Page 19 of Shifting the Flame
"Asher," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and anticipation.
"Mine," he growled possessively. He positioned himself between her thighs, the tip of his cock brushing against her slick entrance. She gasped, her nails digging deep into his skin as she arched toward him, her body begging for him to fill her.
But just as he was about to sink into her, the sharp chime of the doorbell shattered the moment.
Asher froze, his body tensing with frustration. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and for a split second, he considered ignoring it. But the rational part of his brain—the part that wasn't consumed by the need to claim his mate—knew better.
Danica's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing as she quickly pushed against his chest. "The door," she whispered, her voice breathless.
"Damn it," Asher muttered, reluctantly pulling away. He yanked his shorts back up, his cock still throbbing with unfulfilled need. Danica slid off the island, her hands fumbling to adjust the straps of her sundress and smooth the fabric down over her hips. Her hair was tousled, her lips swollen from his kisses, and she looked so deliciously disheveled that it took every ounce of his willpower not to drag her back into his arms.
"It's probably the festival volunteers," he said, his voice rough with frustration. "They must've gotten the email we sent last night and want to go over some things."
Danica nodded, her hands still smoothing her dress as if that would erase the evidence of what they'd just been about to do. "I'll let them in," she offered, her voice steadier now, though her cheeks were still flushed.
Asher shook his head. "I'm not exactly dressed for company." He gestured to his bare chest and shorts. "I'll run upstairs and throw something on. Be right back."
He started toward the doorway but paused, turning back to her. In two quick strides, he was in front of her again. His hands cupped her face as he kissed her hard and fast, pouring all his frustration and desire into that one searing kiss.
Danica's breath hitched as he pulled away. He gave her one last lingering look before turning and striding toward his bedroom, his bare feet silent on the hardwood. His mind raced as he took the steps two at a time, his body still thrumming with the need to finish what they'd started.
Mine, his dragon growled again, the word echoing in his mind.She's mine.
Asher shoved the thought aside. He needed to get dressed, deal with whoever was at the door, and then figure out howto get Danica alone again. Preferably somewhere with fewer interruptions.
He reached his bedroom and yanked open the closet door, grabbing the first shirt he saw—a simple black button-down—and pulling it on. He didn’t bother with the buttons, leaving it open to reveal the muscles of his chest. He then put on his black dress pants that he'd left discarded on his bedroom floor last night.
As he turned to head back downstairs, he couldn’t help but smile. Danica was in his home, and soon, she’d be in his bed. The thought sent a surge of possessive satisfaction through him.
SEVEN
DANICA
Danica floated toward the front door of Asher's mansion in a pleasant haze. Her body still tingled from Asher's mouth and hands. Her cheeks felt permanently flushed, and she couldn't wipe the smile from her face as she padded barefoot across the polished hardwood floor.
The memory of Asher kneeling before her with his head between her thighs, his tongue working magic against her most sensitive flesh—it made her body heat all over again. Never in her life had she surrendered to such spontaneous pleasure, especially not with someone she'd known for barely a day.
What is happening to me?she wondered, running her fingers through her thoroughly mussed hair.This isn't like me at all.
Yet it felt right—natural, even. Something about Asher—his commanding presence balanced with his genuine care—made her feel simultaneously safe and wild, as if she'd discovered a part of herself that had always been there, patiently waiting.
Danica smoothed down her light blue sundress for the tenth time, the cotton fabric still slightly wrinkled from being bunched around her waist just moments ago. The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.
"Coming!" she called.
When she pulled open the front door, Danica expected to see a group of eager festival volunteers. Instead, she found herself face-to-face with a woman who looked as if she'd stepped from the pages of a fashion magazine.
The stranger stood tall—at least 5'9"—with a waterfall of vibrant red hair cascading over one shoulder. Her skin had the perfect sun-kissed glow, and her athletic frame was draped in a green wrap dress that accentuated every toned curve. But what struck Danica most were her eyes—a peculiar green-gold that seemed to flash with something primal when they landed on her.
"Oh! Hello," Danica said, her event planner persona clicking into place automatically. "You must be one of the festival volunteers. Asher just went upstairs to change, but he'll be right down."
The redhead's perfectly shaped eyebrows arched high, and her full lips pressed into a thin line. "I'm not a volunteer," she replied, her voice smooth as silk but with an undercurrent of steel. "I'm Joni. Joni Maples."
Something territorial flashed across the woman's face as her nostrils flared slightly, almost like she was...sniffing? Danica suddenly felt exposed, as if this stranger could somehow detect what had just transpired in the kitchen. Heat slowly crept up her neck at the thought.
Joni's gaze tracked slowly from Danica's tousled hair down to her bare feet, taking in every detail with surgical precision. Her smile never reached her eyes when she asked, "And you are...?"
"I'm Danica. I'm—" she hesitated, uncertain how much to reveal.
