by Lily Rede
She was stiff in his arms, uncertain, holding herself away, her eyes on the neighbors that watched with unabashed interest.
“One dance, Cass. That’s all,” Tom coaxed, arousal dropping his voice to a deep rumble.
Her eyes flickering up to his, she nodded abruptly and cautiously let herself relax into his hold, her hands gripping his shoulders.
Heaven. He nearly groaned at the feeling of her pressed against him, soft and hot, the sweet curve of her waist incredible under his hands as they gently swayed to the music.
“Put your arms around my neck.” He felt like a king when her slender arms hesitantly crept up to do as he asked, and the new position pulled them even closer together, her breasts pressed against him, her hot breath gusting against the hollow of his throat.
Tom knew the moment she registered his swollen cock nudging against her stomach through his jeans. She stiffened, and her startled gaze flew up to his. Crap.
He quirked a wry smile.
“Ignore that. He has a mind of own. Sorry. “
He started to pull back, but suddenly, she surprised him by tightening her arms around his neck and pressing herself even closer. Their breaths mingled in the cold night air.
“Cass—”
“Shhh…”
And she floored him again with the lightest tentative brush of her lips against his before she buried her face in his jacket.
And so they swayed on the edge of the dark, pressed as tightly together as their clothes would allow, Tom’s mouth against her hair, stroking the small of her back where her sweater rode up, his cock cuddled against her softness like it belonged there.
Tom was caught up in the music, the moment, and the spicy scent of Cass that enveloped them. She smelled like apples and cinnamon, welcoming and exotic at the same time. He would happily drown in her scent, and his mouth watered, wondering if she tasted as good as she smelled.
He dragged his eyes open as the song began to wind down, and frowned.
“Huh. That’s weird.”
CASS DRIFTED IN a sensual fog, reluctant to leave her comfortable position against the hard plane of Tom’s chest. She felt a little drunk, glowy and sparkly from the inside out, her nerve endings overloading on sensation and the still unfamiliar rush of magic in her blood. She couldn’t believe she’d been brave enough to ever get this close to Tom. To kiss him. Now she had firsthand knowledge of how good all those delicious muscles felt crushed against her breasts, the heat of his body, and the clean smell of his soap mixed with something uniquely his, and all she wanted was more and more and more.
And his cock, large and thick under the denim of his jeans. Hard. For her. That was a mindboggling revelation in and of itself. She’d yielded to impulse and the results were surprisingly wonderful. Cass wasn’t sure what to do with all the new sensory information, but a greedy inner voice suggested she examine it more closely. Preferably when both of them were naked.
Cass forced herself to focus.
“What’s weird?”
“The air. It’s…sparkling.”
Cass’ eyes flew open.
The music had stopped, and the puzzled neighbors murmured to each other in wonder as sparkle trails playfully swirled around, whipping through hair and curling around the bemused partygoers. The fiddler futilely swatted at one swirl with his bow and the children jumped up and down, trying to catch the glowing sparks.
“It’s not fireflies – what is that?”
“Pollen or something.” Cass tried to shrug it off, dying inside.
“It doesn’t look like pollen. It looks like…I don’t know, pixie dust?”
“Probably just some teens playing a prank.”
Apparently Cass’ grip on her powers still needed some work. She groaned and pulled away from Tom, chastising herself for her lack of self-control.
You can’t even handle five minutes of human contact, she scolded herself. Granted, those five minutes were spent pressed up against Tom Owens’ warm, hard, tempting form. Witch or not, no red-blooded female could be faulted for a lapse in self-control under those circumstances. The man had her hot and aching with no more than a smile and the caress of his fingers against the small of her back.
An answering sparkly swirl stroked the curve of his jaw and Tom jerked back, unnerved.
Cass scowled at the happy sparkle trail. She was pathetic.
“I have to go.”
“Wait, don’t – ”
“I’ve got things to do.”
As she turned to go, Viola plowed through the crowd and launched herself into Tom’s arms.
“Oh Tom, what is it? Do you think it’s dangerous?”
