Bewitch Me - A Halloween Collection (4 page)

As though he wasn’t driving me out of my freaking mind.

“He’s taking her,” said Jane, caught up in the visual and the hard press of Wes in and around her, “Oh my God, Wes, he’s huge. He’s taking her ass! How is that possible?”

Wes laughed, but it was strained, and she felt the power of his thrusts increase, his balls slapping against her with every surge and retreat. It felt incredible, and Jane realized that she could give him this. He was willing to give up the exhibitionist side of his world for her. In exchange, she could fuel his fantasy life from time to time, and her own. Jane let her voice get breathy, her tone seductive.

“The warlock is standing on the table now. God, look at that cock. It’s almost as big as yours. He’s pressing it against her lips. She’s opening her mouth. Mmm…she’s sucking it. That looks like fun. Maybe we should try that, what do you think?”

Wes
growled
behind her, and suddenly, Jane felt the stroke of invisible fingers on her clit, milking in time with each thrust, while his big hands stroked and kneaded her breasts, and then Jane was coming, hurled over the edge. Wes followed her over, filling her up, bathing them both in the hot wash of his seed that overflowed to dampen her thighs. Wes collapsed against her back, panting.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

“Wes, my legs,” said Jane.

Kinky was all well and good, but she was starting to cramp.

“Oh, yeah,” said Wes, and brought them back down to the ground to lean against the shelves.

Jane snuggled against him, sated and exhausted and content for the first time in a long while. Now that they were post-coital, Jane started to notice the chill.

“I don’t suppose you can zap us back to your place?” she asked, and Wes chuckled.

“Zapping with humans can be a little tricky, and you’ve got me a little worn out, baby.”

“Then I should probably put some clothes on,” said Jane, but made no move to get up, her hands learning the hard ridges of muscle and reaching lower to pet his cock and squeeze the tight muscles of his ass.

WES LOVED IT.

But his little mortal was developing goosebumps, and the thought of clothes irritated him.

He focused for a minute, and with a POP, a comfortable mattress complete with thick down bedding appeared on the ground between the shelves.

“Nice,” said Jane and hopped up to investigate, burrowing under the covers with a sigh of bliss.

Wes joined her, pleased when she snuggled close again, her chilly little body warming up quickly. He yawned.

“We’re doing everything backwards, you know,” he said, and yawned again, “we’re supposed to save the really kinky stuff until later.”

“Does it matter?” asked Jane, half asleep.

“Sure. Dating, then sex, then crazy sex, then you move in with me, then we get married, more sex, a few witchlings. There’s like a whole list. I’ll show you.”

Jane roused herself, propping her arms on his chest to look down into his face.

“And do I get a say in any of this?”

“Baby, without you, there is no list. Where else am I going to find someone so talented, hot, and smart? How else am I going to learn how to make a cheese soufflé that will wow the neighbors?”

He waiting for her to slap him down or dismiss the compliments, but Jane only kissed him, her eyes soft.

“Aw. You say the sweetest things. Don’t let me forget, I need to call Esme in the morning.”

Progress.

Wes rolled her under him, relishing the give of her soft curves.

“We’ll take it slow. I want you to be happy with me and my kind, Jane.”

He sucked in a breath as his cock found the soft heat between her thighs.

“Hold on, big boy. I need a nap,” said Jane, giggling.

“You’ll barely notice me, I promise.”

“Oh, there’s an incentive.”

Jane tugged him down next to her, snuggling into his arms again. Wes relaxed. He could wait a little while. They had plenty of time. The sounds of the orgy outside were muffled now, and Wes knew the lust spell was wearing off. Soon the ballroom would be empty save for the cleaning crew and they could make their escape, but it was toasty and comfortable in their little fridge. Might as well wait it out.

“Think I’m falling in love with you, Jane,” he murmured, “Don’t freak.”

“’Kay,” she replied, totally out of it, “Me too.”

Wes just grinned. He’d be sure to remind her in the morning.

With a soft kiss, he followed her into dreamland.

CASS WEBSTER SHUT THE door on the last of her sisters with a decisive click and sternly ordered the house to behave itself. Naturally, the stately Victorian, still on an architectural high from having four powerful witchy whirlwinds over for brunch, completely ignored her. Doors and cupboards flapped, drawers opened and closed, and the lights flickered out a rhythm that might have been a samba.

Feeling headachy and tight with pent-up magic, Cass sank into her favorite overstuffed chair and rubbed her temples.

A week of peace and quiet, at last.

It had taken every last ounce of stubbornness to convince the girls that joining them for the annual Halloween clan reunion in Ireland was a bad idea. Her powers were still too new, too uncontrollable, and all Cass wanted was to make bats out of construction paper with her third-graders, lounge on the porch swing with a mug of hot cider and a good book, and daydream about a certain sexy, green-eyed neighbor down the block.

