Trick or Orc

by S. J. Sanders

  I struggle to control my breathing so that I’m not panting with excitement, but to my embarrassment I can already feeling my panties wetting with a slick heat yet again. It’s an affliction that’s plagued me ever since I’ve seen him that morning when I arrived. Every time, I’ve sworn that I’ve seen him breathing in my scent… as if relishing it. I wait with bated breath to see if now, with the café closed and Lynn already gone, he will do something to claim me after my scent has been taunting him all day.

  My clit tingles as my imagination immediately swings into high gear—right into the gutter. Although short, his claws are still sharp enough to shred my clothes. The moment they’re gone, he would lift me up against the wall and pin me in place. I draw a shaky breath, my nipples tightening. Excitement courses through my blood as I’m caught between desiring that domination and fearing it.

  “Kassie,” he rumbles, his eyes slanting toward me. “How are you faring over there?”

  I swallow, my face burning at being caught at spinning fantasies that I suspect are one-sided. Curvy from a young age, having three kids, one of them a baby only recently, hasn’t done my body any favors. Here he is trying to hustle me out so he can go home, and I’m blushing over him like a teenager with her first crush.

  How humiliating.

  I manage a small laugh and scoop up the rag from the table that I’d scrubbed clean over five minutes ago despite the fact that I had continued to wipe in that same spot afterward while my mind wandered. Walking over to the laundry bin, I toss the rag inside.

  “I’m done,” I reply in a cheerful voice that’s so fake, pitched obnoxiously higher than my regular speaking voice, that it has me wincing with a fresh wave of shame. “I should be heading out of here any minute.”

  He nods. “That is good. You work fast.” His brow furrows slightly as he concentrates on his work. “It is a good day to be done early. The weather is fair. Do you plan to take advantage of it?”

  I turn my head just enough to stare at him in surprise. My cottage had been so chilly when I woke, as well as the air outside, that I had made sure to wear my jacket and scarf as I walked the short distance required to drop off the kids and make my way into work. In fact, all day, every time the door opened, I had felt the nippy draft that made me happy to retreat into the warmth of the kitchen.

  And he called this fair?

  I shake my head, the corners of my lips reluctantly tilting. Fair weather or foul, between my kids and Lynn, I doubted I would have a single free day where I wouldn’t be doing something. I let out a dry chuckle.

  “What I would like to do is soak for an hour or more in a hot bath with a book,” I admit. His brow lifts, and his eyes dart over to me with what almost appears to be interest. I ignore it to hurry on. “What I’ll actually be doing is walking through a pumpkin patch with my kids while they select this year’s jack-o’-lantern sacrifice.”

  He grins, his tusks prominent. “A sacrifice, is it?”

  My own smile widens gleefully. “What else would you call lobotomizing your victim and scooping them out to carve creepy grins into their flesh to establish a protective magical perimeter around your home?” I tease.

  Garval’s chuckle is deep and dark, like a decadent chocolate treat paired with a dark zinfandel wine. “A sacrifice in truth it is, then.” The corners of his eyes crinkle as he casts a warm look my way. “Your human ways are quite strange but entertaining. It is odd that your people find orcs so intimidating given your own practices.”

  It brings to mind an old meme that makes the rounds every year in which humans are described as space orcs, and I laugh at his observation.

  “Well, if it pertains to fighting, fucking, and retail therapy, it is definitely our love language,” I agree with a giggle.

  I immediately choke, my face flaming with embarrassment as I realize exactly what I just said to him. I let out a small mental groan. Why me?

  To my surprise, he turns around and leans back against the table behind him, his eyes alight with the intense gold flecks in their green depths as his eyes pass over me slowly lingering, if I’m not mistaken.

  “Is that a fact?” he purrs, a low rattling vibration following his words.

  My cheeks flame hotter.

  “Anyway, pumpkins,” I squeak hurriedly as I silently beg any merciful and benevolent deity listening to strike me dead right there on the spot. “It’s a long-standing tradition where I’m from. We have them out all month until the morning after Halloween, their smiling faces lit up like lamps scaring away all spooks that may be wandering about.”

