Devils Roses 04 - Witch

make me come in there. Please."
    She could see the dark shadows swirling around the ground outside of the guards.
    "Is that your darkness?" She pointed.
    He looked around, "What? Where?"
    "There. The swirling shadows. You're evil and you bring darkness with you."
    He looked around, he never looked on the ground.
    "I don't see it. Is it behind me?"
    She raised an eyebrow, why couldn’t he see it?
    "O I don’t give a shit about the swirls of evil. I need you to hear me. I never would have done it if you hadn't asked me to. Please listen to me."
    She walked across the yard, "You are honestly going to tell me I asked you to fucking make out with her like it was an Olympic sport?"
    "Yes. No. Wait? What?"
    She nodded, "I watched you. I saw you. Your hands were in her hair and her hands were all over your back."
    He pointed at the old house and spit his words in fury, "You're dating that fucking dog. Behind my back, you're dating him. I've said nothing because I know it's part of the other world. But you could have broken it off by now."
    "That is besides the point. Wait you're spying on me and making out with her. Oh my god."
    He raked his hands through his hair, "You're going to kill me. I'm going to actually have a heart attack."
    She crossed her arms, "You have to have a heart."
    He looked up at the tops of the trees and screamed.
    She watched his bright red face ripple. He stepped across the boundary. He screamed in pain and dragged her across it. She looked at the shadows on the ground around her.
    He flashed them, as they crossed the guards fully.
    She pushed him away when her feet touched the dirt.
    She was horrified, "You crossed the guard?"
    He looked psychotic as he leaned into her, "I love you. I told you I love you." His breathing was labored.
    "You crossed the guards."
    He grinned, "I can do that."
    She took a step back, "You made out with my friend."
    He pinched the bridge of his nose like Lorri did when she talked to her. "It is NOT what you think it is. I am NOT attracted to her."
    Ophelia cocked her head.
    He laughed bitterly, "Well fine. She's attractive, but she isn’t my type."
    "She is everyone's type. There are blind people who can sense she is their type. She's my type and I'm not gay."
    He laughed again, "I mean, you are mine. You are the one that matters to me. I want you. The kiss meant nothing. The only type I have is you."
    She watched his face, "You set a trap and almost got Aimee killed."
    He pointed, "Not in this lifetime and you're bringing up old shit."
    She laughed, "Stop making me laugh. I'm mad at you."
    He reached for her hand, "O you're mine. Even though you're foul tempered and jealous and still dating a shifter." He pulled her in and gently brushed his soft lips against her. The air filled with aftershave and him. "You're mine."
    She felt his big arms wrap around her. She wanted to push him away. She wanted to be angry about Giselle but she couldn’t. She had slept wrapped in Ben's arms the night before. She kissed him back. His tongue slipped into her mouth. His hands pushed up into her hair. He gripped it slightly and pulled her head back from his, "I expect you will deal with the young shifter."
    She looked into his blue eyes and nodded.
    He bent back into the kiss. His hands roamed her back until they reached her backside. He squeezed her butt firmly. She started to laugh. He looked at her. She squirmed, "I'm ticklish."
    He squeezed again, making her arms and legs go everywhere. She screamed at him, "STOP IT!"
    He laughed watching her flail, "You go into full defensive when tickled?"
    She pushed him back, "I hate being tickled."
    He laughed, "Your mother is like that."
    She paused, "You know my mother?"
    He shook his head, "No. No one knows your mother. Your father told me. Sometimes he binds her and has her tickled. It's the only time he hears her laugh or sees her smile."
    She felt sick, "That’s horrid."
    He shrugged, "Could be a lot worse." His blue eyes darkened, "Trust me."
    "Where is my brother really?"
    He looked around and sat on a log next to her, "Tristan is a prisoner. He's a sweet kid. He wants you to win. He wants to be free."
    She swallowed hard, "Where's your son?"
    "With Tristan. They're friends. Well that’s not entirely true. They're lovers. They want nothing more than to live together and be together in a sunny place where they never have to see Jonathan again."
    She felt confused, "Why would you let your only son live there? In those conditions?"
    He