Page 17 of Bewitched & Bewildered (Witches of Starbrook #1)

Chapter 17

Juniper

We kissed, and he kissed my forehead. We held hands. I have my reasons for avoiding Ozan over the upcoming days.

Work is hellish. Everyone who comes into the shop is whispering, and it’s probably about us. I can’t convince myself otherwise.

The shop is busier today. I can’t tell if it’s because of the rumors going around or the marketing efforts from the festival. Either way, I don’t want to be at the apothecary. What I want is to disappear.

The sentiment is especially true when Ozan steps into the shop.

I grimace. I’m probably supposed to be nice to him now, but it’s more complicated than ever. I spent days pushing away the feelings the potion brought to the surface, but it’s impossible.

I’m thinking of his lips on mine. The feeling of his rough fingers brushing against mine is stuck, playing on repeat, and I can’t turn it off. It’s all so overwhelming.

Being in the same room as him, breathing shared air… his presence engulfs me. My heart threatens to break free from my chest. My hands ball into fists as I fight the urge to touch him.

“Aw…” Ozan leans against my counter. “Don’t look like that.”

He’s so easygoing, which has always annoyed me, but now it’s infuriating. Our kiss changed my life; it transformed how my mind is wired. Did it mean nothing to him?

“Like what?” I ask.

“Like I’m the last person you want to see.”

“You are.” My heart picks up speed, a sign I’m lying.

His long, thick fingers drum against my countertop. He’s wearing rings—one with an emerald, one with a ruby. Thankfully, there is not a wedding band in sight.

I shake my head, lifting my gaze to meet his. It takes me a moment to notice Ozan is…a little off. His hair is messy, his expression looks frazzled, and his shirt has a dark stain.

“What happened to you?” I ask.

He glowers. “Well… you wanted to pay me back, didn’t you?”

“I think we’re past that.”

“Maybe.” He sighs. “I still need your help.”

Having him come to me for help is a change of pace. I like it.

“Of course, you do.” I smile smugly. “What do you need help with?”

“I had a fucking potion spill,” he grumbles. “And before you laugh, it’s not funny. It’s eating through my floorboards as we speak. Can you close up and come over, or am I out of luck?”

My eyes widen.

This is the second potion spill in his shop, and unlike the last one, it sounds like cold water won’t cut it .

I wasn’t taking the situation seriously, but I am now. Depending on the strength of this potion, this can be a real problem. I’ve seen explosions, fires, and more. Despite our petty feuds, I want to help him avoid setting the town on fire.

“You should have started with that!” I blurt. “You need a neutralizer potion!”

“A what?”

I formulated a potion for situations like these, but there’s no time to explain that. I bend low, grab the spray bottle from the cupboard, and sprint out of the shop.

“You didn’t close up!” he calls.

“Maple is in the office!”

But I don’t bother calling out to her, and I don’t look back.

I should be happy. I was upset about his apothecary opening, but now? There’s a chance of it burning to a crisp. Losing the competition would be a good thing, but my stomach twists.

I’m out of breath as we breeze through the empty shop. “Where is it?”

“In the back.”

He guides me there. Ozan has seen every inch of my shop, but I’ve never been back here.

His back is more extensive than ours. He has crates and crates of supplies—which may be the problem. I doubt he’s storing his potions properly.

There’s already a hole the size of a large cat in the middle of the floor.

“You’re lucky Evren didn’t fall into this.” I spray the neutralizer on it, and the floor stops eating itself. My heart keeps hammering.

“He’s upstairs. Don’t worry. ”

“This is hideous,” I say. “You’re going to have to patch up the floor. There’s no way around it.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Juni?—”

I turn to face him with a glare. “How did this happen?”

“A spill.”

“Was it your cat again?”

He grimaces. “Does it make me sound better if it is?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Fine. It was me.”

“You had better be more careful.” I step closer. “Potions are serious magic. I know they aren’t the same as your rituals and magic words, but you can get hurt and?—”

“Juniper.” He places his hands on my shoulder. The weight grounds me. “I know. Thank you. This won’t happen again.”

