Ash’s senses had become undeniable, unignorable, in this ensorcelling presence that she found herself marvelously plagued by, a bewitching deluge that delicately enveloped her body. It dangled her natural instincts on a razer blade, challenging and threatening and euphoric, fighting primordial creation. She didn’t have to turn to feel it, to know. The cream colored cloth went still beneath her hand, resting on the polished cedar, radiating a scent with the softest notes of savory herbs. The music played, its stomping beat throbbing to the sound of her heart beat, but it seemed to seep into the background, disregarded despite its volume. The hairs on the back of her neck raised when the door was opened, the little bell’s chime heralding the disturbance of her territory, the arrival of a man. His tempest scent came with him, spilling into the shop with a mere step, and her mind sharpened, sensitivity focused, honed on him. The derivative concentration of an excellent hunter. Then the aura surged against her, a fuller culmination of the glimpse she’d felt earlier. It raised her hackles as much as it exhilarated her, a tempestuous and rapturous stiffening of her shoulders, curling of her fingers. It carried with it magic on its heels, scattering her with a furious prickling of the skin before it settled as a steel buzzing in her chest. For the most part, the residual jarring effects were thrown off with a nearly imperceptible shudder.<br/><br/>It was then that she’d turned, words of native humor dancing across Ash’s tongue as she did so. Something about knocking. Devon looked even more brilliant than the first time she’d laid eyes on him, accentuated and framed by the profuse trickles and crumbs of light that shimmered from his body. Something about poking fun at wizardry joined the queue. That was until the words died in her throat, for the discordantly thunderous profile of his magic and his being was painted with something else. There was another scent, and it was rich and permeating. Headier than a mulled wine, than creamy plumes of silvery incense. It layered itself beneath her skin, a feeling that prickled and stroked, laughing in dulcet tones against the flesh. It was infinitely of the earth, of harmonious melding of the sky, of mountain fog and rainstorms. It was potent desire, it was remarkable chemistry, his fervor offered up like a spoken admission to a rather sharp sense of smell.<br/><br/>Confidence and purpose seemed to coil in his gaze, to follow his steps as he made his way across the shop, even as he pervaded a she-wolf’s domain. Ash was still, as captivated as she was predatory. Her lids had lowered, lips parting with anticipation, eyes dark and devouring with intention. She was still even as he lifted his hands and they smoothed themselves across the soft planes of her face, the touch leaving electric crackles against her skin. The wood of the counter pressed gently into her lower back, grounding her there. Her hands had raised then, entangling her fingers on the edges of his jacket, hungrily pulling him closer. As they kissed, her want was belied by her slow, tormenting administrations, but they were no less full of molten passion, of incarcerated seduction.<br/><br/>A small, heated breath when he’d released, his forehead pressed to her own, her name on his lips. “Devon,” she acknowledged quietly back, voice a touch rasped. Her head was swimming with the feel of him, with the scent of his aura, his body, the vestiges of affection still lingering on her tongue. She wondered, briefly, if she’d get used to it. She couldn’t find herself being around a man so much that made her feel as drunk as her wine. It was a fleeting thought, squeezed by another that wondered why she thought she would see him long enough to need to get used to it.<br/><br/>That second thought was, if even for a moment, slightly sobering, and Ash worked to weave her way back into the spell, silencing her mind. With deft prowess, she hooked her leg around one of Devon’s own and spun them, a testament to her reflexive expertise, pushing his back gently into the counter, partially trapping him against it with her body. One of her legs had settled itself between his own in the exchange, not quite touching, but she could feel the closeness between them through her jeans. Her hands had still been on his jacket, and her fingers unfurled when she’d put him where she wanted him. All was performed without aggression, the form of her otherwise docile if he’d the wish to escape. She had a feeling that he didn’t.<br/><br/>“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ash started, voice threaded with humor, with something else more primal. “You sure know how to make an entrance. And how to<i>knock</i>,” she playfully admonished, the tone and expression of purposefully exposed want indicative that she didn’t seem to truly mind it. She leaned back and slightly parted the opening of his jacket, acute gaze softly caressing down the length of his body and drifting back upwards. “It looks like you’re all in one piece,” she commented, devilish smile curling her lips. “Should I check?” A hand slid up to the side of his neck, pulling him back for another kiss, remnants of that buzzing on her skin. “Or should we get to business first, trouble second?” She asked, pulling away from him, silently breathing out the fantastic dizziness. The broom and cloth were in tow, dragged to the backroom. Was it hot? She felt hot.<br/><br/>A box similar to the one she’d had earlier preceded her back to the front and she placed it on the counter, folding her hands on top and putting her chin there. Ash’s dark gaze was brimming with anima, with desire and motive, framed with carnivorous composure. “What’ll it be?”