by Lily Rede
PASSION & PUMPKINS
By Lily Rede
PASSION & PUMPKINS
Copyright 2012 by Lily Rede
All Rights Reserved
First Kindle Edition, September 2012
WARNING: This work contains explicit depictions of couples engaged in consensual sex and sexual situations. If you’re under 18, read something else!
ADDITIONAL WORKS AVAILABLE AS SINGLE TITLES
Hot for Joe
Build Me Up
Pour On the Heat
ANTHOLOGIES
Hot & Sweet - Beginnings
Email Lily at [email protected]
Twitter: @RedeLily
PASSION AND PUMPKINS
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.”
<
br /> “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.
She hadn’t planned on attending the party, but temptation was curling around her.
Tom asked me to dance.
This morning, she was sure she could never handle it, but the lure was strong, and the thought of being held hostage by her newly awakened powers was aggravating.
She could handle a party, for a few minutes at least. A couple of glasses of cider, a few minutes to chat with the parents of the students that lived in her neighborhood…
A chance to have Tom Owens wrap those strong arms around me.
Swallowing nervously, Cass reached for a pair of jeans and a soft sweater.
She could do this.
Fifteen minutes later, Cass hesitantly approached the revelry down the block. She was relieved when ten-year-old Susie Pratt rushed forward to tug her toward the refreshments table to show off the blobby cookies she had made herself. Cass had always felt more comfortable around children than adults, and praised the little girl for her efforts. She glanced around – the party was in full swing, with a band playing music for couples swirling around the dance floor, Halloween games and pumpkin carving stations, and enough food and drink to feed an army.
Cass spotted Tom by the pumpkin table, lighting the jack-o’-lanterns and putting them on display as the children finished them. As usual, he looked good enough to eat, and apparently she wasn’t the only one who thought so – Viola Perkins was sticking to him like a barnacle in tight purple leggings, her manicured nails stroking the soft leather of his jacket. To his credit, Tom didn’t seem terribly interested in taking her up on her blatant invitation, and Cass took a few deep breaths, relieved when the surge of magic churning in her belly settled down again. Susie tugged on her jacket and handed her a cup of cider.
“Thank you, Susie.” She smiled at the little girl and took in the party around her, content to stand on the edge and drink it all in. Reminding Tom that he’d asked her to dance was too much, even though she was dying to be in Viola’s place, petting the hard muscles underneath that jacket. Maybe in a few minutes she’d work up the courage to go say hi. Maybe.
IT TOOK TOM ten minutes of advanced evasive maneuvers, but he finally managed to get
rid of Viola Perkins. The woman was determined, and while at one point Tom had been flattered by her eagerness to get into his pants, she couldn’t take a hint. Besides, where Viola was all aggressive attitude with a side of man-eater ruthlessness, Cass was gentle seduction, heady and addictive. Tom knew without a doubt which one he preferred.
He’d spotted Cass the minute she showed up, hovering by the refreshments with little Susie Pratt, too nervous to go say hi to the other neighbors. One or two approached to strike up a conversation, and she always seemed pleased but a little surprised, making hesitant small talk and basking in the unexpected attention. Tom had deflected Viola by pointing her in the direction of Bill Hoss, a widowed contractor. Hopefully the divorcée would decide to sink her claws into a new target.
Tom couldn’t help the jolt of anticipation as he sidled up next to Cass.
“Hey.”
She gasped and started, and he reached out to steady her, taking her hand. She must have bumped the table, because a dozen brownies tumbled to the ground, seeming to leap off their place on the platter, bouncing to the ground.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“That’s okay. I’m just a little jumpy.”
He hadn’t let go of her hand, and watched with interest as a fine pulse beat in her throat and a blush crept into her cheeks when he rubbed a slow circle into her palm with his thumb. He liked that she responded to such a simple touch. He like that a lot.
“Those look great.” She waved her free hand at the jack-o’-lanterns.
“Thanks. The kids did a great job. But now my duties as the King of Pumpkin Town are finished, and I’m hoping you’ll take me up on that dance.”
He felt the nervous tension in her hand, but the flare of heat in her eyes was going to incinerate him, and he let out a breath as sooty lashes dropped down over those blue pools of fire.
“I should probably go – ”
She tugged gently, but he didn’t release her hand. He slowly started moving them toward the dance floor, where the band had struck up something slow and sweet, perfect for sweethearts. The floor was crowded with couples who turned curious glances in their direction. Tom saw Cass tense up and sensed impending flight, and impulsively wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
