Page 70 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

He threw his leg over and started the engine, “Fine by me.”

I knew he wouldn’t leave me.

At least, I had strong hopes that he wouldn’t leave me.

But when he pressed the gas to rev the engine I got a little worried.

“Last chance, Indy,” he growled.

I shook my head infinitesimally, “Tell me.”

In the next moment, his hard body was smashing mine up against the wall. I don’t know how he managed to get off of his bike that quickly. Nor how he could get my motor running just as easily as he did his bike.

“You want to talk?” his harsh breath was against my ear.

“Yes,” I couldn’t even nod, he was that close.

“I fucking hate the idea of anyone seeing you naked. You are mine, Indy! I don’t care that it was before we were together.”

My heart melted into a puddle of goo.

“Scarecrow, nothing happened that night,” I paused, remembering some frolicking in the woods. “Nothing important, anyway,” I amended.

He pressed into me harder, “I want to be the only one that sees these luscious tits and this amazing ass. I want every memory without me to be obliterated from your mind.”

“That’s how I felt when I heard about you and El,” I said softly.

He rested his forehead against mine, “There was never me and El. There was only El trying to get back at Steele.”

“I know that now.”

He let out a sigh of relief.

“This feeling,” he grimaced, “It’s shitty. I am sorry that I ever made you feel that way.”

I cupped my hand around his face, “Me too.”

His lips captured mine in a kiss so tender, so sweet, that it made me want to weep. His brutal hold had become protective as if he were terrified that one wrong move and I would break.

His warm lips caressed mine as his hands ran down my sides, cupping my hips. I groaned as he deepened the kiss, feeling every sweep of his tongue as he explored the cavern of my mouth. It was sensuous, the way he kissed me until mind and reason were a thing of the past.

I whimpered low in my throat wanting more. His hands came up to sink into my hair. He tilted my head so that he could have better access to my mouth.

This man could kiss! I was drowning, swirling in a vortex of heat and want when he lifted his face away from mine.

I growled in protest and saw an echoing burst of lust in his eyes.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Wicked Witch of the East and her faithful sidekick, Scarecrow.”

That voice not only had a dampening effect on me, but it also sent ice racing through my veins.

I whipped around, “Dorothy!”

There, standing not ten yards away from us, stood a teenage girl in a light blue gingham dress. Her silky brown hair was tied up in adolescent pigtails, and her skirt was covered with a bright white apron. In her arms, she carried a wicker basket with a black Cairn Terrier peeking from beneath the brim.

But what really had me going was the fact that on her feet, she was still wearing my blood red, sparkling Jimmy Choo pumps. Everyone knew that they were a staple in any woman’s wardrobe.

“You have some balls coming to Oz and wreaking your havoc,” I sneered at her. “But those days are over!”

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