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Surrender Dorothy (Kinky Oz Book 2)

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by R. G. Alexander




  Surrender Dorothy

  Kinky Oz, Book 2

  R.G. Alexander

  Surrender Dorothy

  Copyright 2019 by R.G. Alexander

  Formatted by IRONHORSE Formatting

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Author’s Note

  This book was previously published in 2009. It has been extensively revised, edited and is significantly longer than the original version.

  Dedication

  For Cookie, love is the reason, now more than ever.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Thanks for Reading!

  Other Books from R.G. Alexander

  About R.G. Alexander

  Chapter One

  Why do you fight me? Let me inside.

  He was at it again. Every night, all night for the past two weeks he’d been whispering in her mind. Probing for entry. No force yet, but the persuasion was almost worse. Either way, it was enough to give a witch a migraine.

  Dorothy flung off the covers and got out of bed to stumble toward the kitchen. Maybe some hot chocolate with a sprinkle of Valerian would help her ignore the voice in her head that wouldn’t take no for an answer and let her get some sleep.

  “Why won’t he leave me alone?” she mumbled grumpily, noticing the clock on the stove. “Three in the morning. You’d think he’d at least stop poking at my brain long enough to get his beauty sleep.”

  We must speak face to face. Trust me. Trust in the magic inside you. I’m sure it knows I mean you no harm.

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s what they all say. Didn’t Aunt Glin tell you wizards were deceitful devils? Don’t answer. He’ll go away eventually.”

  She set a pan on the stove with more force than strictly necessary and filled it with milk, her features softening when a sleek, orange cat leapt onto the counter to mewl conversationally.

  “Don’t try to suck up now, Suki. I’m not talking to you either.”

  The cat’s eyes widened innocently. “Nice try. Some familiar you turned out to be. What happened to scratching my enemy’s eyes out? A few sardines—and yes I saw the empty tin so don’t deny it—was all it took to win you over to his side.”

  When she’d come home this afternoon to find a note from her new neighbor attached to the suspiciously sated Suki’s collar, she couldn’t get inside and lock her door fast enough. She’d even tried to call her aunt, but Glin was on another cruise. The older woman was busy enjoying her golden years right when Dorothy needed her the most.

  Suki nudged Dorothy’s hand with her head and she sighed, scratching her behind her fluffy ears until she felt some of her tension ease. “Fine, I still love you. It’s not your fault he’s such a charmer. Unfortunately for you, he doesn’t seem to be all that picky about who he charms.”

  Aunt Glin had spent an inordinate amount of time reminding Dorothy that wizards were born unfaithful, notorious horndogs who only cared about sex and power. She’d never wanted to believe it. She was the only kid in school who didn’t think of kindly wise men with flowing robes and long beards when someone said the word wizard. No. Thanks to Glin’s lectures, Dorothy imagined lecherous demons instead.

  But she never in her wildest dreams imagined anyone like Z. “It’s like he’s trying to break some kind of record.”

  Suki yowled in agreement.

  Dorothy had lived in Venice Beach for years, and she’d thought she’d seen all that the eccentric beachside community had to offer. There was no shortage of characters in the neighborhood. Honestly, it was one of the reasons she loved living here enough to put up with the tourists. In this crowd, a weather witch didn’t stand out at all.

  But he did. The wizard definitely stood out, and not just because of his long black hair, perfectly golden tan and a body that would stop a nun in her tracks.

  What was worse, every time she looked out her balcony window, the man was making another conquest.

  He didn’t seem to have a discernable type, a favorite gender or any rules about the number of people he allowed in his bed. In fact, from what she could tell, he seemed to prefer entertaining one of each. Usually at the same time.

  Dorothy had a front row seat for all of it since he lived in the condo across from hers. He seemed to have a personal vendetta against curtains and always poked around in her mind right before he played with his nightly guests.

  He wanted her to see him.

  Well, he’d gotten his wish, but the side effect of his exhibitionism was the reputation he was getting around the tightknit community. Neighbors she’d forgotten she had were finding reasons to visit her just so they could use her window to spy on the handsome new arrival.

  Her stepsister, Emily, was no more immune than anyone else. She may as well have moved in with the amount of time she spent here over the last week or two. Talk about a problem Dorothy didn’t need when dealing with little to no sleep and a persistent wizard.

  She and Emily didn’t exactly get along. Technically, they’d only been sort-of siblings for a single year. But for Dorothy, it had been more than enough. The amount of restraint it had taken not to use her fledgling powers on her stepsister was a feat she could still scarcely believe she’d accomplished.

  Emily was everything Dorothy wasn’t. Slim and blonde, rich and selfish. She’d been spoiled by her father, whereas Dorothy’s mother had hardly seemed to know she was alive, often leaving her in the care of her aunt for long stretches at a time.

