Spells of the Heart

by Ellen Dugan

  Luna narrowed her eyes, flipped her tail high in the air and stalked off. A knock on my back door had me turning.

  Duncan was there, the afternoon sun shining down on his dark blonde hair. He wore jeans, a thin, snug orange t-shirt, and scruffy converse sneakers. Just seeing him standing there smiling at me had my heart leaping in my chest, and every muscle tightening.

  Down girl, I told myself. I cleared my mind and greeted him with a casual tone. “Hi.” I opened the door to let him in.

  “I came by to check on you. What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Cleaning up some kitty mischief.” I started to tuck the bag into the retro metal kitchen can, but the can was full from last night, so I set the lid aside and began to lift out the trash bag.

  “Here let me,” Duncan offered, and reached for the bag.

  The smell of chocolate and cherries hit us both at the same time. The cake! I realized too late. “Oh shit,” I said. I’d never gotten rid of the rest of that Chocolate Sin cake!

  Duncan’s hands closed over the plastic bag, and his eyes jumped to mine. “You dumped the cake in the kitchen garbage can?”

  “I did,” I managed to say, even as the aroma became suddenly intoxicating. Some part of my brain registered that it shouldn’t have still smelled like that—not that wonderful—especially after being discarded the evening before.

  “The cake’s been sitting in here all night?” Duncan snatched his hand back, and I dropped the liner back in the can. We both backed away from the metal garbage can like it was radioactive.

  A light feminine laugh echoed throughout the kitchen and the overhead lights clicked off. To my amazement a pink glow began to emanate from the garbage bag.

  “Uh-oh,” I said as the fragrance of chocolate and cherries intensified and filled up the room.

  Duncan grabbed my arm and pulled me back. He pushed me behind him, like he’d been expecting some sort of magickal explosion, or for Irene to materialize, but nothing happened. Instead the fragrance faded, and the glow melted away as if it had never been.

  After a moment, I peeked out from around him. “Okay that had to be one of the weirdest—” I started to say, when Duncan leaned over and dropped his mouth on mine.

  Now there was an explosion. I felt it detonate in my chest, as all the longing and lust we’d heroically squelched down the night before was ripped loose.

  God I couldn’t stand it! I thought. We grabbed each other and were lost. It was a battle of teeth and tongues. I nipped at his mouth and he chewed on mine. I had to touch him, right this second. I yanked his t-shirt up, tugged it over his head and dropped my mouth to his chest.

  Those chest muscles were stronger, and more defined since the last time I’d been with him. While he held my head to his chest I sampled those pecs and cruised my mouth down to his belly. Had to taste him, had to have him, I thought and dropped to my knees, yanking at his belt buckle.

  “Autumn,” his voice was strained.

  “I want you,” I told him, staring up into his face. “Right now.” I pulled his zipper down, tugged his briefs out of the way, and was rewarded with the proof of his desire.

  “Baby, wait,” he began.

  “I’m not waiting anymore,” I said.

  Duncan let out a strangled cry as I pleasured him. He wrapped his hands in my hair while I showed him how much I had missed him, and reminded him of what we’d once shared.

  “Autumn,” Duncan gasped, and I smiled as I felt the tremor that ran up and down his body.

  I was enjoying being the initiator, and had no intention of stopping. My hands explored his body and I delighted in the fact that I was in complete control of the moment.

  I was surprised when he pulled me away from him. He yanked me to my feet, stepped out of his clothes, and hauled me to the living room. He pushed me to the sectional and I landed on my back, propped up on my elbows.

  “I wasn’t finished with you,” I panted, reaching for him.

  “I haven’t even started with you yet,” he said and took my glasses off. Duncan set them on an end table and turned back to me. “I’ll be gentle,” he said and tugged my shorts down my trembling legs. The contrast of the gruff voice and the tender motions made me clench my jaw.

  “Duncan,” I said through my teeth.

  He paused. “Yes?”

  “Don’t be gentle.”

  He froze for a split second, and then ripped the blouse right off me.

