Magic and Mayhem: When You Witch Upon A Star (Kindle Worlds Novella) (8 page)

Chapter Fourteen

A
musing and impressive. Those were just a couple of the words Gina and I used to describe the French cooking demonstration Rollan provided, in French. His long-winded narratives for each ingredient and each step became a bit of a joke between us. I’m sure the bottles of wine Rollan brought added to our antics. Tiago even joined in, repeating French words that we found to be impossible to pronounce.

Gina found an online translator but it didn’t help. Rollan only spoke faster, slurring the words into long French strands. We couldn’t figure out where one word ended and when another started.

We typed in his last name, Laveur. It meant ‘washer,’ which was obviously an apt description for his dishwashing joint at the diner. I was worried that he’d made up a false name, which begged a question. Why?

I typed in ‘raccoon’ and translated it to French. The result was
raton laveur
. I nearly swallowed my tongue. “Gina! Look at that. Isn’t that nearly the same as his name?”

“Holy crap! Hey lover boy, how do you say raccoon in French?” She shouted her question. The wine had an amplifying effect on her voice.

His response, like the rest of his French, was unintelligible babbling.

“See? Not the same at all. Lover boy said it’s rooey-tooey-looey Huey Louie Dewey.” Gina cracked herself up, nearly falling to the floor in a drunken laughter.

A tiny suspicion percolated in my brain and I mulled the questions that arose after using the online translator. Was Rollan’s last name an easily-devised fraud? Were his full first and last names truly similar to the translation of raccoon?

All of this aside, something powerful surged through me as I watched Rollan prepare the French cuisine. In certain company, I might say I had a strong desire for Rollan. But in all honesty, I was drunk with lust.  My eyes were drawn to Rollan’s body and my senses recalled every erotic detail.

Something new was happening to me. My body was still responding to everything Rollan and I had done that afternoon. And I mean everything: that sexual kiss, his hands and mouth on my breasts, how I rocked myself on top of his hard body, the way his tongue flickered over exactly the right places before it penetrated me. And let me just say it explicitly: He curled that tongue in me, darting it in and out until my mind was wrecked. And that doesn’t even include the magic he worked with his fingers.

“Prepare yourselves for the best French cooking in Gooseberry Corners,” Rollan declared.

“As long as it’s not snails, I’m fine,” Gina said.

When Rollan took his seat next to mine at the table, I thought about all the things I’d done to him. Graphic images of how I’d stroked him flashed through my mind. Before too long I was eating with one hand, the other caressing the inside of his thigh. I grasped his semi-firm bulge, relishing how it hardened at my touch. As I continued to find novel ways to discreetly tease my lover, he reciprocated. His hand lightly brushed between my thighs, expertly tormenting me.

The meal went on forever, like way too freaking long. I wanted Gina to go, because I had a craving for my dessert. I’m sorry, but as far as virtues go, patience is overrated. Mine wore thin as the meal dragged on. I saw nothing wrong in speeding things up and, with a little encouragement, Gina finished the wine.

Finally!
Gina struggled with her chair, and rose to her feet as shaky as a newborn fawn. Swaying from side to side, she pointed a wobbly finger at us. “Jesh, Jeshica. Don’t do anything you wouldn’t. No. That’s not right. Do anything I do. Never mind. Try Cosmo’s last August issue. And as for you, lover boy.” Her finger shook only inches from Rollan’s nose. “That’s you. Thanks for the meal. It was dee-eee-lish. Better rememmer what we talked ’bout.” She dragged the edge of hand across her throat while making the obligatory gurgling sound effects. “’Kay, lover boy? G’night.”

Gina literally spun away from the table. Her dramatic twirling exit made her look more like a wooden top wobbling down the hall. “C’mon Tiago, serenade me to sleep. Do you know ‘Rocky Raccoon’?” Once again she cracked herself up, laughing until she snorted. Tiago flew past, piloting her to the bedroom.

Now, Gina and I both have the grace and agility of three-legged giraffes. And that’s stone sober. Falling up the stairs, twisting an ankle, or tripping over a couch were par for the course with us. An unspoken agreement had grown out of two klutzes living together, and we always looked out for each other’s safety.

That night, I broke the deal by leaving her intoxicated ass to bumble and stumble to bed alone. Naturally, I kept an ear open for any sounds of distress. Sure enough, the thumps and bumps came as expected.

