Something Wicked

by Sterling, Jillian

  He began shampooing his hair, thinking of how cute Izzy looked in her too-big jeans, held up by a ridiculous scarf. Her milky white skin tempted him, begging him to run his tongue along the nape of her neck and along the cleavage that peaked out of her tank top. Keeping himself in check around her was becoming exceedingly difficult.

  He was here to do a job, and she was turning into a first rate distraction.

  He ran his soapy hands along his body, sudsing himself up. Izzy wasn't as skilled as her Grandmother, and she was spelling out of her comfort zone. Since he didn't want to let on that he was sent here by his coven, there was only so much he could do to help her out. Of course, he didn't expect the sorority girls to stick around after her Grandmother passed away. Like an idiot, he assumed they wouldn't bother coming around with Izzy in charge. While she didn't have the commanding presence of the matriarch, she did carry noticeable power for a novice witch. It almost flowed off her skin, like she was electrified.

  Finn thought of her soft skin and wondered if sparks would leap from his fingers if he touched it.

  With Izzy capturing his thoughts, his hands worked their way down his muscled abdominals, inching lower and lower. He brushed against his cock, now at full mast as he thought about unknotting that ridiculous scarf that held up her pants, imagining her in full commando when the worn denim hit the ground.

  Almost absently, he stroked himself, unsure if he really had time for this. Between his job, taking classes part time, and keeping Izzy from blowing up the joint with her novice potion work, he was perpetually exhausted, always short on time, and even shorter with temper. Maybe he needed to relieve some more tension, he reasoned, squeezing his hard shaft firmly, moving his hand in a slow, rhythmic motion. Hot water cascaded over him and he groaned as the pleasure built. Moving his hand up and down faster, his breath quickened while his Izzy fantasy heated up.

  The pipes clanged out a warning, but Finn was too lost in pleasure to notice it until it was too late. Scalding-hot water spewed out of the showerhead, and his erotic thoughts about Izzy disintegrated. She flushed the damn toilet.

  From the tiny window over the tub, he caught sight of her rushing to her car.

  "Isadora!" he shouted, flinging open the window.

  Instead of stopping, she dove into her Bronco. Finn heard the engine struggle a bit before turning over. She gave him a half-assed wave as she peeled out of the driveway.

  His cock withered at the shock of the hot water. At the same time, his frustration rose.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "I love it when you're on your knees for me, baby," Danny teased, stopping abruptly as he walked past the open bathroom. He leaned suggestively against the doorframe, his pelvis jutting forward, and winked at me.

  My face flamed red but I ignored him and continued scrubbing the shower floor.

  "You aren't supposed to be in here," Johnny retorted, flushing the toilet he just swished.

  "What are you going to do?" Danny snickered. "Beat me up with a toilet brush."

  "Maybe I will," Johnny sputtered, flicking the sopping brush toward Danny, spattering toilet water all over his Abercrombie t-shirt. Only assholes wore Abercrombie.

  "You punk-ass little shit!" Danny lunged for Johnny, who smartly scurried out of the Frat boy's reach. "Want me to report you to Mr. Masters? That'll wipe that smirk off your face."

  Johnny's face dimmed at the prospect of losing his job. He glanced at me nervously.

  "Speaking of Masters," I said, standing up to my full 5'6" height. Not Amazonian, but slightly taller than Johnny. "Maybe it's time to tell him about the harassment I put up with from the brothers in this house since taking this job."

  "What harassment?" he challenged. "I didn't do anything."

  "I didn't say you did. But your brothers? Some of them love to play fast and lose with behavior that could get your frat booted off campus," I warned, peeling the green latex gloves off my hands. "So I suggest you leave us both alone, and let us do our jobs."

  He looked me up and down slowly, and it was all I could do to not flinch as his eyes uncomfortably followed every curve of my body. That was exactly the behavior I was talking about, but some of them verbalized it.

  Boldly, I decided to return the favor, giving him the once over. Lean and lanky, wearing a pair of jeans that easily cost two week's of my cleaning salary, his nose was slightly hooked, like it had been broken once of twice. His sandy blond hair was overgrown and shaggy. Not bad looking, but he oozed entitled prick.