  I wiggle my fingers at him playfully in an impression of some sort of ghoul and as I hoped, he laughs again, his smile broadening into a full, toothy grin.

  “I admit, I’ve been both curious and confused about your jack-o’-lanterns since first seeing images of them. I would enjoy experiencing this for myself.” His lashes lower, and I get a tight tingly sensation in my belly. “Perhaps you can instruct me personally—if you do not mind me joining in your family celebrations,” he adds quickly.

  I stare at him, feeling both excited and sick to my stomach all at once. Excitement is winning out, though, because Halloween is my favorite time of the year, and I can’t think of anything more exciting than to share my customs with someone unfamiliar with the holiday. I’m also flattered that I was asked when I’m sure that there are other people he could have turned to. The nausea is easy to explain too—he’s smoking hot, my co-worker, and still virtually a stranger to me, the latter of which hasn’t done anything to slow down my libido around him.

  I’m tempted to turn him down just so that I don’t have to endure the discomfort of having him smelling my arousal all night, since I know I have zero control over my body’s reaction to him. By the time the evening ended, I would be sitting with a swamp in my underwear. I should just make some excuse and that will be that.

  Instead, I hear myself agreeing.

  “Sure. I can’t think of anything more fun. And I know the kids will enjoy having more company participating.”

  His responding smile is slow and completely ruins what remains of my panties.

  Oh, boy. I’m done for.

  Chapter 8

  Garval

  My nose twitches with the sweet feminine scent surrounding me, overwhelming the clean smell of the youngling in my arms. I have Matty’s small body pressed securely against my chest to free up Kassie’s hands while she kneels to assist her daughter. The little female, Nora, is adorable with her obvious excitement. Even the older male youngling, Chris, wears an expression of glee as he describes to his sister just how exactly he plans to carve his pumpkin’s face. If it is meant to terrify her, he is way off his mark because the little female giggles, warming my lonely soul.

  I feel guilty enjoying this. I know that if their father—Kassie’s mate—were present, that he would rightfully challenge me for my obvious interest in his family. I can’t deny that I want them for my own. I am already beginning to covet each of them shamelessly. Orcs are extremely clannish and while the larger majority of warriors is comprised of males, mating and raising a strong, healthy brood is the desire of most. I’m no exception; I merely just lacked the perfect female. Now that I’ve found her, all of those instincts have come to the fore.

  Kassie talks quietly to her daughter, trying to convince her to choose another pumpkin from where they stand in the middle of the pumpkin patch, but the small female is having none of it. Nora has angled a large floppy plush rabbit under one arm, pinning it against her side as she tries to wrap her arms around a pumpkin just over half her size. The determined scowl on her face as she tried to wrestle it from where it sits on the packed earth makes me smile.

  “Nora, baby, there’s no way we’re going to be able to get this home, much less be able to carve it. It’s huge. I don’t even think my arms would be long enough to scoop out all of the seeds,” Kassie pleads. She points to another head-sized pumpkin already cut from the vine and sitting beside he
r knee where she is kneeling. “See, this one is perfect, just like Chris’s.”

  “But I want this one. I need a big pumpkin to scare away the big monsters here.” The little female’s face falls, her eyes brimming with tears. The words are on the tip of my tongue to reassure her that there are no big monsters that can get to her. I can’t bear the thought of her crying from her little heart breaking.

  “I will help,” I offer immediately.

  The child’s large blue eyes turn to me, her brow furrowing slightly as she gives me a skeptical look. “You’ll help? Really?”

  I find myself nodding quickly as I hand Matty over to his stunned mother and produce a knife from my belt. With one firm slash, the thick vine is severed, and I’m able to haul the pumpkin up onto my wide shoulder.

  “There, see. We’ll manage fine,” I assure with a wide grin that, in retrospect, I hope doesn’t terrify the little human.

