Bewitch Me - A Halloween Collection

by Rede, Lily

  “We did it,” he said shocked.

  “Did what?” asked Isabella, stroking his hair.

  He jumped up, scrambling off the couch as she sat up, bewildered.

  “Look!” he exclaimed, pointing at his groin.

  His impressive member, still damp, was half-hard, but no longer the turgid, impossible hard shaft, swelling at supernatural speed.

  “Oh, thank fuck,” Trent murmured, slumping down on the coffee table in obvious relief.

  Isabella reached for the afghan on the back of the couch, suddenly feeling shy and uncertain.

  “That’s great,” she said, “I’m glad we worked it out.”

  He looked up at her, frowning, and suddenly Isabella didn’t want the Big Talk. Reality had a way of crashing the party, and Isabella was still too rattled by epic sex to deal with the fact that now that she’d cured her dream man of his chronic boner, he was free to go be almost-engaged to some society princess. It was enough to harsh her afterglow. Wrapping the afghan around herself, she hurried toward her bedroom.

  “I need a shower,” she said lightly, “and we’ve both got an early morning tomorrow, so…”

  “Isabella!”

  His tone was puzzled, and very, very pissed. Isabella quickly stepped into her room and locked the door, beelining for the shower, where she could cry in peace, and he wouldn’t have to be offended by her magical bath loofah or the array of potions on the counter.

  TRENT SAT NAKED ON Isabella’s coffee table, wondering what the hell just happened. One minute he was so relieved that he wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life as a walking banner that screamed inappropriate, and the next, he was being ditched for the comforts of a hot shower. He debated trying to follow her, but though incredible sex and the ability to think now that there was blood rushing somewhere other than his cock made him feel much more charitable about the situation, he was still wary of her abilities.

  If she’d wanted me there, she would have said so.

  He’d come over to solve a problem. They’d resolved the issue, and hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem again. Sourly, Trent yanked on his clothes, not bothering to button his shirt or don shoes as he let himself out.

  You don’t need a woman who looks at you as a sex toy anyway, he advised himself as he washed his hair in the shower later that night.

  But Isabella didn’t, not really. She could have left him like that, permanently hard and suffering, but instead she’d given herself to him, so thoroughly and guilelessly. Trent was astounded. And worried. How could he marry a woman like Nicole and settle for a cold, emotionless arrangement? It hadn’t bothered him, but now that he’d had a dose of real passion from a sweet, sexy witch, Trent didn’t think he could go back.

  Isabella looked at him like she wanted more.

  Trent cautiously tested the idea in his mind. He’d have to accept her world. He’d have to be okay with her magic. He’d have to apologize for nearly marrying someone else.

  “What was I thinking?” he muttered, punching down his pillow and rolling to get more comfortable in bed, wishing Isabella were there beside him, curled up in his arms, her warm curves against his body, his mouth in her hair.

  Breaking up with Nicole didn’t take long. She was shocked for a moment, but when he explained it calmly over lunch drinks at the club, she nodded, kissed his cheek, and wished him the best. He shuddered to think about how easy it was to dismiss the man she had been planning to spend the rest of her life with. She’d probably have another candidate picked out by dinner time. Trent had a feeling that if a man ever pulled something like that with Isabella, she’d turn him into some amphibious abomination. The thought of Isabella with another man had Trent’s stomach clenching.

  No way. Mine.

  Later that day, he knocked on her door. There was clatter coming from inside, so he knew she was home. When she didn’t answer, Trent took a deep breath and tested the handle – unlocked.

  “Isabella?” he asked, easing the door open.

  Trent’s mouth dropped open at the whirlwind inside – brooms, mops, and magical dusters whisked around the apartment of their own volition, their mistress nowhere in sight, the cat watching the chaos nonchalantly from the countertop. But a heavy bass beat pulsed from the second bedroom. Avoiding the flying cleaning implements, Trent moved to investigate.

