

“And, again, why are you denying him and yourself the joy of matrimony? In a couple months, Viv, you’re bringing his son into the world. You know how I feel about babies being born out of wedlock, seeing as I was one of them. You, on the other hand, do have a choice. You love Trent. He loves you. You’re having his child. Why not prevent your child from going through the stigma of being a bast—”

“Don’t you dare say it!” Vivvie cut me off with a pointy finger to the sternum.

Ouch!

“My child will
not
be a bastard. Don’t put your holier-than-thou, Bible-thumping opinion on me right now. I know that my son will be raised with God’s love whether he’s born in or out of wedlock. We’ve already had this discussion, and I’ll not have it again. I want Trent to marry me for
me
and to spend his life by my side because I’m the woman he wants to be with forever, not because I’m carrying his progeny.”

This time I grumbled. “Can’t you see that he worships the ground you walk on?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “I know he does. But is it because I’m having his baby?”

I choked on my frustration. “No! Goodness gracious. You are one of the most intelligent, loving, and kind women I know, yet you can be so dim-witted when you don’t want to see what’s right in front of you! Marry the man already! Please! If not for yourself, do it for him, for the baby you’re carrying.” My voice rose with my conviction.

Genevieve pointed her red-painted index fingernail at me. “Stop. I already know what you think. And I will marry him. When the time is right.” Her lips were pursed and her jaw hardened.

Sorry, God. I tried.

“Sorry,” I said and meant it with my entire being. I prayed for her every night to find clarity, to heal from her parents’ passing, to be strong for her siblings and those around her. And I prayed every night that she’d marry Trent Fox and save the baby from years of stereotypical garbage. Kids and adults alike could be all too cruel. I knew firsthand.

Genevieve scowled and then laughed. “Thank you. What you should focus on is yourself. Can’t wait to hear what the big man upstairs is going think when you want to get freaky with Dash Alexander after one of his classes!” She threw out the statement, and her eyes seemed to twinkle in the track lighting above.

I opened and closed my mouth. “You know?” I gasped.

She snorted. “You have God…I have women’s intuition. And my intuition has told me for the last couple years you’ve been hard-core crushing on Dash from afar. Probably the reason why you’ve avoided asking for access to his class in person.”

Attempting to backtrack wasn’t going to work in this scenario. Besides, the Bible taught us to be honest and forthcoming in all things. “Dash is a beautiful man. I won’t deny it.” I lifted my chin and waited for her reply.

Genevieve grinned and glanced at something or someone behind me. “Hey, Dash, you’ve got impeccable timing. We were just talking about you.” She smirked.

My entire body went stone cold. If someone so much as touched me, I’d shatter into a thousand pieces and float away. Inhaling a full breath, I turned around. There he was, the single man who had inhabited every naughty thought I’d had since the first time I saw him over two years ago. The one man I envisioned when I pleasured myself in the wee hours of the morning under my homemade quilt in my grandparents’ home.

Dash Alexander.

I grinned at the sinfully sexy brunette, arms crossed over my chest. She thought I was beautiful. Interesting.

I’d seen Genevieve’s best friend roaming around Lotus House. Watched her in action, taking the classes here. Her body was long and lean, perfect for the more complex
asanas,
or yoga poses as the Westerners called them.

While I stood there, her green eyes shined like emeralds as she assessed me. The catlike shape added to her allure. Only that wasn’t what made my knees quake. The thick, long, dark chestnut-brown hair that she wore plainly, straight, and parted down the middle, the length covering her ample breasts, had all my attention. My guess was she didn’t dye it either. The color hadn’t changed in the two years since I’d first seen her. The natural hue glinted in the sunlight that streamed through an open window Genevieve had yet to close before class. What I wouldn’t give to grasp a thick chunk in my fist, wrap it around my wrist, and tug her head back gently to feast on the long exposed column of her neck.

Her simple earthiness appealed to the deepest part of a man. The instinct to hold and protect this woman was a powerful aphrodisiac. Those feelings plowing to the surface were rare for me, but I’d learned long ago, through my Tantric practice, not to deny or hide how I reacted to those around me. In this case, a desire born of aesthetics wasn’t the only thing sending a flushed excitement through my veins. Her energy called to me. The magnetic field around her sizzled and threaded with mine in the most sensual of caresses, making me want to wrap my arms around her and keep her close, bathe in her true spirit.

My cock thickened and stirred, awakening after being too long at rest. I let my hands drop into clasped ease in front of my groin. No need to scare off the little bird. As it was, I could see her form fluttering, cowering under the weight of my appreciative gaze, making ready to fly away. I wanted her to do the opposite. Respond to me instead, the way a proud swan would. I wanted to set my gaze upon not only her bare body but also her unhindered soul.