“It won’t,” I say, “because I am teaching you how to store your potions properly. There’s nothing you can say to stop me.”

“Really?” A smile spreads onto his face. “You’re willing to do all that for little ol’ me?”

I nod. “Believe it or not, I don’t want you to die.”

“How sweet.” He touches his chest. “You know the way to a man’s heart.”

I turn away so he can’t see me smile. “Show me where you store your potions long term.”

As expected, he leads me to a wooden chest. I push it open.

“This won’t do.” I click my tongue.

“Why not?”

“Because, as you saw, potions eat through wood. It needs to be gold in case a bottle breaks.”

“You want me to buy a gold chest? Real, solid gold? ”

“Yes.” I lift a brow. “It’s a business expense—and a necessary one if you’re going to sell potions.”

“There isn’t a charm for that?”

“Not a foolproof one, and not one for long-term use. Magic against magic is a mess. You know that.”

“Fine. How should I store them when they’re on display?”

I walk back to the shop, looking at his display case.

“Behind glass like this is fine for the daytime,” I say. “But make sure you put them back in the gold chest at night. Just in case.”

“I cannot believe you have a gold chest.”

“You better believe it. It’s been in my family for centuries.” I lean against the countertop.

The frazzled look he wore before is replaced with ease and comfort.

“What about pewter?” he asks. “That’s the stuff cauldrons are made of, right? Why doesn’t that work?”

“This is about long-term use. If you want something you can store a potion in for months and years, you must go with gold.”

“And what about glass?—”

“Let me stop you there. Gold .”

“But they’re stored in glass bottles?—”

“The gold chest is in case a bottle breaks. Accidents happen.”

His eyes narrow. “I’m starting to think you’re sabotaging me. Are you sure you don’t just want to put me in the hole a couple thousand bucks?”

“If I wanted to sabotage you, I wouldn’t have come over.” I smile sweetly. “And I wouldn’t tell you about the gold chests. If you think this is bad, imagine multiple potions spilling and mingling together. ”

I’ve never experienced it, thanks to my mother’s severe warnings.

“Good point.” He smiles softly. “I guess it’s kind of sweet… you caring about keeping me alive and all that.”

“Stop. It’s not…”

Our eyes meet, and warmth blossoms in my face and chest. With the threat of a burning town no longer hanging over our heads, my desire for him returns.

I look down.

He steps forward. I don’t notice how close he is until his finger is on my chin, lifting until I’m forced to look at him.

My chest heaves with each breath.

“I appreciate this,” he says. “More than you know. Running this shop alone is?—”

“It’s hard.”

“It is.”

My expression softens. “Oz, I…”

“What is it?” His hand moves to rest on the side of my neck.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“About what?” He smirks.

“You know what.”

“I do know.”

When I think he’s going to make me spell it out for him, he leans in.

His mouth finds mine, and there’s no question this time. There’s no tenderness. He kisses me hard. His fingers splay across my neck, resting there, never applying pressure, but…

My mind swims with thoughts. It’s too close to my fantasies of his powerful fingers pressing against my neck. I clench my thighs together.

His lips part, and this time, I’m the one accepting the invitation. My tongue greedily delves into his mouth, hungry for a taste of him.

A grunt flows from his lips to mine. I let out a gasp as he grabs my thighs and lifts me with ease, placing me on the countertop. It’s too easy to lose myself with him, forgetting the large window revealing us to the world.

He pulls away. Our breaths are ragged. My eyes are still closed in a feeble attempt to avoid his gaze.

A soft ping hits my ears. My lids flicker open. Through a fluttering haze, I realize he’s taking off his rings.

He takes each off slowly, placing them on the countertop beside me.

“I thought of a way to thank you,” he murmurs.

“D—did you?”

He nods. I don’t dare break his gaze. His hand moves to my thigh again, but this time, it slips underneath my dark dress. He cups my heat in his large hand.