  Isabella was in jeans, a sports bra, a ripped t-shirt, a dust mask, and goggles, her hair pulled back into a braid as she chipped away at a giant slab of marble with a chisel and hammer. Chips flew everywhere. The music was heavy and sexual, and Isabella didn’t notice Trent at first. She raised the hem of her shirt to wipe sweat from her neck, giving Trent a nice view of her smooth torso and curvy breasts strictly confined. She tugged down the dust mask and reached for a bottle of water on a nearby table, freezing as she spotted Trent.

  “Sorry,” he began, “I knocked, but the door was open.”

  “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Langley?” she asked, cool as a cucumber, and Trent’s heart sank.

  “I wanted to tell you that I broke up with Nicole,” he said, determined to soldier through it.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. She wasn’t what I wanted.”

  “You seem to change your mind about what you want a little often for my taste,” noted Isabella, and chugged half the bottle.

  “No, I’m just stupid about knowing what that is at first,” said Trent, “and between the glitter and the magical sex…I got a little turned around.”

  “It was the lack of sex that was the hocus pocus. There wasn’t anything magical about the sex itself,” Isabella said.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” said Trent, and yanked her against him.

  The chisel and hammer fell to ground with a clank as his mouth found hers. He pulled off her goggles to kiss her properly, drunk on the scent of Isabella and dust.

  “And since I don’t need you going into sexual withdrawal on me again, I am going to make it my mission to keep you filled with cock morning, noon, and night.”

  “Sounds packed,” she breathed.

  “Oh, it will be.”

  He caressed the curves of her ass.

  “Are you sure?” asked Isabella, “I want more than just sex in a relationship, you know.”

  “I’m sure. But we have to start somewhere, right? Let’s start with what we know we’re good at. Then tonight I’ll make us dinner and you can tell me everything there is to know about yourself.”

  “That’s totally backwards. You’re on. You know, witches don’t generally date mortals,” said Isabella, tilting her head to give him better access to her throat.

  “Maybe we’ll start a trend,” replied Trent, nibbling his way toward her shoulder.

  “We can learn from each other.”

  “But first, let’s go make a little magic,” said Trent, and hiked her up to wrap her legs around his waist, heading for the door.

  “What a lovely idea,” said Isabella.

  THE END

  MY FAIR HEX

  “HAVE WE FUCKED BEFORE?”

  The voice at her ear was arrogant, seductive, and unmistakable.

  Lea tugged the tight corset up another inch and wondered for the millionth time if she was in over her head.

  “I think I would remember that.”

  FOUR HOURS EARLIER, LEA Gillingham sprawled on Tricia’s bed amid a mountain of discarded potential outfits. Her simple white cotton bra and panties looked plain against the vibrant swatches of silk and lace in every color of the rainbow.

  “This is crazy. Tell me not to do it.”

  “Don’t do it.” Tricia pulled yet another option out of her seemingly endless wardrobe, her green eyes sparkling with knowing amusement. The sassy redheaded witch was thrilled that her mousy best friend was finally going to go after what she wanted in the very pleasing shape of Kirk Rhodes, the powerful head of Human Relations for the city’s entire magical community. He was in charge of diplomacy, goodwill, and making sure tha
t the humans remained oblivious, unaware that they shared their fair city with witches, fairies, vampires, and other magical but law-abiding creatures that could so easily be misunderstood.

  And Lea wanted to fuck him. Badly.

  It wasn’t just that he was tall and strong and built like a Greek god. It wasn’t just the stormy blue eyes or the hair so black it glinted blue, the magic he wore like a second skin, or even the smooth charm he turned on and off like a faucet. For Lea, it was a completely non-magical spark, a moment of connection whenever they were in the same room, working together, breathing the same air, arguing over procedure.

  She’d been overwhelmed by him from the moment they met. Lea remembered her job interview. She’d applied on a whim when Tricia noted that the man was desperate for a competent assistant. Kirk had swept in, glanced at her résumé, and given her a quick once-over, clearly not impressed by her drab, boxy suit. He proceeded to ask a series of rapid-fire questions that had her struggling to ignore her reaction to his sheer animal magnetism long enough to answer coherently, and then hired her on the spot. Her first day at the office, Lea had been amused to find that the man that held such power in the palm of his hands, that human and magical citizens deferred to without question, could barely work a computer, and had no concept of scheduling. Within a week, she’d reorganized his filing system and turned the office into a well-oiled machine. Within two weeks, it felt like they’d been working together for years.

