Page 31 of Ozma

Ozma

Jack had been acting differently toward Ozma the entire day… And it had to be because of the night before, in the patch, beneath the stars. That damn kiss. That beautiful kiss. The kiss she couldn’t stop thinking about, even when she’d disappeared into Jack’s hut to try and get some sleep. Instead, she’d explored her body—her breasts, the slick folds between her legs, feeling things that were good—but could be even better, when done by another’s hands. Then she’d gone outside to check on him and had found him in the wagon, holding that note of Mombi’s that she should have burned instead of kept. Luckily, she’d been quick to have an answer about it.

Ozma straightened in the seat of the wagon, shaking off the night before, and focusing on the trees blooming with bright fruits and nuts. The map in her veins lit up, and she knew if they took the shortcut through the forest, they could make it to the sea sooner. Pulling the reins, she steered the stag off the sandy road.

“Where are you going?” Jack asked, grabbing onto her wrist.

“It’s faster this way. Trust me.” She smiled as he gave her an unsure look. Then Ozma cursed herself because that was the reason Jack was acting funny, not because she’d kissed him. But because he still didn’t fully trust her, and he probably thought she’d been trying to seduce him for some nefarious reason. No, that wouldn’t be right, because she hadn’t asked a thing while she’d been planted against him, feeling every inch and curve of his delicious mouth. Hurriedly, Ozma tucked that down and focused on the clear sky.

As she glanced at him, she inwardly sighed, knowing she should just give him something else. “I know where to go, Jack, because, while I don’t have magic, there is something within me that knows where lands and seas are. Like an internal map. Perhaps that is magic, or perhaps it’s just a part of me. So that’s how I know.”

“Oh. We shouldn’t get lost then.” Jack bit his lip, appearing conflicted, as though he wanted to say something different but held back.

Ozma arched an eyebrow at him. “We certainly won’t.”

They traveled deeper and deeper into the forest until trees with their tops in the shape of mushrooms covered its entirety. Branches intertwined and curved like snakes, the sun’s light dimming and squeezing through the narrow slits from above.

“Listen … Ozma,” Jack said, placing his hands behind his neck.

“No moreBlossom?” she asked, trying to make things light as she tightened her grip on the reins. But something about his tone made her nervous.

He chuckled and snagged a few leaves from a branch, tearing them to small pieces as he spoke, “Oh, you’re most definitely sweeter than any flower.” Then his expression grew serious, his lips forming a thin line. “I want to apologize for last night. I didn’t mean to call you Tip.”

So he wanted to discuss that… “It was all my fault anyway.” She winced. “I shouldn’t have … done that.”

“I don’t know.” Jack smirked.

Ozma furrowed her brow at his response. He didn’t know what? Did he want her to do it again? He was tumbling prostitutes and guzzling pumpkin ale as a means to get over Tip. But even if he did see something to desire in her, she needed to keep to her decision and not shackle him with a crown. Still, those lush lips and those long fingers kept drawing her gaze.

The wagon bounced up and jolted to the side as a loud snap echoed. Ozma and Jack lurched forward, the stag grunting while trying to turn before coming to a halt. A sudden shift to the right caused Ozma to slide off the seat, releasing the reins, and clawing at air as her backside hit the ground. She groaned as a sharp ache ran up her spine. Jack almost landed on top of her, but grabbed her and rolled her with him to his back, until she was above him.

“Are you all right?” Jack rasped, lifting her chin. “Did it worsen your wounds from the undine?”

“I’m fine,” Ozma lied. Her back still throbbed, but it was slowly dissipating. She searched around to see if anyone had attacked the wagon, but only the stag stood there. “And you?”

“I’ve been through worse.” Jack’s smirk returned as he sat them both up with her in his lap. “This reminds me of last night. Your body against mine, your legs cradling my hips.” He tugged on a lock of her hair, twirling it around his finger. “Have I told you how much I like the gold?”

Something felt off here. The way he was looking at her, as though he wanted to kiss her right then. “Did you sneak pumpkin ale on the ride, or did you hit your head?” Ozma quickly stood, leaving his heat, and brushed the dirt from her dress. She glanced at the front of their ride, where one of the wheels had fallen off, making the wagon tilt to the right.

“Just lightening the mood.” He scanned their means of transportation and walked to a nearby tree where part of the wheel lay broken. “At least we weren’t being attacked.”

“This is only going to slow us down. Couldn’t the wagon have at least made it to the port first?” Perhaps she should have just taken the longer route and stayed on the sandy road. But it would take them longer to turn back now.

“Apparently, the wagon wasn’t made for softer terrain.” He tapped the closest tree with his knuckles.

Ozma shot Jack a dirty look as she strode toward the stag. He bucked his head and stomped in place. Hot air hit her face from each of his heavy snorts.

“Quit being antsy,” Ozma said, reaching out a hand to calm the stag, stroking his soft fur. She looked from the broken wheel to Jack. “You don’t have anything to fix it, do you?”

“Yes, I carry huge pristine wheels in my pocket.” He patted his pants and shook his head. “Of course not. I wouldn’t know how to replace a wagon wheel if I tried. Mombi always used magic to do things like that. She assumed I would have left it loose.” A wicked grin spread across his face, stretching his freckles. “Not that I wouldn’t have.”

Ozma gave him a small smile. She was good at repairing things back then and now, but even if she could change out a wheel, there wasn’t one for her to use.

The stag released another annoyed huff.

“All right. All right.” She reached for the reins and started to unbuckle the straps from his body. “Now you can be free.” There was no reason for the stag to stick around longer than he had to.

“Hold on now.” Jack lifted a hand toward the stag. “We can still ride him to the port and not lose any time.”

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