Ozan hardly touches me—there’s still fabric in the way—but he applies the slightest pressure, and I melt.

His eyes darken.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“About what?” If I’m supposed to know what he’s talking about. I don’t. My mind goes blank.

“My plan.” He nuzzles his nose against mine and chuckles under his breath. “Can I take care of you, Juni?”

My chest flutters. I nod, incapable of finding the words.

“Let me hear it.” He touches me with more pressure, his fingers rubbing against my underwear. “What’s your answer? Yes, or no?”

I gasp. “Yes!”

His lips are on mine again, biting and bruising as his fingers work circles around me. I throb under his firm touch .

This is too much. I don’t need him to thank me like this—but oh, how I want it. I’m too weak to tell him he can stop, and how he looks at me says he doesn’t want to. His eyes never tear from mine, locked on as he pushes my underwear to the side.

“You’re soaking,” he says. “Why is that?”

“You know why.” My hands press against the wooden countertop, and I lean my weight onto them. “Don’t make me say it.”

His large frame blocks anyone from seeing me, but someone could walk in. The thought is thrilling.

“I want to hear it.” The hand around my throat squeezes tighter. “Is it for me?”

“Yes.” Gods, he’s still so frustrating. I lean forward and nip at his lower lip. “I want you, Ozan. I’m wet for you .”

It would hurt my ego if he weren’t making me feel good.

His finger plunges into my core—a single finger, and it’s already so thick. Pressure coils in my belly.

“Do you like when I do this?” He squeezes my neck again. “Do you want me to choke you?”

My heart races. “Yes.”

“Fuck.” He pumps his finger into me, and his thumb brushes against my clit. “You’re so good. I never knew you would feel this good—this wet, this soft. I never knew you would let me touch you like this.”

I didn’t think I would… and I cannot believe we fit so well together. We do. It’s as if he knows my body already.

He adds another finger, and I moan, quivering under his touch.

His lips find my neck, pressing soft kisses as he pumps his fingers into me. Each thrust creates electricity, urging me closer to the edge. I tilt my head back, and my moans grow louder .

Desire threatens to burst from me like magic of its own. Ozan manages to unravel me with his fingers alone, and I become a quivering, shaking, whining mess.

“That’s right,” he says. “Let me feel you. Let me hear you.”

I should stifle the sounds, but I don’t. I let him hear me as I twitch and moan beneath his touch. He presses soft kisses to the side of my neck.

I blink up at the ceiling. He slowly pulls away, fixing me with a cautious but lustful gaze.

“How was that?” he asks softly. “Was that good for you?”

I blush from head to toe. “Oh, yes. It was… more thanks than I deserved.”

“Yeah?”

I nod, smiling sheepishly.

“I disagree.” He wets his lips. “I think you deserve more.”

Standing above me, Ozan looks like a god. His rugged features, chiseled jawline, and the depth of his eyes take me in. He’s wrong; this pleasure is more than I deserve, but… I’m allowed to be selfish. Just this once.

My fingers graze over his crotch. I let out a soft gasp, surprised to find him rock hard already. My lips pop open.

Ozan’s rough fingers are on my hand in a heartbeat, stopping me from going further.

He’s rejecting me, and that’s within his right. I’ll accept it gracefully, yet my heart plummets with a realization.

This truly was a way of repaying his debt, and it wasn’t for me. It was more.

“I need to close the shop,” he says. “Go upstairs and wait for me.”

Hope returns .

I’m a mess. He has me all over the place—emotionally. One moment, I’m riddled with anxiety and sure he doesn’t want me. The next, I’m soaring.

“Okay.” My voice trembles. “I’ll wait upstairs.”

OZAN

Juniper is surprisingly obedient. How she nods and scurries up to my studio apartment makes my pants tighter. I watch her from behind as she disappears, unleashing a heavy sigh only once she’s gone.

