“She’s back. That bitch!” She pounded her tiny fists on the counter. “What is it, baby?” Glen drawled, his voice like a caress to her clit. A delicious shiver ran through her core but she ignored it. “That woman from next door. She’s in my garden, stealing my lettuce!” “Honey…” The scrape of Forrest’s chair as he pushed back from the table sent a sharp warning through her. “We’ve talked about this. It’s only lettuce.” He stepped up behind her, his arms and strength surrounding her. “But it’s the principle of the thing. She’s stealing from me and I’m a wicked witch.” Knowing it would do no good but needing the outlet, Malicia stomped her foot on the hardwood floor. “Honey,” Forrest warned. “We’ve been through this. If you hex your neighbors—” “Or threaten to hex them,” Glen added. “You will be punished.” “Well, then you’re just going to have to punish me.” She lifted her chin in defiance. She was a wicked witch and would always be and— Forrest spun her around and shoved her forward until her hands rested on the kitchen table.
