Passion & Pumpkins (3 page)

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 his 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.

“And there’s that.” Cass was breathless, and he turned to look at her, pushing through the sudden lust that fogged his brain to focus on what really mattered at the moment.

“You did this.”

“I did.”

“And you can turn them back.”

“I think so. Maybe.”

“And you’re a witch.”

“Yes.” The last was said so quietly, he barely heard it. “I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t say anything to anybody, once I fix this. I’d understand if you did, but I love my home. I don’t want to have to move.”

She wasn’t looking at him and that irked him, but what irked him more was the thought of her packing up and vanishing from his life without a trace. A few hours ago the highlight of his life was the chance at having tea in Cass Webster’s kitchen, but now –
she’s a witch.
He shook his head, incredulous, but the evidence was right in front of him. Magic. Witches.

She was a witch this morning
, he reminded himself,
and last night when you danced with her body pressed so close you might as well have been naked…

“The sparkles at the block party. That was you.”

She nodded miserably.

“Until two weeks ago I didn’t have any powers at all, honest to God. My family thought I was a dud. And then suddenly,
whoosh.
”

She sighed, and the husky sound wove through him. Almost involuntarily, Tom palmed his aching cock, swallowing a whimper as Cass’ eyes followed the movement.

“So you tried to warm things up. That doesn’t explain why my pumpkins are now gigantic and, for lack of a better term, in heat.”

Cass licked her lips. “I may have a tiny crush on you that got a little…amplified.”

Tom didn’t need to hear that. Not now. He’d been nurturing the little spark between them, hoping for more, desperate not to scare her away. The knowledge that the lust coursing through his body, tightening his muscles and drawing his balls up tight, all came from
her
was enough to bring him to his knees.
So you turn her on. A lot. Hallelujah. Table it, Owens.

With epic self- control, Tom pushed aside thoughts of screwing Cass blind against one of the throbbing gourds and the whole “witches are real” mind-fuck, and focused on the immediate problem.

“How do you turn them back? Is it a spell, or – ”

Cass stared at him.

“Come on, Cass. You grew them, you can shrink them, right?”

“In theory, yes.” She twisted her fingers together, tight. “I haven’t quite figured out how to get my powers to do what I want. Or to stop showing up at inappropriate times.”

“Maybe if you didn’t work so hard to control them, they’d stop fighting you. You’re overthinking it, Cass.”

“That’s what my sister Ivy says, that I should just go out and – ”

“And what?”

Cass blushed.

“Nothing.”

Tom noted with interest that with her blush, the pumpkins pulsed hard. Everything clicked into place as heat thrummed along his senses. Cass’ eyes widened as he stepped toward her like a lion stalking its prey.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking your mind off of things.”

He fitted his hands to her waist as his mouth came down on hers.
Hot, wet, spicy.
Cass’ taste exploded through him and he groaned, ignoring her gasp of surprise to pull her close, tangling their tongues together. He had started with the theory that if the pumpkins were seething cauldrons of lust, Cass might be too, and releasing some of that sexual tension could only help the situation. The moment his lips touched hers, all pseudo-rational thought went out the window. He wanted her. He needed her. The desire coursing through his veins burned away his restraint with a few hot licks. All that mattered was Cass – touching, tasting, and feeling her come apart underneath him. Her coat pooled at her feet, pushed aside by impatient hands, quickly followed by his shirt, and he sucked in a breath as those delicate fingers he’d fantasized about explored the muscles of his back.