Jane Davey’s Locket by Eve Langlais Page 0,20

I’d seen the golden glint of my precious. Hence why I didn’t fight as the appendage curled around me and dragged me into the ocean. Having been raised around water, I’d sucked in a deep breath, and took the first few moments to catch my bearings while trying to locate where my necklace had gone.

It appeared stuck on one of the sea monster’s suckers and dangled just out of reach. I had to be careful. If I killed the beast and it sank, I’d lose the locket. Not entirely a bad thing, given the spell on it; however, I wanted the memento from my mother.

Before I could act, Oz interfered once more. The idiot did some pathetic dive into the water and then did his strange sea-scrabble to try and reach me.

It was stupid.

And cute.

Sweet enough that I couldn’t let him drown. I wiggled my toes and pulled at my magic. Which some might mistakenly assume weak given I was underwater. That only applied to regular witches. Not only was I descended from a long line of sea witches, I was half pirate, too. The ocean sang in my blood.

The jolt of magic I expelled forced the tentacle to release me, and I wasted no time. Hands by my sides, I shoved out more magic to propel my body to the sinking man.

Oz’s eyes were closed, his body limp. There was no reaction when I snared a hold of his shirt. A garment that couldn’t hold the body. He slipped out of it, and I had to go deeper, my lungs starting to protest. I grabbed Oz more firmly this time, my arms around his torso, expelling magic through my toes. A little more erratic when it came to guiding us, yet we emerged with a splash and a flop, like a submarine suddenly surfacing.

I sucked in a huge breath, but he didn’t. I quickly stroked to a floating dock where cruise line employees stood by and helped to heave Oz from the water. They turned him onto his side and acted in his best interest.

I didn’t care. I shoved them aside.

“Let me handle this.” I knelt by him and put my hands on his chest, willing my magic into his lungs, drawing out the seawater in them. It emerged in wet gouts, and still, he didn’t breathe.

“Come on, Oz. Don’t you dare die. You haven’t found my locket yet,” I grumbled even as I didn’t understand my concern for him.

I pressed on his chest, applying compression, and when that still didn’t work, I leaned down to put my lips on his. A breath into his mouth. Stop. Breathe in. Stop.

At the same time, I willed him to live. Come on, kitty. You don’t want to die yet.

I straddled him, and that was the only reason I noticed him recovering. The cock pinned under me swelled. The soft lips I’d been breathing past hardened, and the lifesaving turned into kissing.

Oz woke suddenly—horny—flipping me onto my back, the hardness of him pressing against me, his lips slanting over mine and taking over the embrace, igniting my senses.

It took the crowd cheering us on, “Live porno! Someone get a camera,” for me to realize that we had an audience—and almost not care.

Grandma, on the other hand, cared. She screeched, “Not again! Get that animal off my granddaughter. She’s supposed to be engaged to someone else.”

No, I wasn’t. Screw the current owner of the locket. Like hell was I marrying a sea monster.

But the kiss had to end. Mostly because someone yanked on Oz, exclaiming, “What are you doing? Mom and Jellia will kill you if they see you making out with a witch.”

The fact that Oz roared his displeasure helped. That he rolled off me annoyed.

I went to sit up and found myself smothered in a towel with Grandma screeching, “Have some respect for yourself, Janey. Don’t be your mother.”

Sigh.

For a moment, I’d forgotten who he was, where I was, and what I wanted. Which was to not be involved with any man.

As I got to my feet, my gaze met Oz’s for a moment as he looked away from his haranguing sibling. Our eyes locked. Heat and awareness passed through the gaze. A whisper with no voice that said—

The strange connection between us broke as something whipped from the water, spraying water droplets and causing the crowd on the floating dock to utter an “Ooooh.”

The tentacle from the deep was back. Unlike mundane humans, the milling passengers didn’t run screaming and