  The longer I stared at him, the more he fidgeted. "Doesn't feel great when you're caught in a critical gaze, does it?"

  "You wouldn't dare," he sniffed at us before stalking out of the loo.

  "Yeah, what's the point, Iz?" Johnny added loudly. "They only believe the wealthy students anyway. Even if their family got rich by ripping off poor people."

  Danny turned, his face clouded over. He made a step towards Johnny, his nostrils flaring. When Johnny balled up his fists, I jumped between them.

  "Walk away, Danny," I warned. "You graduated in May, you aren't even supposed to be here. If there's trouble, the cops can't treat you like a student. Your father's money can't make that go away."

  Danny Stevenson's dad was the area's local loan shark, specializing in all sorts of predatory loans. Payday loans, car title loans, anything that forced desperate people to sell themselves into indentured servitude. Willimantic, the small town next door to the university, was a mix of college kids living off campus, and townies, like me. Most of us townies were in pretty dire straights. His dad loved us.

  But he was a pillar of the community. Go figure.

  Danny considered what I said, his posture drooping slightly. "It was a low blow."

  I shrugged. "There's some truth there."

  He scowled but said nothing, instead turning on his heel and stalking out of the bathroom.

  "Rich people, right, Iz?" Johnny smirked, watching Danny walk away.

  "Right, Johnny," I sighed, digging the glass cleaner out of my caddy to wipe down the mirrors.

  "That was pretty awesome, though," he said. "Sticking up for me like that. I didn't think you had it in you."

  "Yeah, I didn't think I had it in me either," I replied, puffing up a bit with pride. It felt good to be assertive. Maybe I'd do it again sometime.

  Johnny pulled out the mop and started on the floors while I spritzed a mirror. We usually played music from his iPod and a portable speaker, but one of the Fratholes bitched about the noise to Mr. Masters, so that was the end of that. I guess we could use headphones, but then we wouldn't be able to talk to each other. Talking made the shit work (pun intended) more fun.

  "Sucks we have to put up with their crap, Iz," Johnny said, swirling the mop around on the dingy tile. "I mean, we could talk to Masters about it. Think he'd back us up?"

  "I need this job, Johnny," I sighed, feeling cold air on my stomach when my shirt lifted up as I stretched to reach the top of the glass. "The shop just isn't pulling in enough money without Grams. I can't take that risk."

  "Your Grams wasn't pulling in enough money at the shop either. That's why she took the job as house mother in Tara's sorority," he reminded me.

  "But that was to pay for my tuition," I explained. "If she wasn't so worried about me, she'd have been home free."

  He wrinkled his nose at me. "Really?"

  "Well, if she didn't have me. Or my mom." I wiped violently at a streak in the mirror, trying to push thoughts of my mother out of my head.

  "Did she ever at least get a lead?" Johnny asked.

  "Nope," I said through gritted teeth. I wasn't in the mood to talk about my deadbeat mom, who ran off to California to join some weirdo cult. Grams put a second mortgage on the house to pay for a private detective to track her down and get her to come home. All we had to show for it was a lean on the house and my Grams' broken heart. I'm pretty sure it's what killed her.

  "She tried, right?" Johnny said, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Yo
u both did."

  "I guess," I shrugged, not wanted to talk about it.

  "So, are we going to tell Masters?" Johnny asked, smartly changing the subject.

  "No," I responded, not exactly happy with myself. "I need this job."

  "Even if it means you have to eat shit?"

  I tossed the used paper towels into the trash bin. "Even if."

  Johnny mopped in silence while I got busy with the rest of the mirrors that lined the wall of sinks. Even though we worked quickly, I could see the sunlight fading through the bathroom's frosted windows. I was supposed to meet Amanda at Bidwell Tavern for Wednesday night wings. Didn't look like I'd make it, especially since I didn't want to stay out late. Between keeping The Witchery's doors open, the cleaning job to pay the two mortgages, and the few classes I cobbled together for the semester, I needed to wake up at the crack of dawn to get everything ticked off my to-do list.