  Hearing that fabric shred made me want him even more. “Duncan!”

  He dropped down and kissed me breathless. I reached for him again, but he evaded at the last second. He shoved my bra out of the way and latched onto my breast. I hissed when I felt the edge of his teeth. Duncan’s fingers slid between my legs, teasing and testing, until I couldn’t take the waiting any longer.

  I wrapped my arms around him and rolled us off the couch. We landed with a thump on the living room floor. Duncan started to laugh until I quickly shimmied over him. The laugh became a strangled groan as I eased down, guiding him inside me. I rolled my hips, he slid even farther in, and I threw my head back shouting in triumph.

  His hands covered my breasts as I began to rock. The energy danced around us, pulsing and slowly filling up the room with power. It had been a long time since I’d allowed my personal power an escape during sex. It was liberating and it only added to our pleasure. We moved together, both taking and giving generously to each other as our magicks burst free.

  ***

  It was full dark when I woke up. Still on the living room floor, and sprawled across Duncan’s very fine chest. He was dropping tender kisses on the top of my head, and his hands were all over my ass.

  “Mmmmm,” I managed, and I began to nibble on his shoulder.

  “Babe.” Duncan sat up with me still wrapped in his arms.

  “Yeah?” I murmured, sampling his shoulder.

  “I want you. Again.” His eyes gleamed in the dark.

  “Yes,” I said, pushing him back to lie on the floor.

  “No.” He stopped me by clamping his hands on my hips. “You had your turn being in charge.”

  “Yes, I did.” I leaned down so we were nose to nose. “Are you going to tell me that you didn’t like it?”

  “Well maybe...” Duncan trailed off with a grunt when I reached down and gave him a warning squeeze. “It all happened so fast,” he said in a teasing tone that had me laughing.

  “Aw, you’re so brave.” I kissed him on the mouth. “Fought me off like a tiger, too.”

  “I’ve never known you to be so aggressive.” Duncan chuckled. “I like it.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “I liked being in control.”

  “I noticed.”

  “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  He stood in one motion, with me still in his arms. “Let’s take this upstairs.”

  My breath caught from the casual display of strength. He carried me to the stairs, and then wisely set me on my feet. I took his hand and led the way up to the second floor. I stopped in front of my room, and he pushed the door open and tugged me inside.

  I squinted at the bed and back at Duncan. I couldn’t see clearly without my glasses on, but as he stepped closer, the energy that radiated off of him had me gulping hard. Not sure what I’d let off the leash, I went to the bed and tugged the quilt and sheets down.

  I hadn’t quite straightened up when he wrapped himself around me. Now he pushed my hair out of his way and dropped kisses on the nape of my neck. His strong hands guided me to lie back on the sheets.

  “Like this,” he growled, arranging me as he preferred. “Stay just like this.” Duncan knelt and began kissing my knees and cruising his mouth higher. I tilted my hips back and helplessly higher as he teased me with his mouth, never quite landing where I needed him the most.

  “Duncan!” I demanded.

  Finally he stopped tormenting me and I let out a little shriek as his tongue licked and stabbed at my core. He nudged my legs
farther apart, and didn’t let go until I was shouting from my own release. I tried to catch my breath as he climbed up over me. My heart was racing when he pulled me close, and thrust home.

  “God, I’ve missed you.” I heard him say.

  All I could manage was a strangled gasp. His pace was leisurely at first. Soon that changed when I began to move helplessly against him. Duncan pulled my legs up higher, and it pressed him even deeper inside. The feeling was incredible. I wrapped my legs around him and hung on for dear life.

  And I discovered something. Allowing him to set the tone and pace was every bit as exciting as being in control myself.

  ***

  I sat soaking in the warm water of the claw footed tub in the upstairs bathroom. Bubbles floated across the surface of the water, and soft Celtic music played in the background. My back was resting against Duncan’s chest and I reclined in his arms, totally content. There were several candles flickering in glass votive holders on the counter, and the atmosphere was decadent and romantic.