Cass tamped down on the urge to gag as the voluptuous bitch cuddled close, her breasts spilling out of a tight top. She took some solace in the fact that Tom didn’t put an arm around her, but only patted her shoulder soothingly. Still, it was only a matter of time before Viola wore him down. He was a guy and therefore not immune to breasts, and Viola was clearly unafraid to go after what she wanted. Plus, there was no chance that she would accidentally transform him into something unsavory.
The thought of the two of them entwined brought a wave of depression that had one positive result – the joyous sparks swirled one last time, and then twinkled out of existence, leaving the neighbors even more baffled than before.
Cass breathed a sigh of relief.
After some confused chatter, the music started up again, and Viola immediately wrapped Tom’s arms around her.
“You owe me a dance, Mister.”
Cass rolled her eyes and hurried away, ignoring Tom’s “Wait, Cass – ”
She headed back down the street toward her house, which suddenly looked very lonely in the dark at the end of the block.
Cass shivered, feeling dejected.
It was going to be a long, cold night.
TOM STARED AT his prized pumpkins in the weak morning light. It didn’t look good. The pumpkins were his pride and joy, his own crafted vines, lovingly tended for months in preparation for competition at the festival. They were round and orange and monstrous, just as they should be, but the sharp bite of cold that swooped in overnight threatened to undo all his hard work. Grim, he started tucking blankets around his babies, the best he could do at the moment.
It had been a rough night. After Cass had fled, Tom had spent fifteen minutes trying to dodge Viola’s clutches. The woman was like an octopus. Then, he’d hurried over to Cass’ house and spent another ten minutes knocking on the door, coaxing her to talk to him, to no avail. Confused and wondering what he’d done to spook her, Tom had given up and headed home, only to have his sleep ruined by dreams of Cass, a hundred times worse now that he’d gotten close enough to touch her, to breathe in her cinnamon scent. The vivid vision of taking her from behind, her ass titled to take his thrusts, the softness of her hair in one tight fist, and her cries of pleasure as he fucked her slow and deep had him waking with a shout, his climax rushing out to coat his abdomen and chest.
So much for sleep. At dawn, Tom had given up on any pretense and bundled up to check on his prized gourds, dismayed at the impending disaster and the icicles hanging from the roof. It wasn’t supposed to be this cold in October. Ever. Steeling himself against an icy blast of wind, Tom reached for another blanket.
“Tom?”
The gentle voice sent a lick of heat up his spine, and he straightened to see Cass surrounded by a throng of eight-year-olds. The relief and frustration that swamped him in equal measure left him dizzy. He stomped across the pumpkin patch, eyes narrowing as she took an involuntary step back.
“You said it was okay to bring the kids by to pick out their pumpkins?”
“Sure.” He couldn’t help the gruffness in his voice. She was tying him in knots whether she meant to or not, and it took everything in his power not to reach for her.
Relief flickered across her face.
“Alright kids, go choose your pumpkin. Carefully.”
Squeals of
delight filled the cold air as the kids scampered off in search of the perfect gourd.
Cass still hadn’t looked him in the face. Tom tugged off a glove and tucked a knuckle underneath her chin, tilting her eyes up to his, savoring her quick intake of breath.
“You ran off last night.”
“I was cold.”
“You should have stuck around. I could have warmed you up.”
“You looked a little busy with Viola.”
Tom stroked her cheek. Soft as silk under the pads of his fingers.
“She’s not my type.”
Her tiny smile was like a wicked stroke along the length of his dick.
“No?”
“No.”
Knowing he was taking a chance, he twined a loose lock of her hair around his finger and tugged gently. It felt like a ribbon of silk, and Cass’ eyes were wide as she looked up at him, apparently struggling with some internal debate.
“Tea,” she blurted out.
“What?”
“Maybe you’d like to come over for…tea? Tomorrow after school?”
Cass twisted the ends of her scarf with tight fingers.