I lifted Rollan’s hand from my leg. “Ugh, I knew I should’ve gone with her. Hold those lewd thoughts, Rollan. I’m going to check on her.”

“Just one question: Would you like to go to my place later?”

“Ah… I think I’d like to stay here… with you.” I thought of the pile of technology in my room. “You know, the living room is pretty cozy… and private.”

I peeked in and saw Gina squirming on her mattress. She inched toward her pillow in slow, caterpillar-like movements. “You look like you’re crawling through sand, Gina.”

“It’s too far. Never mind.” She snagged a floppy stuffed animal that at one time might have been a bunny. “Puff makes a good pillow. I’ll use Puff.”

Tiago fluttered over Gina, draping a little pink chemise top over her back.

“Hey, before you fall asleep, I have a quick question. By any chance, do you have some condoms?”

She stared at me, puzzled by my apparent stupidity. “Silly, why would I have condoms? I don’t have a dick.” She was completely sincere.

Once her wine-soaked brain processed our conversation, she suddenly laughed so hard she started slapping the mattress with both hands. “I—I don’t have dick. Don’t even know—dick!”

“Goodnight, Gina. Come on, Tiago.” Tiago returned to the kitchen and I closed the door. Within moments, Gina’s soft snoring told me I was free to pursue what I’d been waiting for.

Chapter Fifteen

T
he soft glow of several candles magically created a romantic setting. Rollan must have been busy setting the mood. A futon mattress had been dragged out to the middle of the floor, leaving little doubt we had the same plans for the night.

The advantage to the old house was that the living room had a door. It had always seemed to be in the way, but for once I was grateful for the toe-stubbing thing. I shut it behind me, wearing a hungry smile that would make a wolf proud.

“This powerful thing, this force… I don’t even know what to call it, Jessica. I’m drawn to you like a moth to the light. I think you put a spell on me.”

Needless to say I was taken aback, just a bit. “What? A spell?” You talk like I’m a witch or something.” My mouth felt dry. I swallowed and scolded myself.
Damn it! He’s just teasing you. Try not to get defensive. Keep it light.
“Be careful, moth. Sometimes a light turns out to be a bug-zapper. For the record, I promise not to zap you.”

Rollan’s hands slipped around the small of my back, his lips brushing the side of my neck as he whispered, “If you were a witch, I’d gladly be under your spell.”

His warm breath on my neck turned me on like never before. I whispered, nearly panting, “Whatever you’re doing to me, don’t stop.”

From the kitchen, Tiago surprised us with a bluesy
a cappella
rendition of “I Put a Spell on You.” I’ll be damned if that bird didn’t sing it so amazingly well that we slow danced in the flickering candlelight.

Rollan’s kiss was just as erotic as before, except this time his hands slowly removed my clothes. With each effortless movement, my body was exposed to his loving kisses. All the while, my hands worked on his shirt and belt until I finally dropped to my knees and slipped his jeans away. He was swollen and firm, and I took a few minutes to appreciate every inch of his body.

My mouth and tongue slowly guided me back up to his neck as I rose up, consciously gliding my breasts over each ripple of his toned physique. I reached down and grasped his hard shaft with a firmer grip than before, pressing its head against the folds of my waiting body. It was my unspoken signal for him to take me. Rollan’s response was swift and breathtaking. His arm reached down behind my knees, his other arm behind my back, and he lifted me up, swiftly laying me down on the futon mattress he’d set out on the floor.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to see garbage thrown on the floor as I was when I noticed a condom wrapper flip from his hand.

We kissed again, our tongues dancing with more urgency than before. My hands swept up from behind his neck to his back, pulling him closer to my opened legs. I was more than ready for him when he entered me. If there was an initial sting, I was too lost in the passion of the moment to notice.

Our bodies found a rhythm, creating sensations that sent my mind into an altered state of sheer ecstasy. Shadows danced on the walls and the light from the candles became more intense. The world around us seemed caught up in the crescendo of my building climax.

And that climax didn’t disappoint. I felt wanton and purely savage as my writhing body met Rollan’s long thrusts.

Then things got really, really weird.

The fluctuating intensity of the candles drew my gaze away from Rollan’s eyes. To my surprise, the candles were indeed taking part in our passion. In a gravity-defying display of the supernatural, seven candles levitated and circled above us. With every revolution they stopped and darted to switch places.

It didn’t take long for me to recognize the pattern created by the traces of their glowing flames. It was a pentagram inside a circle. And as any fool knows, an encircled pentagram is a magical symbol.

