In the dimly lit studio, the sound of Jenna's shoes clicking against the floor is the only thing that pierces the quiet air.

As she steps into the room, her eyes fall upon Mason, his toned body flexing with each stretch.

Her breath catches, admiring the sight of him, her pulse quickening.

Mason senses her presence, a smile spreading across his face as he turns towards her.

His eyes twinkle with amusement as he asks, Are you going to just stare at me all day,

or are you actually going to join me?

Jenna arches a playful brow, a smirk gracing her lips.

I wouldn't dream of wasting a perfectly good opportunity to watch such a fine display of

physical prowess.

She saunteres closer, her voice dripping with sensuality.

Though, if you insist, I suppose I could give you a workout of a different variety. Oh, please, Mason shakes his head, rolling his eyes playfully

as he rises to his full height.

Get your head out of the gutter, unless. He trails off with a knowing smirk, his eyes lingering

on her curves. Jenna lets out a light chuckle, nudging him aside with a sassy remark.

We're here to dance, not to get frisky, unless he'd prefer we do it on the dance floor.

With a saucy sway of her hips, she struts over to a corner of the room, purposefully emphasizing the way

her body moves. I wouldn't exactly be opposed to that idea, Mason calls out, wagging his eyebrows

playfully as he watches her walk away.

Jenna turns her head over her shoulder,

a mock disgusted expression on her face.

Not tonight, Andrews, we've got a routine to perfect.

Despite her teasing tone, her eyes shine with mischief. The banter fades as they assume their dance positions, the quiet of the studio returning, except for the soft music coming from

...