Page 12 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

CHAPTER 5

Scarecrow didn’t sayanything as we rode his death machine back to my place. I, of course, was holding on for dear life, as I said prayers to every deity I could think of. Equal opportunity had nothing on me at that moment.

I may have inadvertently drawn blood on his stomach while digging in my nails. All I knew was that as soon as we stopped, he whipped around and yanked me off the bike.

Taking a deep breath, I could see the lust and hunger in his eyes. He may not do relationships, but his eyes were doing me 24/7. And it was becoming mighty uncomfortable to walk around with wet panties.

I turned away from him and walked up to the little bakery below my apartment. The wafts of vanilla, sugar, and cinnamon greeted me as I opened the doorway into the stairwell. My apartment was the only one above Mrs. Brooks Bakery.

I had it renovated when I came to Munchkin Land. Everything had been miniaturized and bathing with your legs hanging out of the tub left much to be desired.

I turned to see if Scarecrow was following me and ran straight into his hard chest.

“Ouch!” I rubbed my nose before whipping back around to climb the stairs.

We were halfway up with I heard his breathing increase.

“Stop staring at my ass, Scarecrow!” I snapped.

“Just enjoying the view, Princess,” he muttered.

Images flooded my head of things that he had done in the past forty-eight hours and things that I still wanted him to do.

I put an extra swing in my hips as we reached the landing and was rewarded when his hands grasped my ass cheeks hard.

“You are asking for trouble, Princess,” his dark tone causing my nipples to tighten.

I still wasn’t wearing a bra and Scarecrow didn’t miss a second of it.

I didn’t pretend that I didn’t know what he was talking about. There was just something about him that made me act outrageously.

I opened my door and invited him in. I had an open floor plan with exposed brick walls and a massive set of bookshelves that held some of my prized books on them.

The furniture I had selected was dark and comfortable. I had a large flat screen television mounted on one wall and a cozy fireplace on the other. My kitchen was off to one side, and I didn’t particularly care that my place wasn’t as fancy as his was.

I loved my home. It was a good representation of who I was.

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