Someone could have walked in on us. I should know better. My reputation in Starbrook would have been destroyed.

I’m willing to do crazy things for Juniper. I would assume she was trying to get the shop shut down, but… she’s been different lately. So have I. We’ve been helping each other out instead of competing.

My hands shake as I stomp up the stairs, and butterflies flap in my stomach. I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous about tangling with someone, but…

It’s been a while. Juniper is difficult to please—or so I would have assumed. The assumption was wrong. She unraveled under my fingers so fast.

“It’s me!” I call into the studio apartment as I step inside.

The words are meant to be a warning, but it seems she doesn’t need one. Juniper is fully nude in the middle of my kitchen .

My jaw drops. I’m already hard from touching her, but as my eyes wander down her abundant body, my pants are uncomfortably tight.

Her belly is round and soft, as are her thick, creamy thighs. Even the plushness of her upper arms is enticing. Her nipples are stiff, pink peaks in the center of large, round breasts. I want to taste them and feel how she squirms beneath me when I do.

My eyes draw to the curve of her waist, down to her wide hips.

Finally, I meet her eyes. Behind her confidence, there’s a waver.

“Is this okay?” she asks.

I’ve never seen her so unsure of herself. The blush on her face spreads from her cheeks to her chest, and I sigh softly.

“It’s too much,” she says, shaking her head.

“No, no. Never too much.” I touch the front of my pants, absentmindedly rubbing myself as I step closer. My pleasure coils in me, and I know I’ll need release soon. “You look… fuck, you look so good.”

I want to call her beautiful, but I’m unsure if she wants to hear it. Her being here at all is surprising. I can’t believe she’s blessing me with the vision of her perfect body.

Her delicate fingers grip my wrist. She moves my hand away from my bulge.

“This is for me,” she says, grabbing me through my pants. “Mine.”

I groan, rolling my eyes. She doesn’t mean it like I want her to. Juniper doesn’t want any part of me to be hers . It doesn’t matter. I can’t convince my body otherwise.

“All yours,” I mumble.

She undoes my buttons with skillful fingers, and I rip off my shirt. She’s naked. I want her to be comfortable. Getting undressed with her should do the trick.

Juniper doesn’t seem to care about anything but my hard cock. She pushes down my pants to reveal it, her eyes glued there. I don’t think I have anything to be insecure about—but I’ve been with Vanessa for so long… and she wandered off to someone else.

She was the first and last person to see me like this. I bury my insecurities.

Her hungry eyes flicker to meet mine. She swallows thickly, and I watch the way her throat moves. I hold her neck again, brushing my thumb against the middle.

She wraps her hand around my length. Her thumb swipes against the head of my cock, wetting her finger with pre-cum.

“You’re so big,” she whispers.

Heat rises. I don’t know what to say, but the words help put my worries at ease.

My lips part. She lifts her thumb and licks it as if she’s savoring the slightest taste of me. Her pink tongue darts out to swipe against her thumb, and I’m in awe, my eyes darkening at the sight.

I tighten the hand around her throat, and she lets out a moan.

There’s so much I want to do with her. I want her on her knees, begging for me. I want her from behind. I want to stare into her ocean eyes while I fuck her into oblivion…

But I don’t know how long I’ll last if she lets me shove my cock down her pretty throat right now.

With my hand still around her neck, I guide her through the small apartment. There’s a couch, a kitchen island with stools, and a bed. We navigate around the furniture to get to where I want her .

“I need you in my bed.”

“Oh!” She makes a soft sound of surprise as she falls into my king-sized bed. Her long hair splays out among my sage sheets. Juniper is the picture of beauty. The sight of her alone has me throbbing with need.

“I’ll make you beg the gods for mercy.” Kneeling on the floor, I grip her thighs and pull her to the edge of the bed.

“Oz…”

Without responding, I bury my face between her thighs and inhale her sweet scent. I bite at her thigh, savoring the sound of her gasp. Her graceful fingers grasp the sheets.