“I bet Cosmopolitan never had an article about this crazy shit,” I mumbled.

Rollan, his passion finally spent, stretched out next to me on the futon. The candles gently settled back to their original places. The show was over. “So, it’s true. You are a witch.”

“Wait. Why aren’t you freaking out? I know I sure am. And why did you say that?”

“People have been talking. I overheard Sophie from the Evergreen talking to Wanda and Dee Dee. She told them how you tried to heal a raccoon with magic. Only a witch would try that. Sophie told them about a witch named Zelda and how she thinks you might be a witch too. Apparently, she’s not sure why you’re here. I think they’re observing you. Trust me, you hear all kinds of things in that kitchen. There are very strange things happening in Assjacket.”

“Then I am going to ask you something. I want the truth. Are you or are you not a Shifter, a raccoon Shifter?”

“You mean a shapeshifter or something? Of course not! Is that what that was all about on our walk today? Why you said what you did, and why Gina was following us with those special goggles? If you think I’m the raccoon you hit, you’re wrong.”

“Yes. I’d ask if you thought we were crazy but… you are way too cool about this. You’re not flipping out about the candles, or the fact that I’m a witch. And just to be clear, I’m just a beginner. I don’t know what any of it means for me yet. You know more, Rollan. If that’s even your real name. So let’s put all of our cards on the table. Right here and now.” I gently ran my hand over his chest. I wanted him to know I was looking for honesty, not an argument.

“Fair enough. My name is really Rollan. Now comes the secret. I’m a fairy, one of the last of my kind. Like you, I don’t even know what it means. I was adopted and grew up in a perfectly normal home with a perfectly normal French family. When I was eighteen, I decided I wanted to learn about my birth parents, but guess what? There is no record, other than a letter that was left with me as a baby. It’s in a strange language that nobody understood. I spent two years in Paris working on deciphering it.”

“Were you able to finally translate it?”

“Mostly. Thanks to a scholar who studied ancient languages, it was determined to be a language associated with the fairies of Lorraine, France. The letter said I was the last of my kind, unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless I mated with a witch.”

“Great.”

“Hey, I wasn’t attracted to you because I thought you could be a witch, it’s because of you, Jessica. Witch or not. Unless you actually put a spell on me. Finding out you are a witch just adds a whole new level of possibilities.”

“But I’m guessing you didn’t get to this town by accident.”

“No, I heard a rumor about witches, so here I am. You’re the first one I’ve met.”

“And I came here to document a Shifter, to study one.”

“So, now what, Jessica?”

We’d never stopped touching each other and my body was still ready for more.

“Kiss me, and make love to me until the sun comes up.”

Chapter Sixteen

T
he next morning, I made a call to my cousin Kelly.

“Hey Jessica! You doing okay? How’s the Shifter hunt going?”

“I haven’t seen as much as a whisker of a Shifter, but I found something much more… interesting.”

“Ah, so what’s his name?”

“Rollan. He’s French and super-hot. Which is why I called. I have a question about something personal.” I bit my tongue before I spilled the fact that I’d been romantically involved with a fairy. It would be just my luck for the Union to have something to say about that.

“Be warned, anything you say can and will be used against you at Christmas dinner,” Randy’s voice chimed in.

“Am I on speaker?”

“Not anymore. Go ahead and ask your question. Don’t worry about Randy, this is between us girls.”

“All right, I’ll just be blunt. It’s about sex. Hypothetically, say a witch is having incredibly great sex with lots of orgasms. She notices the candles in the room are floating in midair, spinning around and tracing out a pentagram. What does that mean?”

“Wow, Jessica! Hypothetical my ass! Sounds like your French guy bonked your brains out. Good for you.”

“What about the supernatural phenomenon?”

“It means you’ve been smokin’ up some top-shelf cheeba, girl,” Randy shouted. “Save some for me!”

An eardrum-thumping crack shot out of my phone. “Christ! Stop hitting me on the back of my head. The lump it leaves makes a big speedbump in my hair,” Randy whined.

“Quit eavesdropping, bitch,” Kelly scolded him. “Sorry, Jessica. I have heard of that happening. Marie Laveau told me it happened to Gertie once. Apparently a witch with poor control of her magic can sometimes experience a condition called premature evocation.”

“Premature evocation?”