  Except for that one, endless year.

  When their parents divorced, she was sure she’d never have to see the snooty little princess again. She could have friends that wouldn’t be stolen, crushes that wouldn’t be exploited, and a life that didn’t revolve around the bratty blonde.

  Much to her surprise and dismay, however, Emily refused to go away.

  Suki rubbed against her and Dorothy shook her head. “I’m a horrible person.”

  With adult hindsight, she’d realized that, other than her useless egomaniac of a father, Emily didn’t actually have any family. And lord knew, she couldn’t keep any friends. For some strange reason she’d decided to claim Dorothy as her sister, no matter what her father or anyone else thought about it. Stranger still, Dorothy couldn’t find it in her to turn the woman away.

  Even when she used her key to sneak in and
eyeball her perverted neighbor like a freak.

  Damn Kansas, anyway, she thought as she stirred in a few squares of dark chocolate into the steaming mixture. None of this would be happening if he were here.

  She’d known Kansas Frayne and his uncle for as long as she could remember. He’d always been there when she needed to vent about her mean stepsister and neglectful mother. Not even Emily or the imposing Aunt Glin could scare him away, which was saying something.

  After a nasty breakup with his boyfriend a few years ago, Kansas had moved to his farm in Iowa and shut himself down. It had broken her heart, but she’d refused to let him suffer in silence, calling him every week and sending regular email updates on her life.

  She’d started to worry when she hadn’t been able to get in touch with him for over a month.

  Then the email that started her new nightmare had arrived.

  Dee,

  Thought you might like to know that my Emo phase is over. Thank God, right? It’s got to be some kind of miracle. I wish we could go out and dance to celebrate, like old times, but I’ll be traveling for a while. Where I’m going, they probably won’t have cell service, so I won’t be able to keep our weekly phone date for the foreseeable future.

  Don’t hate me.

  You are, without a doubt, the best friend a guy could have. You didn’t have to stand by me all these years when I was being such an ass, but you did. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.

  When I can tell you more, I will. I promise. For now, just know that I finally believe in magic. After what I’ve experienced with my new husband, it has to be real.

  (Yes, I said husband. Don’t pass out).

  In other news, I’m letting a friend of said-husband and mine stay at the condo. He’s unusual, so he should fit right in. His name is Z, and he’s absolutely gorgeous and brilliant and…just be good and don’t give him too much grief, okay?

  I hope I’ll be able to talk to you soon,

  Kansas

  Husband had been the first thing she’d had to wrap her head around. He hadn’t even told her he’d been dating again! But what struck her the most was that his short, vague email sounded like a goodbye. Was his new husband part of a farmer’s cult? One that didn’t believe in technology? Why couldn’t he stay in touch with her?

  What the hell was going on?

  She’d called Kansas’ Uncle Frayne to find that he’d gotten a similar email. He wasn’t worried though. He assured her that Kansas wouldn’t be able to stay away from them for long. “Probably just on his honeymoon,” he’d chuckled.

  As for the Lothario that had moved in before she’d even closed her email? The second she’d seen him she’d recognized him and known exactly what he was. It had made her even more concerned about her best friend’s fate.

  What was Kansas doing hanging out with wizards?

  Z. She’d seen him in her dreams for weeks before he’d shown up. The golden man with a silver tongue. Her Aunt Glin had always said she would know when a particularly dangerous sorcerer was nearby. That it was part of her gift.

  She’d been right about that. It felt like static under her skin. A strange tug in her stomach.

  A voice in her head.

  Witches and wizards were natural enemies. Like tricksters, a wizard would use subterfuge, seduction and anything else at his disposal to drain a witch’s power. Their favorite trick, she’d been told, was pretending to be in love with their target.

  Her aunt had taught her how to shield her magic and her thoughts from an early age. If they couldn’t find her, she assured the young Dorothy, she might be safe.

  “But if one ever does,” Aunt Glin had warned. “Get away as fast and far as you can. Don’t succumb. No magic exists that can protect you from a broken heart.”

  Pouring her cocoa into a large mug, she wandered around her dark upstairs living room. She was at the window before she’d asked her feet to take her there, and she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t to look across the courtyard to the condo on the other side. The light turned on instantly, as if he’d been waiting for her to arrive. Bastard.

  Three beautiful, naked bodies walked toward the kitchen, a journey Dorothy followed through the wide bay windows that lined the living room. The woman had silky, short brown curls and an athlete’s body. A young giant of a man followed close behind. She laughed coyly and jumped out of reach when his hands reached out to caress the tempting skin in front of him.

  And then there was Z.