“I thought you were done paying me back…?” she breathes.

“I’m never done.” This is only the start. I’ll do this as long as she lets me. I lick a long stripe, lapping up every bit of arousal she’s left for me. She’s soaked. Each taste is sweeter and wetter than the last. My eyes flicker up, watching the lust painted on her perfect, round face. “I want to live here. Let me die between your thighs.”

Her back arches as I lick the same spot, desperate to make her come again. My cock is still hard, and I take it in my hand, stroking myself as I lap her up.

She is lush. Each sound she makes is sensual, throaty, and raspy. To push her to the edge is nearly enough to get me off.

I won’t. I need to feel her around me. It’s the only chance I have.

“Gods. Goddess. Please.” Her last cries come out as I knew they would. Her thick thighs wrap around my head to keep me in place.

I won’t move. I lick and suck until she releases her firm grip. Juniper writhes on my bed, gripping the sheets, as I tower above her .

She watches through heavy lids as I stroke myself. My eyes wander over her body. She’s on display for me, a feast, and I want to try it all. Uselessly, she motions with her fingers, reaching to me. Juniper wants to take me in her velvet touch, but I won’t let her.

She’s given me everything I need. I’m hard without a single touch from her, and all I want is to feel her warm, wet pussy around me.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget your name.” I move onto the bed and kneel between her legs.

“Yes,” she whines.

I rub the head of my cock through her arousal, sighing as she coats my leaking, needy head.

“Do you want me to turn around?” she asks.

The question comes out so earnest—it’s nearly innocent. It’s tempting. I want to worship her ass and take her from behind, but…

Not yet.

“No,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss her plush lips. “I’m going to watch your pretty face as you take my every inch. I want to see the way your pussy sheaths me and how your face twists when I fill you. Is that what you want?”

She’s blushing again. She nods, and her eyes soften.

I line myself up with her entrance, and her wet pussy is already trying to swallow me. So ready for me, wet and clenching around nothing. The only sound that comes from her is a soft, needy whine.

I’ve never heard her sound like that before.

Juniper wants me. She’s looking at me with hunger; her back arches, and her manicured nails dig into my shoulders.

She’s so soft. I hold on to a thick thigh, hitching it up as I sink into her warm, wet pussy. Her mouth opens, and her head flops back as she unleashes a loud moan .

“That’s right,” I say. “No one can hear you, baby. Let me know how good it feels.”

“Ozan…”

My name is a sound of desire now. It sounds prettier than even her moans. I grunt, holding back from finishing too soon. I’m not entirely inside her yet. I want to go slow, to make her whine and beg…

My body doesn’t want that. It wants to fuck her hard, to find release. It’s been so long.

“That’s right.” I push another inch, and she lets out a cry. “Say my name. Whose pussy is this?”

She glares, but it’s more playful than I’m used to. There’s still a look of lust behind her pretty eyes.

“It’s yours, Ozan. Take it.” She whimpers as I give her another inch. “Stop holding back.”

Her thighs open wider, and she bucks against me, her nails digging into my back hard enough to leave marks. I grunt. My eyes threaten to flicker shut.

“I don’t know how long I’ll last,” I say.

I don’t dare to move. My hand slides from her thigh to her throat, squeezing as I slowly rotate my hips.

She cries out again. Her pussy clenches around me with each rotation, and I know it won’t be long for her, either.

I can make her come again. I must .

“You feel like heaven,” I say. “You’re a gift from the gods.”

I pull out—and give her a brutal thrust, earning another moan.

“More,” she whimpers.

Squeezing her neck tighter, I find my pace, thrusting into her. I lean in to kiss her on the mouth, pushing my tongue in to taste her. My mouth swallows each of her moans .

When her soft hand moves to my balls, I know it’s over.

I’m gone. Electricity takes me. I can’t hold back, and she doesn’t want me to.

She cradles my sac, and I fuck into her hard, punishing, forgetting myself. Her eyes flicker open, locking onto mine. I can’t look away. Her moans become screams, and the sound makes my abdomen flex.

