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Chapter Nine
Ash
Ash hated dancing.He was a terrible dancer, and he knew that he looked like an even worse dancer next to Hunter, who seemed to have an innate talent for moving his body to the music, like it was something he was born to do.
On the other hand, dancing just made Ash feel like an out-of-sync collection of body parts. Just when he got his feet moving right, he’d realize that he was just waving his arms around, totally out of time to the beat. By the time he got that sorted out, his feet were back to tapping completely out of rhythm and then he’d discover that, somewhere in the confusion, he’d added a weird head-nod as well.
All this flashed through his mind as Cora determinedly dragged him and Hunter toward the area where the boombox blared a country song, something twangy with a heavy beat. A few people were already dancing, beers in hand. For now, they were just swaying together, teasing, but Ash knew how shifters were. In an hour everyone out there would be sweaty, bodies rubbing together, and after that, there’d be the sounds of frenzied mating from the woods.
He watched Cora’s perfect bubble ass as she walked in front of him, his left hand still in her right, and thought of her dancing, her back to him, moving with the beat, her arms thrown around Hunter’s neck, the three of them moving in perfect time...
Ash went hard immediately.
Fuck, he thought. Think about... paperwork. All those forms you’ve got back at the station that need filling out.
He thought again about Cora, her body writhing to the music. Even if Ash was a terrible dancer, he’d love to see her and Hunter get down, their bodies moving as one.
Fuck!
Paperwork, he told himself sternly. Paperwork. Paperwork.
Then they were at the edge of the dancing area and Cora turned around. Her face was flushed slightly pink, but her body heat just made her scent stronger and even more tantalizing.
“What are you frowning about?” she said to Ash.
He rearranged his face.
“I wasn’t frowning,” he said.
Hunter slid behind Cora, taking her hips gently in his hands, and started dancing with her.
“That’s his thinking face,” Hunter said into Cora’s ear. “He’s thinking about how he doesn’t like to dance.”
Cora pouted and reached one hand toward Ash.
“Come on,” she said. “Dance with us. Don’t be a spoilsport.”
Hunter’s fingers moved around her hips, digging into her flesh just a little, through her skirt, as Ash’s mate pressed himself against Cora.
She leaned her head back against Hunter’s shoulder, exposing the long white expanse of her throat, leading down into her cleavage.
She did have a birthmark on her neck.
Her hips moved back and forth in a mesmerizing rhythm, and watching the two of them woke something deep and primal inside Ash.
They were his. Both of them.
And by God, he was going to dance with them.
There she was, leaning lazily against Hunter, wiggling her hips, one finger pointing at Ash and then making that suggestive come hither motion.
Ash felt like he was a fish getting reeled in, completely helpless against his desire. His feet moved of their own volition, five steps across the makeshift dance floor, and then he had his hands on Cora’s little waist, doing his best to match their rhythm.
She smiled up at him lazily, looking at Ash through her eyelashes.
“Thanks for joining us,” she teased, placing her hands softly on his forearms.
Ash’s whole body felt charged and ready, like he could go off at any moment.