  What was that about anyway? What kind of guy had an initial for a name? Did he think it made him sound mysterious instead of pretentious? Did he do it knowing people would stay up at night wondering what it stood for? Zeke? Zachary? Zed? Zazu?

  Not that she’d given it much thought at all.

  She held her breath when he paused by the window, offering her a long, drool-worthy glimpse of his bare, golden body. Good Goddess, it never got old.

  She’d seen him in all his impossibly perfect glory so many times that she should have gotten used to it by now. But she was still riveted to those smooth, lickable pecs, his rippling abs and that…well, it had to be around ten inches of thick, hard masculine pride hanging between his muscular thighs.

  Danger. It’s a trap. Don’t give in.

  But oh, how she wanted to.

  It was so easy to imagine pressing up against him, tugging on his long, ebony braid as she pulled his head down for a deep, wet, open-mouthed kiss. Spreading her legs invitingly and offering herself up like some pagan sacrifice.

  If Aunt Glin could hear her thoughts, she’d be ashamed. Where was her pride? Did she want to be just one new notch on his bedpost? Did she really want to degrade herself with a man who probably wouldn’t even remember her name the next morning, who might even steal her power, just to experience one night of wild, untamed kink?

  In the worst way imaginable.

  Which was why she left in the morning before he arose, and didn’t return until he’d gone for his nightly prowl, information procured via text from her ever helpful, exceedingly nosy neighbors.

  Her aunt might not have taught her how to protect her home from non-magical trespassers and busybodies, but she had given her a way to ensure this Z couldn’t get inside without an invite. She’d never have to worry about wizard or vampire burglaries, she thought with a snort.

  If only there was a spell that could keep her away from her own window.

  The couple was rooting through the fridge, giggling and feeding each other grapes and pieces of cold pizza. Her hands tightened on her cooling mug as Z spoke to them, and the two immediately came to attention, drawn to his compelling magic.

  What would he make them do this time? Z enjoyed directing the show, that much she’d learned in these nightly peep sessions. He was like a hot, naked, very masculine Dr. Ruth, guiding them to the best sex of their lives. Occasionally he allowed them to stroke or suck him, but never to completion, and he never joined them in the final act.

  It didn’t jibe with all she’d learned about the selfish sexuality of the modern day wizard, but Dorothy got the distinct impression that he was saving himself for something. For her.

  “That’s what he wants us to think,” she muttered to Suki, who was now licking her paws at Dorothy’s feet. “Manipulative bugger.”

  The show was about to start. The young linebacker lifted his tiny female up onto the cold surface of the kitchen counter, where she laid back; bending her spread legs in an impossible position that told Dorothy she was deeply into yoga.

  It was obvious the young stud wanted to get to the main event right away, immediately positioning himself between her thighs with his hand on his cock. Dorothy’s lips curled. He was about to find out exactly what the wizard thought about skipping foreplay.

  Z didn’t disappoint. The linebacker jerked as he held him frozen in place with a word. Good for him. And good for his partner. Yoga babe deserved more than a “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” after joining him in this ménage adventure. E
very woman did.

  Z walked over to them and ran his hand soothingly over the man’s tense shoulders, sifting his short, blond hair through those magical fingers. Applying gentle pressure, the man was guided onto the stool beside the counter, his lips soft and featherlight against the woman’s inner thigh. Z smiled at the squirming female and traced his fingers over her abdomen, up towards her small, perky breasts.

  Dorothy felt the energy rising inside her, setting her mug down on the windowsill without though and following the path of his fingers over her body, beneath her long t-shirt. When he cupped the woman’s breast, Dorothy cupped her own, heavier flesh with a groan and the air around her crackled with power.

  Would he like them? Dorothy had always been overly endowed in the curve department, but she refused to use magic to alter her body so, unlike her aunt’s magical nip and tuck sessions, she’d stuck to the normal string of unsuccessful diets instead.

  Would he think her foolish or flawed for wanting to be desired for who she was, chocolate cravings and all?

  No. She knew it like she knew her own name. What she wasn’t as sure of was whether or not he’d want her for her body or her abilities.

  She squeezed her tender nipples, her blood heating and her hands trembling with a desire that had grown so strong over the last few nights it was driving her insane. She needed relief. She needed an orgasm.

  Thunder rumbled overhead as her free hand slid inside her plain cotton underwear to rub her clit. He couldn’t see her. He’d never know.

  The linebacker chose that moment to lose his patience. He stood and lifted the girl by her hips, flipping her onto her stomach. This time Z didn’t stop him, stepping back and giving Dorothy an unobstructed view.

  It felt wrong, watching them this way, but she couldn’t stop. She touched herself, fingers slipping through her arousal as the young man lifted the girl nearly off the counter to fill her again and again. Deeper. Harder.

 

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