Thinking about the reunion, Cass shuddered. The clan was huge – a crazy and powerful blend of witches and warlocks, half-fairies, elves, goblins, and so forth, who all descended on a crumbling Irish castle for a week of revelry away from oblivious mortals along with their spouses, friends, and significant whatevers. It was loud, bawdy, and they couldn’t get through the week without at least one orgy or someone being set on fire or turned into a butter churn or something equally problematic. Cass loved her extended family, but a small dose went a long way.

Brooding, Cass took a deep breath and attempted to conjure up a cup of tea.

SNAP!

A teabag and a frying pan plopped into her lap and she sighed.

I suppose that’s progress.

Cass had grown up without powers, which was a great source of humiliation for the shy little girl and the family at large. Her sisters alternately tormented her and stood up for her – seemingly a full mortal, she made an easy target. Cass wrinkled her nose, remembering nasty hexes and humiliating transformations. The goat incident had been the worst. Her father was baffled and upset, but her mother just patted her knee and reassured her – it would all work itself out eventually. Cass grew up not fitting in anywhere, having to hide her family’s secret from the world, but not being able to relate to the thrill of great power at her fingertips. And so she did her best to carve out a perfectly normal life for herself. She loved being a teacher, she loved her little New England village, and aside from the occasional family magical disaster, life was blessedly ordinary.

Until
the incident.

Two weeks ago, on a frigid morning, Cass had been making breakfast and listening to the sound of Tom Owens chopping firewood in his backyard a few houses down. One moment she was dreamily thinking about the hard muscles of his shoulders under a thin t-shirt as he hefted the axe, about how those gorgeous rough hands would feel on the sensitive flesh between her thighs, and the next moment – POP! – she was standing ten feet behind him, in her pajamas, holding a tea kettle. Completely shocked, she’d rushed home before he could spot her and called her family in an absolute panic.

They were
thrilled.
Beyond thrilled. Her mother couldn’t stop crying, and her father gruffly informed her that he always knew she had it in her. Her sisters had been celebrating ever since.

Cass, on the other hand, was spooked. Once the door was opened, her being was flooded with magic that she had almost no control over, that worsened when she was upset or emotional. Her sisters were dismissive, reassuring her that it just took practice, and ready to drag her off to magic-soaked revelry in Ireland. Cass dug her heels in. This was a small community, with everyone in everyone else’s business. She had a hard enough time explaining away the occasional magical nonsense that inevitably occurred when her family visited. Now all she wanted was to avoid accidentally turning one of her students into a guppy while she got a hold of her new abilities.

Magic or no, Cass had errands to run. Her stomach jumped a little at the thought of the first item on her list. She pulled on a blue velvet jumper that brought out the glints in her straight black hair and darkened her eyes to violet, along with her favorite knee-high boots.

Maybe he’ll notice.

Cass dismissed the foolish thought, grabbed a jacket and scarf, and headed out the door. The house was calming down now, with only a few lingering cupboards banging in the kitchen. It was a beautiful fall day as Cass made the short walk down the street to the Owens’ house. Leaves carpeted the sidewalk in bright orange and red splotches, and her neighbors nodded a greeting as she passed. They were busy erecting a bandstand in the middle of the street for the annual Halloween block party that night. Cass usually hung back from the party, enjoying the music and festivities from afar.

Feeling a little breathless, Cass stepped up to Tom’s gate, where neighbors were lined up, waiting for a chance to make their selection from the pumpkin patch. There had been an Owens living on this property for the last hundred years, and when Tom had inherited the house from his parents, who moved to Florida, he’d kept up the family nursery business and the pumpkin patch, which both brought visitors from miles around. In one corner of the massive lot, next to the greenhouse, Tom’s special prize-winning patch was roped off from the rest, the beautiful gourds nurtured with passionate attention to detail. Cass shivered at the thought of Tom running his hands over the smooth orange surfaces with the tenderness of a lover.

“Cass!”

She pulled herself together as Tom stepped forward. He was tall and broad, and as always, Cass had to force herself not to take a step backward when he approached.
Or a step closer.
His beautiful green eyes were alive with warmth, his brown hair tousled by the chill bluster that swept along the block, skidding leaves down the street. Cass could feel the sparks running along her nerve endings and tried to ignore them. So what if the guy was warm and funny and intelligent, and filled out a pair of jeans in a way that was almost criminal? Relationships with mortals were a bad idea, and relationships with her own kind were always doomed from the start – warlocks apparently didn’t want a girlfriend who exhibited all the magical prowess of a turnip. It wouldn’t be an issue from now on, but the past snobbery left a bad taste in her mouth. And standing in front of her was everything she couldn’t have.

And he can have any woman he wants
, she reminded herself. Why the gorgeous man didn’t have a girlfriend was a mystery. He was straight. He was available. Every unattached woman and bored housewife in the neighborhood went out of their way to try and snag his attention. Especially Viola Perkins, recently divorced for the third time and aggressive in a way Cass could never envision being herself. And she couldn’t keep his hands off of him.

That bitch.
Cass couldn’t even bring herself to feel guilty for the observation.

Tom touched her arm in greeting.

“Hi.” She almost sounded normal, as though the innocent press of his hand to her skin didn’t make her meltingly hot.