Tom knew he was grinning from ear to ear like a complete idiot, but he couldn’t help it. He was just grateful for the presence of the children running around the pumpkin patch. If they had been alone, he would have pushed her up against the side of the house and kissed the hell out of her, damn the consequences.
“It’s a date.”
The cold wind swirled around them and Cass shivered. Tom rubbed her arms.
“Let’s get your pumpkins together. I’ve got to get the patch tucked in before the ice gets to them. I’ve never seen cold like this before.”
Cass glanced over at his prize pumpkins, tucked up like blanket-wrapped orange beach balls.
“I’m sure it’s just a fluke.”
“Yeah, well. That fluke is going to destroy my chance at a blue ribbon at the Harvest Festival.” He couldn’t quite keep the frustration out of his voice, but the gentle press of her fingers against his went a long way toward soothing him. Despite the cold, despite the pumpkins, the prospect of a date with the delectable schoolteacher had just made his day.
WHAT A DISASTER. Cass pored over the musty old tome, looking for something, anything that could help her. She knew she was responsible for the fast-encroaching Ice Age that enveloped the neighborhood, brought on by stress and anger and frustration after walking away from the dance floor last night, and despite being flooded with warmth over the prospect of a date with Tom, oh God, the cold just wouldn’t go away.
A panicked call to her oldest sister Ivy had proved pointless. Shouting over the raucous party behind her, she had advised Cass to relax and get laid. Twenty minutes of sisterly bickering, and Cass had finally gotten Ivy to grudgingly admit that there might be a spell to counteract the condition somewhere in her old schoolbooks, currently taking up space in Cass’ attic, along with all the other junk the sisters dumped on her at regular intervals. It was convenient having a sister with a house.
“You’re making such a big deal out of this, Cass. Your magic is an extension of you. You chill out and – hey, that was funny! Seriously, sis. Forget the incantations and spells and just go out, have a drink, and wrap your hands around a nice, big, throbbing –”
Cass hung up on her.
Long hours later, Cass was shivering on a low stool in the attic, wishing her flannel nightshirt was warmer, reading through yet another spell book, her anxiety mounting. What if I can’t make it stop and the whole town stays in deep freeze forever? I can’t really date a mortal, can I? What if Tom finds out what I am? What if he finds out that I killed his pumpkins? What if he doesn’t like how I look naked?
It was a lot for a girl to consider, and Cass was a little desperate as she tossed away the book in her lap and reached for another one. Please, please, please. She wrenched it open and – there it was.
“A spell to build heat, to drive away the cold, and to swell with all the warmth of passionate intent. Close enough.”
Even if it was only temporary, it might stave off the icy blast long enough to save Tom’s pumpkins. Her sisters would be home in a few days and they would step in and handle the situation in two seconds flat. She’d never hear the end of it, but it was the best she could do. Cass scanned the spell – a simple incantation, a rune drawn in the dirt under a full moon, and presto. She glanced at her watch – almost midnight. Ripping the page out of the book, she flew down the stairs, sliding her feet into the closest available footwear, a pair of fuzzy boots. Throwing her coat over her flannel nightshirt, she hurried outside.
The neighborhood was asleep, bundled securely inside their warm houses. Frost glittered on every surface, and trees and plants were rigid with ice. Holding her coat close and clenching her teeth against the cold, Cass regretted not stopping to put on real clothes, but dismissed it and swiftly headed toward Tom’s property, which was as dark and silent as the rest of the houses on the block.
Here we go.
Cass let herself into the pumpkin patch and carefully made her way across to the special crop in the corner. The lot was crystalline with frost, and only the panes of the greenhouse were fogged over as the heat inside held back the cold. Cass pulled back the blankets carefully tucked around the gourds and puffed out a sigh of relief – not good, but not completely frozen yet.
She grabbed a nearby stick and knelt to trace the rune into the dirt, not an easy feat as the ground was rock solid. When she’d managed to carve it an inch deep, she tossed the stick away, brushed her hair out of her eyes, and reached for the incantation.