“Yep. It can happen when a witch is overcome by sexual or emotional stimuli. I wouldn’t worry about it. Marie said almost half of us witches will experience it. But seriously, don’t sweat it. Premature evocation is a temporary condition, and with more experience it’ll go away.”

“Way to go, Jessie. You blew your magic load all over the room,” Randy had again stuck his nose in.

“Excuse me, Jessica. I have to go bludgeon my brother to death and throw his corpse into the Chicago River. Give me a call anytime!”

After my conversation with Kelly, I thought about what she’d said: “Sexual or emotional stimuli.” How inconvenient. I could just imagine how dangerous it could be for an afflicted witch who got caught up in a PMS-fueled rage. God help us.

After I explained to Rollan about the witches of Assjacket and the witches in my life, we swore to keep our secret identities to ourselves. As far as anyone was concerned, we were a young couple enjoying a summer romance.

There was one giant elephant in the room that I didn’t want to acknowledge. Rollan’s admission to being a fairy was all well and good. In fact, it was very interesting and fell perfectly in line with my cryptozoology research. No, the elephant was that little caveat about Rollan being the last of the French fairies. He needed to mate with a witch in order to preserve his race. When the afterglow of multi-orgasmic magic sex faded away, the elephant stampeded around the room.

Mated? As in a lifelong monogamous relationship with said witch, otherwise known as marriage? And would the witch be expected to produce multiple litters of French fairy babies over the course of the arrangement? Good God Almighty. I imagined newborns, babies, toddlers and kids by the dozen swarming over me.
Vive la France!

Or was he simply talking about ‘mated’ in the physical Discovery Channel sense? You know, the physical act of animals copulating. Was that it? Did fairy prophecy dictate that if the last male fairy found a witch and got laid, the race would be saved?

Several questions needed to be considered. None were small matters. Nope. Several big fat raging elephants stampeded through the room.

How did I resolve it? I played it like the Chicago Bears: When in doubt, punt. I’d take the issue up with Rollan later. Procrastinating is not hard to do with a distracting guy like him. He was hot, hot, hot and so was the sex. As the weeks went by we found ourselves getting more adventurous, spontaneous, and even a tad kinky.

I didn’t even get to pursue my scientific examination of him. I’d start out trying to find out what a fairy’s abilities were, and one way or another I’d wind up on the receiving end of a big, hard, insatiable fairy cock.

As far as Gina’s quest for romance, she had come to a dead end and needed my help.

It had been two weeks. Two long weeks of watching Greg walk through the door, his eyes following Gina. It went the same way every time. Gina would be as friendly and flirty as she could be but Greg still didn’t ask her out. He’d drink a glass of water before she came to the table. He fiddled with the silverware and he’d clear his throat. He tried but always failed to get the nerve up to ask her out. He had a longing gaze as she walked away.

Gina wished and hoped for him to just say the words.
I
wished she would finally give up waiting on Greg and simply ask him out herself. But Gina wasn’t about to take the risk of being turned down. This little dance went on and on until I was ready to just slap the shit out of Greg. Honestly, I wanted to slap them both.

It was day fifteen. “I don’t know what else to do, Jessica.”

“Have you tried giving him a lap dance?”

“No. But I have an idea.”

“You’re going to finally ask him out?”

“Let me try this first. Watch.” Gina held up her hand and showed me one of the elongated spiral suckers Dee Dee had set up for sale by the register. The multicolored candy was seriously six inches long and two inches wide. Gina lifted it to her slightly parted lips and explored the tip with her tongue.

“What are you doing, Gina?”

“That’s what I’m going to do in front of Greg when I take his order. Pretty good, right? It’s something I’ve been dying to do for a long time. With the real thing on the right guy, of course. I even read the Cosmo article about how to give the guy you’re with the best oral. I bet it’s going to drive him crazy.”

“I’m sure it will. Take a look over there, Greg just sat down. Go on—suck it, girl.”

Gina carried through with mimicking the techniques recommended by her well-studied magazine article. She pleasured that lollipop all the way to his table. Kneeling down at the side of the booth, presumably to take his order, she continued to display her newfound talent for fellatio.

The show was having an effect on Greg, that’s for sure. He squirmed in his seat like a cornered mouse. Then disaster struck. Gina stood up and just before turning away she tripped over one of Greg’s colossal feet. From my vantage point I couldn’t see exactly how it happened, but the next thing I saw was Gina, doubled over and literally choking to death on her phallic lollipop.