  Within a month, she was half in love with him.

  Idiot.

  Six months later, Lea knew it couldn’t go on like this. She couldn’t focus, and lying in bed at night, wondering what his rough hands would feel like on her skin, left her anxious, stressed out, and unable to sleep. The fantasies about his hard body, his harder cock, and his arrogant confidence were driving her crazy, and her vibrator was barely getting the job done anymore. She confided in Tricia, who, as always, gave it to her straight.

  “You either have to quit, or you have to fuck him and then quit.”

  Lea rolled over on the bed to let her tiny dragonfly wings flutter, frowning as she remembered the conversation. Tricia was right, of course. She couldn’t keep working for the man, knowing how she felt about him and knowing, too, that he’d never see her as anything but his assistant. She loved her job, but this was killing her. But if she was going to go, she was damn sure going to take the memory of one spectacular night of pleasure with her. Which brought her back to Tricia’s bedroom and Lea’s risky, stupid, so-crazy-it-might-work plan.

  “Those wings are so hot, girl. I don’t understand why you keep them covered. If I had pixie wings, I’d be showing them off!”

  “They’re not professional, Tricia. The last thing I need is the guys at the office thinking I’m easy because I’m yet another blonde, brainless, pixie bimbo.”

  “You’re only half a pixie bimbo, sweetie. The other half is all witch.”

  “And how do you think I ended up that way? Dad was a young warlock working for the mayor, Mom flashed her wings at him one night in the elevator, and BAM.”

  “It’s icky that you know that.” Tricia wrinkled her nose.

  “Tell me about it. Mom has no off switch.”

  “Well, tonight at the Halloween Ball, you’re not going to be a witch or a pixie, Lea. You’re going to be a drop-dead-come-do-me-succubus, and Kirk isn’t going to be able to keep his hands off you. Or his tongue, or his – ”

  “I get it, thanks.”

  Tricia held up a lavender corset and a tiny matching skirt.

  “This is the one. Come on, let’s get your face on.”

  The spell was a tricky one, but Lea had followed the directions meticulously. Being only half-witch, she needed Tricia’s help to pull it off.

  “Are you sure I should just do my face?” She was dubious as she stood in the bathroom over a portable cauldron that bubbled with turquoise goo.

  Tricia rolled her eyes.

  “We have to practice you looking in the mirror once in a while, Lea. Every succubus in the city would kill to have your curves. Not to mention those legs. Personally, I think you should just lock Kirk in his office and strip down. I guarantee he’ll notice.”

  “He won’t come near me if he knows it’s me.”

  “Then he’s an idiot.”

  Lea glared at her.

  “I don’t want to have this argument again. Look, I don’t want him to feel obligated to try for more than he has to give, and I don’t want the gentle rejection. I just want a night of mindless hot sex to tide me over until the next time I’m stupid enough to fall for someone who’s out of my league. It doesn’t matter what I do. He looks at me and sees a filing cabinet.”

  “Tomorrow we’re going to get seriously drunk and have a little discussion about what is and isn’t your league,” Tricia sighed.

  “Are you going to help me, here? I don’t have enough magic to set the spell on my own.”

  “Fine. But I want to lodge a formal protest.”

  “Noted. And I love you.”

  “Of course you do. You know this is only going to work because he’s a total warlock whore.”

  “Yeah, I’m trying not to dwell on that.”

  Lea dipped a hand in the goo and smeared it all over her face.

  “Ready?” Tricia asked, and Lea nodded.

  The incantation was short, and Lea frowned as her friend finished the last line.

  “Did you do something different? That didn’t sound quite right.”

  “I may have tweaked it just slightly.”