“Did you come to pick out a pumpkin?” He grinned.

“I just wanted to make sure it was still okay to bring the kids by on Monday.”

“Of course. They can have as many as they want. I’ll save your class the good ones.” He winked at her, and she blushed.

“It’s so nice of you to do this every year.”

“Who am I to mess with tradition? My great-grandfather gave out pumpkins once upon a time. It makes the kids happy and it’s good for business.”

Cass took in the long line of contented customers, many of whom pocketed a business card for the nursery on their way out.

“I can see that.”

“Besides, the temperature’s dropping. If I don’t give them away, the cold will get ‘em. Harvest Festival is in a couple of weeks, and I’m hoping the weather holds out. I think I’ve got some winners this year.”

Cass smiled at the glee in his voice. Tom’s love for his prized pumpkins was well known.  She glanced at the beautiful orange monsters in the corner of the lot.

“They’re beautiful. I’m sure you’ll win.”

“Thanks.”

The warmth in his smile sent a rush of heat and magic through her body, as an extra-strong surge of magical wind kicked up. Behind them, the party organizers lunged at tarps and flyers, trying to keep everything held down.

Not now,
Cass groaned internally.

Her scarf whipped from her throat to smack Tom in the face. He clawed away a mouthful of wool, chuckling, and settled the rebellious material back around her neck.

Cass froze, every inch of skin tingling when he didn’t stop there. He lingered, tucking the scarf in, tugging a lock of hair from its grip. The sensation of his warm fingers against her throat invoked a hard pulse of arousal in her pussy, and her heart raced as power welled up, eager to be let loose.

“I have to go.” She stepped back.

Tom let his hands drop, frowning.

“Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.  Just – I have a ton of things to do today.”

“Are you coming to the party tonight?”

Cass hesitated. That was probably a bad idea. But –

“Maybe.”

Tom grinned.

“Great. Save me a dance.”

Now I really have to get out of here.
The thought of being held close against Tom under a glorious autumn moon, sharing his heat, breathing him in, was too much. She was either going to combust or set something on fire.

With a slightly panicked smile, Cass fled.

TOM WATCHED CASS WALK away, that perfect ass molded by soft blue velvet that offered flirty glimpses of her thighs as she walked, the black leather boots making her legs look a mile long.

Those boots are going to kill me.

He was swamped by the thought of a naked Cass, her shapely calves encased in black leather, shyly cupping her sweet tits for him as she rode his cock, blushing as she held her nipple up to his mouth.

God, who knew shy could be so fucking hot?

When Cass had first moved in down the block five years ago, Tom had barely noticed. His parents had just left him the business and the house and settled in a comfortable condo in Florida, and he was too busy trying to keep his head above water to acknowledge the quiet little schoolteacher. He’d see her at the supermarket or on the street and nod a greeting. She had a horde of loud and eccentric family members that liked to drop in at all hours of the day and night, but in contrast, she was sweet and demure, and painfully shy around everyone except her students. Tom realized after a while that he was finding excuses to be outside when she walked by, straining to catch a glimpse of her or hear the gentle music of her laugh. She was smart and sweet and completely fascinating.

And then the dreams had started – heavy, erotic dreams that left him hard and aching for the feel of her delicate fingernails scoring down his back, the lash of her raven hair against his chest, and her sweet pussy baring its secrets, opening for him like a dusky, hothouse flower. He always woke aroused, drenched in sweat, and frustrated past his breaking point, his dick wrapped in a brutal grip. It was enough to drive a man insane.

Tom prided himself on being a patient man. He liked growing things, and growing things took time and care. And so he’d taken things slow, tried to make her comfortable, and took every little flicker of interest in her dark blue eyes like a fucking gold medal. He didn’t do casual relationships, and swatted off the neighborhood matchmakers with good humor and very little effort, channeling all of his focus into the goal – Cass in his life and in his bed.
Or the shower, the kitchen floor, the back of his truck…
He wasn’t picky.

She disappeared around the corner and Tom sighed, tugging the edges of his jacket down to hide the erection swelling behind the zipper of his jeans.

We can wait as long as it takes,
he reminded his unruly cock, regretting that he didn’t have time to disappear inside and jerk one out. The woman always left him hard as a fucking rock. And she didn’t even know it.
Shit.
That would have to change. Waiting for Cass was worth the effort, but maybe it was time to be a little more obvious. She’d been acting strangely the last couple of weeks, more jumpy than usual, and hiding in her house as much as possible. He was starting to worry that there might be someone else in the picture, and the thought of losing his chance with her had a hard knot of worry building in his gut. He squelched the image of Cass shyly peeling her dress down to bare those luscious breasts for some undeserving bastard, and determination filled him.

Not going to happen.

CASS STOOD IN FRONT of the closet, trying to decide what to wear. Outside, the sun had set and the neighborhood had turned up in full force for the block party. The sounds of music and laughter drifted into the room. It had been a good afternoon – not a single magical “episode,” and Cass was beginning to believe that her sisters were right. A little patience and practice would give her a handle on her powers and let her get back to her normal life, to some extent at least.