  Johnny's voice interrupted my thoughts about beer and wings and to-do lists. "Hey, so, if you need extra cash, maybe you want to do me a favor?"

  "Depends," I said casually, hoping to mask my excitement. Truthfully, if it had money attached, I was very interested.

  "You know I clean the classrooms and class buildings too, right?"

  I nodded.

  "Well, I'm scheduled for an overnight tomorrow night, and I kind of have a date."

  I raised my eyebrow at this. "You have a date?" He looked offended. "All I mean is that you're holding out on me!"

  "Not really," he said quickly. "I mean, yeah, maybe a little. But it's not a date-date."

  "Dude, a date is a date," I snickered at him.

  "Well, I mean, we're just..."

  "Oh, no," I stared at him in the mirror. "Please don't tell me you're..."

  "What?"

  "You are, aren't you?"

  "What?"

  I sighed and turned to face him, paper towel stuffed hands on my hips.

  "Okay, yes," he said, flustered. "I am taking her to Gamers Gambit."

  "You really think that's a good idea?" I challenged.

  Gamers Gambit and Dragon Den was some serious nerdcore. Johnny was going to force his date to play Dungeons and Dragons. His nerdy gamer pals were probably tagging along.

  "So? Will you cover for me?" He looked at me hopefully, his large eyes like dark moons, taking over his face.

  Johnny was kind of cute, in a rumpled sort of way. Although he was in desperate need of a good night's sleep, a haircut, and a few good meals.

  "You really think you won't be back in time for your shift?" I chewed uncomfortably on my lip. If he was taking her to Gamers Gambit, there was a very good chance that he'd be freed up pretty quickly to make it to work in time.

  "Trust me," he said. "I'm taking her to dinner first."

  "Not Taco Bell, right?"

  "No, smart ass," he replied, wagging his middle finger at me. "I'm taking her to Elmer's Diner. The earliest we'll get to the Gambit is 9 PM."

  I considered it. The Gambit was in Danbury, and that was a bit of a haul. Even if she fled screaming from the gaming store, it would take them some time to get back to campus.

  "Yes," I said, turning back to finish the mirrors. "What're the details?"

  "I'm in the English building tomorrow night, so just show up there. But I have to warn you, the work is more demanding than the Greek houses. It's the real commercial cleaning."

  "I can handle it." I said confidently.

  "You'll have to use the buffing machine," he warned. "That thing feels like a zillion pounds."

  "I can handle it," I repeated, silently thinking that if his skinny ass could manage the floor buffer, I sure as hell could. "What time do I show up?"

  "10 PM," he said. "And sharp. Masters' night supervisor is a hardass."

  "When am I ever late?" I sighed, silently ruing my promptness.

  Many young women find their way into The Craft through their disaffection, so they are generally sullen and rebellious. And punctuality challenged. For a witch, I was not even close to being a badass. I was always on time. Usually, I was early.

  "There's always a first time. Thanks so much for doing this." He added.

  "Hey, I wouldn't want to stand in the way of love." I put the final swipe on the mirror. "But maybe you should rethink the Gamers Gambit. Not exactly the gateway to romance."

  "Don't you worry about me," he grinned mischievously. "It's where we met."

  "Ah ha!" I shrieked, throwing the paper towel at him. "You were holding out on me!"

  He caught the balled up towel and tossed it back at me. "Not really, I swear. We met last weekend and ended up in game chatting while we played Gears of War all week. So, you know..."

  "She likes to game," I finished for him. "That's cool, Johnny. I am really happy for you."

  "So..." he hedged.

  "Don't ask me about my love life, please," I packed up my cleaning supplies into the caddy. "I am too busy to even think about it."

  "Not what I was going to ask about," he said slowly. "But was kind of wondering if maybe, you know, I needed a...you know, a potion."

  I sighed and gave him a weak smile. "Just be yourself, sweetie. I don't think you require any potion. She'll adore you without it."

  He almost looked relieved. "Really?"

  "Yes, really," I said, my smile broadening to match his. "Ready to tackle the common room?"