  “Tricia!”

  “Oh, keep your panties on. Or don’t, I should say. I know what I’m doing. Who is the experienced professional here, hmmm?”

  Lea turned to the mirror, anxious, and excitement flared as the spell started to take hold. The goo absorbed into her skin, tingling as it took effect. She was thrilled to see her eyes lighten from baby blue to silver, her cheekbones become more pronounced, her face more angular. Lea’s golden curls, usually held captive in a strict bun, straightened and changed color to pure white, with the violet streaks that marked her unmistakably as a succubus. Lea shrieked and grabbed her best friend in a tight squeeze.

  “Just remember,” Tricia murmured, “Whatever happens, I just want you to be happy.”

  “I’m going to be,” Lea vowed.

  “HAVE WE FUCKED BEFORE?”

  The succubus in the lavender corset made a futile attempt to pull the tight material an inch higher over a pair of rather spectacular tits, and Kirk raised an eyebrow. Succubi weren’t known for their modesty.

  How novel.

  “I think I would remember that.” Her voice was husky and a touch…nervous? The sound of it had his cock hardening with interest.

  He thought he’d remember it, too. Kirk had slept with a lot of women over the years, both human and non, but this succubus was a prime example of her species – large, round, succulent breasts, legs a mile long leading up to a curvy little ass and a tiny waist encased in a miniscule silk skirt. Her face had sharp features and silver eyes, along with the naturally two-toned hair that marked her as a succubus, but there was something he couldn’t put his finger on, something fascinating, something different. Different would be nice.

  Kirk had entered the ballroom that night feeling weary. Ordinarily the council’s massive Halloween Ball was a chance for everyone to go a little crazy, to let their fur, feelers, or tentacles down and have a little fun, blow off a little magic, engage in a sexual romp or two. He loved it. Being a creature of power himself, he knew how important it was to indulge once in a while. Kirk had discovered, upon coming into his powers as a teenager, that his magic was firmly tied to his sex drive – both needed to be exercised and regularly satisfied to avoid a dangerous buildup of power. Lately, however, Kirk had found the whole thing a little tiresome, and was troubled by the idea that mindless sex might not be enough for him anymore.

  I should cut back, he thought to himself, but knew that wasn’t a r
eal option. But maybe it was time to consider regular sex with just one person, like a girlfriend. The idea was a little terrifying. Kirk had been on his own for as long as he could remember, and the thought of getting close to anyone new was unnerving. He didn’t make true friends easily, unable to turn off the inner politician. One of the few was Hunt Radler, his first lieutenant, who was always pushing him to let people in.

  The other was Lea, which was a surprise. Practical, efficient Lea, who had a way of making him feel cared for and centered. Within a few days of hiring her, he wondered how he’d ever done without her. She knew him better than anyone except Hunt. Kirk frowned, realizing that he knew almost nothing about her personal life except that she was at least part witch. He’d have to change that.

  Where is she?

  He scanned the ballroom, a majestic space off the main offices of the council’s downtown office building, with Grecian columns and a stunning mosaic floor. Picking out any particular face in the boisterous costumed crowd was impossible. The party was in full swing, and it was only a matter of time before a few rounds of drunken fighting broke out, or possibly an orgy.

  The succubus in front of him ran her hands down her hips and Kirk forgot all about Lea. He scrutinized her face and those incredible breasts.

  “Your tits look familiar. Are you sure I’ve never fucked you?”

  She looked a little nonplussed, but Kirk dismissed it. Spending all his time smoothing ruffled feathers and playing the diplomat with work, he had no patience for romance in his sex life. He wanted all the cards on the table, so there could be no misunderstanding. He liked his sex hard, deep, and in control.

  “Pretty sure.”

  “We’ll have to remedy that.”

  She licked her lips.

  “You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet. Maybe I’m not interested.”

  “A succubus not interested in sex?” He was incredulous. “I’m Kirk, by the way.”

  “I know.”

  Her eyes widened as he put his hands on her hips to pull her flush against him, reveling in her soft heat.