Greg grasped the lollipop’s stick, jerking it out of her mouth. He held the saliva-coated candy high in the air, full of pride, like he’d just caught a trophy bass.

Gina bolted out of the dining area like a wild rabbit freed from a trap. Greg stood up, obviously clueless about how to react. He blew his opportunity to find her, choosing to leave the diner instead.

I knew she’d headed for the back door and was outside behind the diner. “Gina, are you okay?”

“I guess so. A little embarrassed, a little pissed off, and very frustrated. I want
him
to ask
me
out. That’s important to me, for some reason that’s completely unknown to me. I’m sure it’s something totally ridiculous. Christ, what can I do to get that guy to make a move on me? I practically made that lollipop come and he still didn’t try to pick me up.”

“This is what I think, Gina. He’s afraid, unsure, and probably shy. I think you’ve done all you can to motivate him, more than enough. Anyone can see he’s completely infatuated with you. The only thing he’s lacking in is confidence. Because of that, I’m not so sure he’s the right guy for you. Anyway, he left the diner already.”

“Maybe you’re right. I should give up now because if I try any harder I’ll get arrested. If he asks me out that would be great, but I’m not going to get my hopes up.”

Gina went back inside, but there was a little less bounce in her step. I hated to see her spirit broken.

It was time for me to intervene. How? Like Uncle Carmine always says, “If you want someone to say yes, you’ve just got to make him an offer he can’t refuse. If you know what I’m saying.”

That night I browsed through Gina’s collection of magazines, selecting those with a certain range of articles that would be necessary to carry out my plan. I stashed them in a shoulder bag along with several other tools of the trade.

The next morning I watched the clock. It was 7:55. Greg always came in at 8:00.

“Gina, cover me for a few. I left my phone and purse out in the car.” She nodded and I went outside and prepared to ambush Greg.

His silver pickup truck pulled over to a parking spot near the corner and I didn’t hesitate. As soon as he stepped out of the cab I confronted him.

“Hey, Greg. Come with me around back, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Um, okay.”

He followed me into the alley where I’d already prepared a place for the demonstration. An old sheet of plywood stood upright, supported by a stack of pallets. Fishing around in my shoulder bag I started my prepared speech. “You like Gina?”

“Yeah, of course.”

One by one I took out six shiny throwing knives. Without warning I threw one perfectly into the plywood. “I’m pretty good with these. I was taught by one of the best in the business: my mom. She’s in jail right now for nailing a guy’s nutsack to a sheet of plywood.” I threw another knife, sticking it next to the first. “Just like that.” Greg jumped at the sound the knife made as it found its mark.

“I want you to be honest. How much do you like her?”

“A… a lot. She’s the most perfect girl I’ve ever seen. I’ve been trying to get the nerve to ask her out. But she’s too pretty for someone like me.”

“No, she likes you too. And guess what?” I threw another knife. “You just got your nerve, unless maybe you’d like to stand over by that plywood? Get my point? The pun is intentional.”

Greg swallowed nervously. “I get it.”

“This is what you’re going to do. First thing this morning, you are going to ask Gina to go on a date this Saturday.” I handed him a stack of magazines. “Each of these magazines has a post-it note marking an article that you will read by this Friday. Study every one of them. They will teach you everything you need to know about what Gina wants in a man. How to be a perfect date, how to kiss her, and several romantic things to do for her.”

“Oh.” Greg’s eyebrows arched up and he eagerly began reading the magazine covers.

“If for some bizarre reason Gina should ever be interested in having sex with you in the future, you need some education. To prepare you, I’ve included several articles on sex tips and techniques.”

A silver and black butterfly knife danced effortlessly around my fingers. “I’m not kidding, Greg. Don’t mess this up. Be nice to her and respect her, she deserves it. I also want you to tell her what you like about her. Ask her questions, get her opinions, and let her share her ideas. A woman is a human being, not a blow-up doll to do with as you wish. Are you man enough to do these things, Greg?”

He thumbed through the articles, stopping momentarily on one titled “Teach your partner to give you mind-altering oral sex.”

“Ah, yeah, I think so. I really like her.”

“Good. Now get your ass in there and ask her out. Remember, I can slice your dick off from forty yards away.”

Barely a half hour later, Gina bum-rushed me. “It happened! He finally asked me out. This Saturday.”

“Great! Did he say where?”

“I asked him and he said he wasn’t sure but we could talk about it this week.”

“Now we’re cooking with fire!”