Page 28 of Ozma

There wasn’t any hesitation as Jack kissed her back, urgent, spreading her lips with his tongue. He gripped her by the waist and lifted her with one easy swoop into his lap, her legs cradling his hips. Her center was right against his hard length, and a moan escaped her mouth as emotions rushed through her body, like a magical tornado taking down the entire world. It had never felt like this—this sensitive, thisgood, as he moved her hips forward, again and again. And his cock wasn’t even in her yet. Her tongue licked and danced with his as she ran her hands in his hair, grasping, tugging it. He released a low groan, and she responded by drawing him even closer. She couldn’t stop kissing him, that familiar taste, those movements, that body she needed to see bare again like earlier at the lake, that—

“Tip,” Jack murmured, sucking and nipping at her bottom lip.

Ozma froze, then leapt from his lap. What was she doing? She’d said she would let him be free and then she’d done this. And he’d called her Tip… Who shewas, but he didn’t know that.

Jack blinked, his mouth parting, seeming to be at a loss for words as he stared at her. “Ozma,” he finally said, as if that would make everything better.

“It’s fine.” Ozma took a swallow, tugging at her ear. “I’ve gotta go to sleep. See you in the morning, Jack.”

She didn’t want to hear his apologies as she whirled around and hurried across the patch to his hut. Jack didn’t chase after her—she was sure he was hating himself for calling her the wrong name and thinking he’d kissed Tip’s sister.

Why had she made up this ridiculous lie?

Chapter Twelve

Jack

Jack sat among the pumpkins, watching Ozma hurry away from him, with the taste of her still on his lips, the roof of his mouth, his tongue.What the hell just happened?

She’d kissed him.

She kissed me.

He hadn’t initiated anything, though he’d wanted to. He knew damn well his cock had wanted to. But he’d tried to behave. Then her lips touched his and that was it—he didn’t give a flying fuck anymore. He wanted to take and take and take until Ozma had nothing left to give.

And then she ran. Because he’d, stupidly, called her Tip.Fuck me.She tasted just like him though. Savory and just a little bit sweet. Her tongue stroked his, her hands waking every inch of skin she touched. For the briefest moment, it had made him forget that it was Tip’s sister he was kissing.

Jack lay back and dragged a hand over his face. Maybe it was for the best. Nothing could truly happen between them while he was still so in love with Tip, and yet... He closed his eyes and unapologetically replayed the kiss anyway. The first press of her warm lips, the way her tongue danced with his, how they seemed to melt together. It felt like they’d kissed a thousand times before.

She tugged her ear.

Jack’s eyes flew open at the unbidden thought. Ozma … tugged her ear. His pulse raced. Tip did that—exactly like that. Two quick pulls followed by a longer one. And she knew the way to the lake without hesitation. That was impossible if she’d spent her life inside a mirror, and then the dark place. The look of betrayal on her face when she’d seen him with the prostitute…

Mombi’s dark magic could do just about anything.

No…It wasn’t possible, was it? Could Ozma be Tip? Would she admit it if he confronted her? If it were true and she wanted him to know, she would’ve told him. Right? He ran his thumb over his bottom lip.No.Ozma was a liar. Which meant Tip was a liar. But Tipneverlied, at least not to him. The thought of Tip hiding a truth so large left him feeling cold inside. There was only one way forward—get Ozma to admit the truth. And, to do that, he would need to arm himself with proof.

Jack leapt up from the ground and sprinted to the wagon. With a quick glance toward his hut to make sure Ozma wouldn’t see him, he slipped inside, leaving the painted door open a crack to use the moonlight. The scent of dried herbs with a hint of sweat assaulted his senses.

“What did you take from Mombi’s hut, Blossom?” he asked aloud.

Flipping through each book, he found nothing surprising. Dark magic spells for this, dark magic potions for that. But then he glanced at Ozma’s satchel, still resting inside the wagon, practically calling to him. He shouldn’t.He should.With hurried motions, he unlatched the flap and collected a few of the notes resting inside. Spells… Then a handwritten note.

Steal the child growing in Lurline’s belly.

Use magic to alter the child’s identity.

Find silver slippers to draw magic from the child.

Create immortality

“What the fuck?” he whispered. Was this talking about Tip—Ozma… Which identity was true? And who was Lurline? The slippers and the immortality had to be regarding the Wizard, just as Ozma explained before. Altering the child’s identity would explain Ozma being Tip too.

“What are you doing?” Ozma asked. She stood in the open door with a bundle of blankets, staring with wide eyes at the note in Jack’s hand.

Jack turned the paper so she could see it. “Why do you have this?”

“In… In case it helps destroy the Wizard.”

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