Page 33 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

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Mortified.

That’s what Gwen was.

Every step might as well be her own personal torture, not letting her heated, still pulsing flesh calm down from before. Still wanting him was…a big problem.

One she was hoping would just go away on its own.

Asher took the lead through the dense foliage that covered the island, and she was more than happy to follow just so she could deal with her thoughts and her body while not feeling his gaze burning on the back of her neck. Except now the view might just be worse—strong legs, firm ass, broad back covered by a t-shirt that didn’t do anything to disguise the ridges of muscles. Memories of his hands on her made fresher by the fact that his hands really had just been on her this morning.

The walk wasn’t helping calm anything down for her either.

How in heaven’s name had she gotten so far down the road of being so thoroughly fucked without waking up sooner?

Because you didn’t want to wake up, that voice of truth piped up in her head. You wanted Asher that badly.

What was wrong with her?

Her brother was dead because of this man. That should have wiped all traces of history away like a tsunami. Nothing of what they’d been before left in its wake.

Including wanting him.

But the uncomfortably slick, still swollen part of her that twinged with every rotten step, said otherwise.

Screamed it really.

The connection was broken, but she could still feel it haunting her, like the phantom pain of a limb that had been cut off. The nearby storm only made it worse. It was as if the island sensed its nearness and had gone as still as possible. No breeze and the humidity was almost unbearable after all the rain last night.

First thing she was doing when they found water was washing away every trace of her traitorous body’s response to Asher.

Maybe then she could stop flushing…and stop thinking about him.

“I think I see something,” Asher said, ahead of her.

Gwen carefully composed her features to mild—if still red cheeked—curiosity as he swung around to check where she was.

“This way.” He pointed.

It took another five minutes of walking, but his keen dragon eyes hadn’t been wrong. They burst out of the denser brush into what amounted to a small clearing around a decent-sized, stream-fed pond. Pristine clear waters that let her see the details of the bottom beckoned, sparkling in the sunlight.

Sweaty from their trek and the feelings that refused to fade, Gwen was damn tempted to dive right in, but before she could, Asher stripped off his shoes and socks, his hands going to the fly of his jeans.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He didn’t face her, but she could hear the rare teasing smile in his voice. “Bathing.”

He was going to bathe. Right now? In front of her?

Sure. No big deal. She was a fully grown adult. Most supernatural creatures didn’t have hang-ups about nudity the way humans did. She could handle this. He’d go first, then she’d take a turn. They could draw their drinking water upstream when they were done.

Asher dropped his pants, leaving him in nothing but black boxer-briefs, which showed off the muscles of his thighs as he waded into the water. Then he turned to face her, a playful glint in his eyes she hadn’t seen in a long time. Sure enough, next came the shirt.

Damn.

There went the small amount of control she’d wrangled for herself over the course of their trek. Gone in an instant.

With an eye roll, she walked to a flat rock at the edge of the water. A second later, a splash told her he was fully submerged now. By the time she’d taken off her socks and shoes, and rolled up her pants to dangle her legs, she figured it was safe for her to look.

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