  Slowly, shyly, she responds with a smile and a nod that sends her brown pigtails bobbing. Kassie’s smile is grateful as she mouths the words “thank you,” making me feel taller than a mountain. I feel like I have conquered some mighty foe, even better than when I helped our chieftain Orgath rescue his mate.

  My chest swells, and I adjust my grip on the pumpkin to make certain it won’t fall when I feel a tiny hand curl around my last two fingers. I glance down in surprise, meeting the shy, uncertain smile of the little female holding onto me. My fingers are thick enough that only the two of them can fit in her small hand, but in my mind it’s a perfect fit.

  Chris whistles at the sight of the pumpkin now that its fully visible on my shoulder instead of half-buried beneath the thick growth of leaves and vines.

  “That’s impressive, man,” he says with obvious delight.” He slaps his hands together, rubbing them as he turns to glance along the carefully maintained row within the pumpkin patch. “Okay, my turn.”

  “Nothing huge, Chris,” Kassie warns, her eyes narrowing on the male. “Garval has enough to carry with Nora’s selection. Whatever you pick out, you’re old enough that you’re going to be the one carrying it out yourself,” she threatens.

  “No problem, Mom!” he shouts as he turns on his heel to immediately start down the rough path in search of his own pumpkin, his head angled down to scan the selection.

  Rather than follow immediately behind him, Kassie hesitates and snuggles Matty closer as she glances over at me with concern.

  “I hope this doesn’t take long. Maybe you should put that down before you pull something or get a hernia,” she suggests gently, her cheeks already pink from the cool evening air darkening. “We can come back for it.”

  I don’t even bother to hold back the chuckle that bursts from within me. Her concern is sweet, but I’ve carried twice this weight or more in the chieftain’s band of warriors. I say as much and add that, for its size, the pumpkin is not as heavy as I expected it to be. Her brow knits, and for a moment she looks like she’s about to argue, but her eyes pause on the bulge of my bicep and whatever words she was about to say never make their way past her lips.

  Her eyes, instead, warm appreciatively, and her lips part, their color flushing a slightly darker hue with her desire. I can feel the tightening of my cock in my pants and swallow back a curse, grateful that my tunic will conceal the evidence from the youngling standing beside me until I can get it back under control. Diverting my mind to less erotic things, I turn to watch Chris as he jumps from one row to another. It certainly seems like he’s going to be at it a while when he suddenly stops and drops down.

  “I think I’ve found one!” he calls as he begins to push the tangle of vines out of his way.

  “All right, we’re coming,” Kassie shouts back to him as she picks her way carefully over the rows separating them.

  I take my place behind Kassie, keeping my position at the rear, Nora’s little hand still clasping mine as we make our way over to him. When I arrive, he looks up at me with a cheerful sort of hope on his youthful face. Excited, his eyes falling to the knife sheathed once more at my waist.

  “This is the one!” he says. “I swear it’s the exact size of a head. And look at is shape! I bet I can make it look like one side was smashed in with a club before he was decapitated.

  “Well, that’s ghoulish,” Kassie mumbles, and I chuckle despite myself.

  “Ah, he’s going to get along fine then with other orcs his age,” I reassure her, my fond smile falling on him.

  I have many fond memories of mock training battles and pretending all manner of things to be foes we’ve set upon.

  “Garval, can I borrow your knife?”

  “Wait, what?” Kassie jumps in, her eyes widening before I can answer the male. “Don’t you think you’re a bit young to hack at something with a knife?”

  The male groans and rolls his eyes, and though I agree with him because, in fact, he is of the age where he would begin weapons training with his father if he were an orc, I’m a smart enough male to know better than to naysay his mother.

  “Perhaps you should show the respect to ask your mother and show you have the sense of your peers to handle a knife,” I suggested in a tone that brooked no argument.

  Kassie looks over at me in surprise, but the grateful smile she gives me is humbling. I have decided well, it seems. It is clear that someone has trodden over her wishes more than once. If I am pretty certain that it is her mate, and I aim to have a few words exchanged with him when I see him. If he can’t care for her properly, I’m more than willing and able to do so in his place.