“Close,” I mutter.

“More,” she says again.

“Yes.”

I let out a few final groans. My hips sputter as her pussy clenches around me—hard, tight, too much—and I spill into her. She goes limp beneath me. The sounds of our desire mingle together, and my mouth is on hers again, claiming her with a bruising kiss.

Mine .

JUNIPER

His apartment is acceptable. It’s nicer than most single men I’ve visited, and while it’s only a fraction of the size of our family home, there’s something cozy about the little studio. I can appreciate it.

It was good enough for me to get naked in his bed. I’m still there, curled under the covers as he shuffles around the little kitchen.

I should go home. My sisters will worry about me if I don’t.

Me staying out all night is unheard of… but the sun sets be fore I know it, and I’m comfortable in his bed. He gives me a soft blanket to wrap around myself. I feel like I’m on a cloud. I’m unsure I can move, even though I know I should.

The view isn’t bad, either. The apartment is one room, making it too easy to watch him as he works. He stands with his back to me in the kitchen, and his muscles move as he slices something. Freckles are splattered across his warm skin, even in the middle of autumn.

How did I never notice the freckles?

I force myself to tear my gaze away when he joins me in bed. He sets a plate of snacks between us. Cut-up apples, a dipping container of caramel, a handful of pomegranate seeds, and chocolate. I’ve had worse post-sex offerings.

Pomegranates are sensual, and he knows it—especially for a witch who works with Persephone. A witch like me.

“Is this dark chocolate?” I pick up a square.

“Of course.” His eyes crinkle. “Only the best for you.”

I roll my eyes and pop the piece of chocolate into my mouth. It melts, and I do, too, leaning back into the abundance of pillows.

His eyes are still on me. They rake over my bare shoulders and move down to where my breasts disappear under the blanket. The way he watches me makes me feel like a goddess.

A thrill runs up my spine, and I force myself to ignore it. Whatever I feel for him must be over now. Tonight needs to be enough.

“I doubt this is your best.” I turn my head away, fixated on the furniture in his room.

Notably, there’s an old rocking chair near the window. That’s safer to look at than how his cheeks dimple and how the freckles are painted across his strong nose .

“You’re right,” he says. “I can do a lot better. Stick around and see for yourself.”

I pick up a pomegranate seed and pop it into my mouth. It bursts, and I pluck up another one, working my way around my response.

My eyes move to his. “I’m going to leave once I can feel my legs.”

His smile turns into a frown, lines appearing between his brows. “Don’t go.”

“Why not?”

“Because”—he lifts a piece of chocolate to my mouth, leaning closer—“I want you to stay. Please, baby. Stay.”

Baby . My cheeks turn hot. I shouldn’t like Ozan calling me baby, but… gods, I do.

I accept the piece of chocolate, letting my lips brush against his fingers. “I shouldn’t.”

“You should.” He turns away and lifts a goblet from his bedside table. “I brought you a potion and everything.”

Right. To make sure I don’t get pregnant. I recognize the color and sheen. It’s a commonly known birth control potion used by witches and many others. Most witches keep some on hand.

I snort. “Don’t tell me you brewed it yourself.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then I’ll take it.” I take the goblet from him and peer into the sparkling blue liquid. It looks correctly made. I lift the goblet to my lips and drain it.

Silence passes.

“Thank you,” I murmur, incapable of meeting his eye.

I can’t remember the last time I had someone to bring me food and drink—to bring me a potion instead of asking me to brew it. I bite at the inside of my cheek. Telling him how nice this feels, how new it is… I can’t do that .

But I can thank him, and when he looks at me through dark eyes, I think he may be reading between the lines.

“Don’t thank me,” he says. “Stay.”

Why shouldn’t I? I can stay. It doesn’t mean I’m giving him anything—not my heart or another night. I’m here to enjoy his bed and his snacks. Nothing else.

“Okay. I’ll stay.”