  It was only me, Duncan—and the cat. Luna sat on the closed lid of the toilet and stared, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of us.

  “This is a great old tub,” Duncan said.

  I tipped my head back to grin at him. “I’m becoming rather fond of it myself.”

  “How are you feeling?” Duncan asked.

  “Relaxed, happy,” I sighed. “And you?”

  “The same.”

  “We controlled our magick,” I said. “Mostly.”

  “I don’t think we blew anything up that first time on the living room floor.”

  “I sure hope not,” I said wryly. “I just finished the reno.”

  Duncan laughed at that. “Well, if we did, I’ll fix it for you.”

  I rested my head against his shoulder. “There wasn’t even a single flicker of a light bulb. I’d say we’ve gained some control of our sexual energies when they combine.”

  “Remember our very first time?” Duncan wiggled his eyebrows at me.

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “We blew up lights, and fried the clock.”

  “Those were the days,” Duncan said, and that made me laugh until he silenced me with a lengthy kiss.

  We lingered in the bath, and once the water cooled we reluctantly got out. I slipped a robe on, and Duncan came downstairs with a towel slung low over his hips. I put my glasses back on, and grinned when I saw our clothes scattered all over the floor of the kitchen and living room. I picked them up and handed Duncan his shorts.

  Duncan got dressed and immediately carried the bag containing that leftover cake out back to add to the outdoor trash cans. He went directly to the sink and washed his hands thoroughly afterwards, and I put a few sandwiches together and we sat at the kitchen table, eating a late dinner. Afterwards we cuddled on the couch and I asked him to stay.

  Without a word, he stood and held out a hand. We went straight upstairs and back to my bed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  As the sun came up Sunday morning we lingered over a goodbye kiss on the back porch. I would have liked him to stay for the day, but I had an appointment at the museum at eleven o’clock. I waved as Duncan headed towards his truck and couldn’t help but wonder how the family would react to the news of Duncan and I being back together.

  When I arrived at the museum’s meeting room I met with Olivia before the other Historical Society members arrived to deliver the flyers I’d designed for the upcoming fundraiser. I was happy to help her out, as I genuinely liked the older woman. We’d spent several lunch breaks talking about gardening over the past year at the museum.

  I’d only began to ease out of the way of the meeting when I was stopped by one of the elderly members. “Oh.” She peered up at me through thick glasses. “You’re the new Bishop girl.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I answered politely. It didn’t seem to matter that I’d lived in William’s Ford for four years, I was still to the locals—the ‘new’ Bishop girl.

  The woman patted her curly white hair. “You’re the one who bought the yellow bungalow, that house that belonged to Irene, aren’t you?”

  “Yes ma’am, I did.”

  “You taking up where Irene left off?”

  Her sly words had my stomach roiling. “Excuse me?”

  The woman sent me a crafty smile. “Well, you know, that Irene Bishop, she had power,” she said.

  Before I could work up a polite response, Olivia stepped forward. “Mabel, why are you pestering Autumn?”

  Mabel adjusted her thin sweater over her shoulders. “I’m not pestering her, I’m only curious.”

  “Autumn.” Olivia latched onto my arm and began to steer me away. “I was wondering if you’d help me bring out the snacks.”

  “Sure.”

  We stepped through to the kitchenette off the meeting room. “I’m sorry about that,” Olivia said quietly. “Mabel Watkins is a gossipmonger and completely rude.”

  “Well, I have to admit that she caught me off guard.” I headed towards a tray of cookies and lifted them.

  “I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone asked you,” Olivia said, hefting a tray of pastries.

  I frowned. “Before someone asked me what?”

  Olivia stopped and met my eyes. “Whether or not you were going to be following in your ancestor’s footsteps.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said, deliberately playing dumb.

  “Your great-aunt, she was a miracle worker.” Olivia’s voice was sincere, and I was shocked at the difference in her description of Irene as compared to Carol Jacobs’ from the day before.

  “A miracle worker?” I repeated.

  Olivia beamed up at me. “Why if not for her, my sister would have never had any children.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not following you,” I said cautiously. “Did she recommend a doctor or something?”