  Chris’s brows drew down for a moment and he gives the most put-upon sigh that every young orc has made at least once. To his credit, he nodded and glanced over at his mother.

  “Mom, please can I cut my pumpkin free myself? During afternoon training, we’ve been going over safety drills at Hearthstone. I know I can use it safely.”

  Kassie’s brows fly up, and she gapes at him and then me in a stunned silence. “They train… with weapons… at Hearthstone?”

  I nod slowly, not wishing to spook the female or have her set her mind against it when it is something important in our society.

  “All orcs, males and females both, learn weapon care and safety,” I explain in a calm voice. “Those interested in learning defensive and offensive fighting can enroll in courses for that come spring. This is part of orc life and culture, even if he never uses the skills in actual combat.” I give her a lopsided smile. “These days more skirmishes are for show and wounded pride, or in tournament matches. It is rare that we fight in earnest anymore.”

  Even less since our clans and those realms that are our nearest neighbors have enjoyed the influence and touch of humans moving back and forth among our territories. Tourism, a concept that is still fairly new for us, has bridged quite a few differences in recent years.

  Kassie shifts reluctantly in place, her eyes flicking with concern down at my blade.

  “It will be fine,” I assure her. “And if something happens, I’m here to see to it that any wounds are immediately cared for.”

  “When in Rome…” she mutters reluctantly. I’m not sure as to what that refers to, but from her nod at Chris and his excited expression I know that she has agreed.

  Carefully untangling my fingers from Nora’s grasp, I unbuckle and unsheathe my knife with one hand, handing it to him hilt first. He is nearly vibrating with excitement, but I’m relieved that his grip is firm and steady when he takes it from me and drops back down to his knees to complete his task.

  Unlike my single swipe, it takes him a few passes to cut through the thick vine connecting the gourd to the plant, but it eventually gives way and the male’s triumphant howl as he lifts up his pumpkin is one that makes me grin with pride as I accept my knife back from him. Even Kassie wears an amused expression, watching her offspring fondly.

  I slap a hand on his shoulder, taking care with the force of the blow delivered, and beam down at him.

  “That was well done,” I
praise. “Now pick up your slain foe, and let’s get these to your dwelling before the sun falls any further.”

  His nod is eager, and, without argument, he plucks up his pumpkin. He strains a little under its weight, but it’s not so much that he can’t find a good grip on it once he gets it up into his arms.

  It doesn’t take us long to load the pumpkins and humans into the wagon pulled by my delfass, Korf. Kassie still looks at him with apprehension as she skirts to the front of the wagon to take her seat, but the lumbering male just purrs at her, his spotted gray tail swishing lazily. She lets out a nervous laugh, and I’m glad to see that she is slowly becoming accustomed to his presence. When I picked her family up, she had stared at him in horror up until the moment I got him moving. I’m still not entirely sure how she expected to get to the pumpkin patch or get the gourds home without a giant delfass pulling the weight, but it is something I wisely don’t comment on.

  Sure enough, although she grips the side of the wagon firmly, she relaxes the moment the wagon lurches forward. She is at ease sooner this time, I’m certain, and unlike our trip to the pumpkin patch, she’s not staring at Korf’s back but rather is enjoying the passing scenery resplendent with brilliant autumnal hues. In the back, I can hear the younglings chattering, but as much as I long to speak to the female beside me, I hold my tongue and remind myself of my place as I drive them the rest of the way to their cottage.

  From the back, Chris breaks the silence between us.

  “We’re having the carving party tonight when we get home, right? I want to get started on this guy right away.”

  Kassie’s eyes fall on me, her expression unreadable, before they drift back toward the male behind us. “I suppose that’s okay… if Garval doesn’t mind.” She focuses on me once more, her lips tilting upward. “Since you’ve dubbed yourself Nora’s champion over that enormous thing, I expect you plan to join us?”