“Calidum magicae relegant frigus…”
It was long and intricate, and Cass stumbled on a few words. She’d never bothered taking sorcery classes with her sisters – what would be the point? Finished, she stood back and anxiously regarded the pumpkins. For a long moment nothing happened.
Come on, come on.
Suddenly, a spark appeared, small and bright and winking in the cold night air. Then another, and another, until the pumpkin patch glittered with hot little glowing sparks, lighting up the night as they bounced off the pumpkins and into each other. Cass felt a wave of relief as swirls of warmth rushed around her ankles and teased through her hair. It was going to be okay.
Or not.
The rumbling started low, and then grew. And so did the pumpkins.
“Oh no – stop – ”
Cass could only watch in horror as Tom’s dozen prized gourds swelled and sprouted, growing bigger than any pumpkins should, overtaking the fence and the ground, massive and pulsing with heat and magic. When they towered ten feet tall, they stopped.
Cass could only gape.
What have I done?
She scanned the incantation, desperate.
“Isn’t there an undo or something?”
She waved her hands. Nothing.
Cass put a hand out to touch the smooth orange flesh and nearly swooned as sensation rushed through her. Not only were they seductively warm to the touch, but they emanated waves of pure, unadulterated lust. Cass felt her pussy go damp as arousal coursed through her body, tightening her nipples and ripping a soft moan from her throat.
“A spell to swell with all the warmth of passionate intent.”
With a sinking feeling, she knew exactly what had happened. Her out-of-control magic had warmed things up in more ways than one, taking the spell a step farther, banishing the cold and filling the gourds with all of her unfulfilled passion for Tom.
The result? Giant sex pumpkins.
This couldn’t get any worse.
“Oh my God!”
Okay, now it was worse.
Tom raced out the back door, pulling on a shirt he didn’t bother to close. He wouldn’t be cold – the air in the garden was now sticky sweet with magic, warm and sultry. Cass’ lust-addled brain went blank for a moment at the sight of his hard muscled chest, the ridged torso, and the dusting of brown hair under h
is navel. Yum.
“Cass, get back!”
He hurried forward and pulled her away from the monster pumpkins, eyes wide and fearful.
“What happened? How did this happen?”
“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.” Worse than just turned on, now she was now turned on and humiliated, and the only way out was to come clean. Her family would be so disappointed.
Tom rubbed her arms.
“How could this possibly be your fault? This is – something in the pesticides…” His voice trailed off. It sounded ludicrous even as he said it.
Cass took a deep breath and braced herself.
“The cold is my fault. And it was killing your pumpkins. So I decided to try and…heat them up…until I could get rid of the ice.”
“You’re not making any sense, Cass.”
“I’m a witch.”
TOM STARED AT Cass, at a complete loss. He’d gone to bed an hour ago, tense with stress over the pumpkins, only to be awakened by the rumbling from the patch outside. Whatever he’d expected to see, ten-foot pumpkins pulsing with…magic…was not it. He didn’t believe in magic. He didn’t believe in witches. But here was Cass, wearing a flannel nightshirt, a light coat, and snow boots, standing in his pumpkin patch in the middle of the night, telling him –
“What exactly are you saying?”
“Witches, magic, warlocks, things that go bump in the night. All real. My family…” She waved a hand impatiently, and a shower of sparks shot from her fingers.
Tom jumped back so quickly he stumbled, crashing to the ground and scuttling back when Cass hurried forward to give him a hand.
She couldn’t hide the hurt in her eyes, but let him be, wrapping her arms around her middle.
“I’m sorry, Tom. My powers are new, and I don’t have a lot of control yet. When I get revved up…” She shrugged unhappily. “I’m going to fix this, I promise.”
Cautiously, Tom pulled himself to his feet. Giving her a wide berth, he stepped over to the pumpkins and tentatively put out a hand. Some sort of energy rose off the glossy orange surface, and as Tom stroked a hand along the skin, still amazed that they were real, he was shocked to feel his cock harden so swiftly his knees started to buckle. Groaning, he leaned his forehead against the pumpkin.