  “Please don’t insult my intelligence.” Olivia huffed out a little breath. “I understand that you’d be discreet when it comes to your family, but sweetie, you don’t have to hide anything from me.”

  “I see.” And I was starting to. Olivia knew about the legacy of magick. I read the woman, checking her aura. It was shimmering in a vibrant shade of orange. “So you’re claiming that Irene helped your sister in some way?”

  “I’m not claiming anything. I’m stating facts. Irene worked miracles for my sister. I know, because I was there.”

  “I’d love to hear about that,” I said and took the heavy tray from her. “I have very little first-hand information about the woman.”

  Olivia nudged the door open with her hip. “And I bet what you have heard hasn’t been very complimentary.”

  “Not so far,” I admitted.

  Olivia shook her head. “People are often afraid of what they don’t understand.”

  The phrase so often used by Witches had me reconsidering her. “Are you a practitioner, Olivia?”

  “Me?” Olivia chuckled. “No, I’m a mundane.”

  I smiled at the older woman. “Your aura doesn’t read like one. Are you sure you don’t have any gifts?”

  “Well I’ve got my feminine intuition, and I figure that’s more than some folks ever even think to use.”

  I followed her towards the conference room. “Olivia, why don’t you drop by my house after the meeting and we can talk?” I invited her. “I’d like to hear about yourexperiences.”

  “I’d enjoy that,” Olivia said as she entered the meeting room. The noise of a couple dozen people swelled. “Give me a couple hours and I’ll be over.”

  I set the trays down on the table and nodded at Olivia. “Perfect, I’ll see you later.” Leaving the historical society to their meeting, I went up to my own office.

  ***

  I was sitting on the bench on my front porch in jeans and a casual t-shirt when Olivia whipped her compact car into my driveway. Cheerfully, she exclaimed over the front gardens, and I ushered her inside and gave her a little tour. I couldn’t he
lp but chuckle over her excitement to see the renovations to the bungalow. We settled at the kitchen table, and Luna hopped right up into her lap as I brewed my guest a cup of tea.

  Luna preened over the attention while Olivia made kissy noises over the cat. “I have something for you,” she said fishing inside of her handbag.

  I accepted a five by seven inch photo from Olivia. It was an old black and white picture. I studied the group of twelve people posing so formally. “Who’s this?”

  “This is a photo of the members of the Historical Society from 1965,” Olivia explained. “Your great-aunt Irene is in the photo, along with some members from the other significant families in William’s Ford.”

  I raised my eyebrows at her emphasis on the word. “Significant?”

  “Yes.” Olivia took the photo back. She pointed to Irene, and I marveled at seeing the woman in her late thirties. She, like her sister Faye, were striking women. Her chin was lifted and I caught the impression of both elegance and pride.

  “She was beautiful,” I said.

  “She truly was.” Olivia pointed to the photo again. “See the men standing next to her?”

  I tucked my hair behind my ear. “The nice looking guy with the beard?”

  “That’s Phillip Drake,” Olivia said, sliding her finger over farther to the right. “And here is his brother, Silas Drake.”

  Silas Drake. I jolted. Even Silas Drake was cautious of Irene, Carol Jacobs’ voice played back in my mind. “These Drake men,” I began, “are ancestors of Thomas Drake, I assume?”

  “You assume correctly,” Olivia said. “Silas was Thomas Drake’s father.”

  I studied the photo of Duncan’s grandfather and great-uncle. Silas had dark hair and eyes, and I saw some resemblance to Thomas. While Phillip was more classically handsome, as a matter of fact he reminded me a little of Julian. But Silas...there was something shadowy there, even his photo gave me the creeps.

  “I can see some similarities to the modern day Drakes.” I tried to sound casual, even as I rejoiced that Duncan didn’t resemble either of the men.

  “I thought you might enjoy having a photo of Irene,” Olivia said. “I found this the other day, and wondered why I felt compelled to make a copy of it. Now I know why.”