Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,59

know. I barely register it anymore.”

“Well, it’s a first for me.”

“And now you know.”

Yes, Asher has an identical twin running around. That would’ve been nice to know before I tickled the tip of his twin’s dick.

I head out to the barn to give Asher a piece of my mind. He doesn’t deserve my anger, but I’m fuming and need an outlet.

My senses are assaulted by the smell of sweaty leather, fresh pine shavings, and the aromatic smells of horse, manure, and hay. My nose tickles at all the pungent aromas flooding my senses. There’s a munching sound as the horses chew away at their hay. One horse is eating something crunchy. I’m imagining apples or carrots, or pellets of grain.

I love the smell of horses and am privileged enough to have grown up around them. There’s a spot behind their ears that’s really soft and feels almost like fur. When I was little, I discovered each horse, like people, had its own unique scent. And it isn’t unpleasant. To me, it’s a natural perfume, not that I advocate bottling it up and selling it to humans, but I associate the smell with some of my happiest childhood memories.

Now, as for adult memories, the man of my dreams and deliverer of adult fantasies, turns around at my entrance. Sexy, and a little rough around the edges, Asher with his sharp jawline, messy hair, and piercing eyes, looks terribly fine in his faded denims and yellow flannel shirt. He’s dirty, with sweat dripping down his chest. Hay sticks to his muscles and mixes in his hair. He runs the back of his hand over his brow.

“Well, hello,” he says. “Aren’t you a fine-looking filly?”

“Are you really comparing me to a horse?”

“Not in the slightest, but damn don’t you make a man take notice.”

My anger from accidentally fiddling Brody’s dick is wearing off, but the trauma remains. I close the distance between us and fold into his arms. I don’t care that he’s dirty or sweaty. He smells divine, a mixture of horses, hay, and manly Asher smell. I’m in heaven.

“Whoa, what’s this?” He doesn’t wrap his arms around me like I expect. Instead, he holds his arms up and out as I bury my face in the crook of his neck and nuzzle in.

“You should have told me about your brother.”

“My brother? Um, which brother would that be?”

“Brody, and you won’t believe what happened.”

“What happened?”

Asher smells good. I bury my nose in his neck and resist the urge to lick his skin. He feels good in my arms, solid, muscular, and safe. My fingers grow restless pressed against the hard planes of his back. I hug him a little tighter and let my hands drift down where there are two dimples right above the rise of his jeans.

“It was horrible. He was cooking, and I thought he was you. I went up to him, and…”

He brings his hand down to the small of my back. It’s a hesitant touch, like maybe he doesn’t want me pressing too tight against him because of the sweat. Frankly, I don’t care about that. Asher smells wonderful, even if his hug is a bit half-hearted as he holds me.

“And what did you do?”

I can’t help myself. Asher’s too hard to resist. I reach down and squeeze his ass. “You know, you promised some rope action.” I give his ass another squeeze and grind against him.

He lifts up on the balls of his feet. “Whoa there! That’s awfully friendly forward, even for me.”

“Considering where your dick was last night, I’d say we’re far beyond the friend stage.” I reach my hand around to cup his groin and I’m surprised to find him long and soft instead of long and hard.

“Um…” His voice cracks. “I don’t think that’s the dick you want.”

“Cage, you’ve got half a second to get your hands off my girl.”

My entire body tenses.

That voice?

I know that voice, and holy fuck but my hand is full of yet another man’s dick.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

“What the hell!” My screech echoes through the barn and brings irritated whinnies from the horses and snickers from the man I practically vault away from.

I spin around only to see Asher in faded denims and a red and black plaid shirt that hangs open to display all the magnificence of his stunning physique.

He leads the most gorgeous black stallion I’ve ever seen into the barn. The horse huffs, shakes its head, and stamps at the ground. It yanks on its reins and