  "Yeah, I think so," he said.

  When we exited the bathroom, both of us were grinning like fools. Running smack into Danny just outside the door, however, wiped the smiles off both of our faces.

  "Hey," he said, doing this sort of awkward rubbing together of his hands. "Can I talk to you a sec?"

  "Go ahead, Johnny," I nodded. "I'll catch up with you in a minute." Danny watched Johnny disappear down the staircase, before eyeing me nervously.

  “What is it?" I asked, my patience wearing thin. "I am on the clock here."

  "I just was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime." He kept his voice low, like we were in on some big conspiracy, not at all like he was asking me on a date.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and blew my bangs out of my eyes. "Is this a joke? Some sort of weird Candid Camera prank?"

  "No joke," he said quickly. "I just thought maybe we could grab a beer, hang out. Get to know each other better."

  There was no noise in the house, which heightened my suspicion further. Damned if I'd be on the ass end of a stupid frat prank.

  "Do you think I'm an idiot?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice from shaking as a mix of rage and hurt built inside me. "I know what you are doing. Let's punk the cleaning lady. It'll be hilarious."

  "You think that's what this is about?" he asked. His shocked expression was almost believable.

  "Of course that's what this is about," I seethed, my frustration coming to a head. "People like me, and Johnny? We're all one big joke to you. I've watched Carrie. Numerous times."

  "Whoa!" he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not talking pig's blood here. Just, I don't know, I thought maybe if we got to know each other..."

  "You've never once showed any interest in hanging out," my voice was flat.

  "I just, I don't know," he said. "I think you're cute, and figured it was maybe time to act on it."

  "Do you even know my name?"

  I let the uncomfortable silence fester for a minute.

  "Look I got to get back to work," I said, the hallway suddenly feeling claustrophobic. "Thanks for the offer, but it's just not going to work out."

  With that declaration, I slipped past him and speed walked down the hallway. In my haste to get away from him, I practically fell down the stairs. When I was safely out of sight, I raised my arm to my nose scented myself, from wrist to elbow. A faint note of lavender—barely perceptible—hit my nose.

  The damn love potion. I really hoped I wasn't dosed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I bolted upright at 3 AM, woken by the sound of shattered glass and a
heavy thud coming from the living room. My eyes barely open, I stumbled down the hallway, nearly colliding into Amanda, who waited cautiously at the top of the stairs.

  "What was that?" I whispered.

  She shook her head. "Maybe one of Finn's conquests is coming for her revenge."

  "Or maybe it's a rapist," I responded, my knees began to shake. I was in a tank top and underwear. Easy access.

  "Please, Iz," Amanda muttered. "I bet it's because of Finn. You can't love-and-leave that many girls without at least one of them exacting revenge."

  "Too bad he's not home to catch the brunt of it," I whispered. "What do we do?"

  She shrugged. "We go see if it's a jilted girl. Or a rapist.

  I reluctantly followed her down the stairs, keeping my body against the wall as if it could offer protection.

  When we reached the bottom, Amanda raised her finger to her lips to indicate silence, and then pointed to the poker leaning next to the fireplace. I crept towards it, tensing at each creak my shifting weight made on the old hardwood floor, and picked it up. The heft of the iron made me feel slightly better. Amanda motioned for me to stand opposite her on the other side of the door. When she touched the doorknob, I heaved the heavy bar over my head, adrenaline clearly turning me into Super Woman.

  I barely made out Amanda's silent countdown, her lips catching the moonlight just enough for me to see her mouthing "3, 2, 1." She swung the door open and I jumped in front with a primal shriek, poker at the ready. Instead of a burly intruder, I was face-to-tear-stained-face with Tara. Her usually perfect hair was wild and her clothing disheveled. She reeked of beer.

  Tara turned her flushed face towards me and marched into the house, clearly not phased by the iron poker still raised above my head. Her pointer finger was poking at the air furiously. "You. Said. He'd. Love. Me!"

  I stared at her blankly, relaxing my arms back to my sides, but not releasing the poker. "What are you talking about?"