Something Wicked (6 page)

"I can't, love," he said, reading my mind.
"This is your fantasy, I'm just along for the ride. But why don't you take
your other hand and explore a little lower?"

I hesitated and he met my eyes, encouraging me.

My right hand plunged under the water, and sliding down
the curves of my stomach until it found my mound. I pressed the heel of my hand
against my pelvic bone, sucking in my breath sharply when my finger found my
clit.

"That's it," Finn moaned. "It makes me so
fucking hard to watch you."

The little nub engorged as I pressed my finger against
it. Pinching my nipple harder, I moved my finger slowly clockwise while I
watched Finn rub up and down his thick cock. He was close enough that I could
almost feel the heat coming off his body while we worked simultaneously to
bring ourselves to orgasm.

"Slip a finger inside your pussy," he ordered,
almost breathlessly. He didn't steer me wrong yet, so I obliged, plunging my
finger into my warm, wet center.

"Curl your finger forward," Finn demanded.
"Find the small rough ridge against your outer wall. Did you find it
yet?"

"Yes," I moaned softly, sliding a second finger
in and stretching myself further to reach my g-spot.

"You are so hot," his voice was rough, ragged.
"I want to fuck you so hard."

"Me too," I panted, moving one hand from my
breast to my clit to continue massaging while gliding a third finger in, aching
to fill the emptiness that only his cock would satisfy. 

"You going to come, baby?" The strain in his
voice told me he was close.

"I don't know," I moaned, wanting the release
an orgasm would bring, but disappointed that it would bring the end to our
fantasy.

"Not sure I can wait for you," his face twisted
in pleasure. "We need to do this together."

I nodded, focusing on the sensation building deep inside
me.

"Focus on what you need," Finn's voice was so
breathless, I could barely hear him. "What do you need the spell to
do?"

The spell? Dammit. The spell! The realization threatened
to yank me out of my fantasy, but the walls of my pussy tightened around my
fingers, bringing me back to my orgasm. I tried to refocus on Tara and her love
spell as spasms of pleasure enveloped me. Finn's moans quickened, and knowing
he was coming sent me over the edge. My focus turned to him and me, and our
intense pleasure as we climaxed together.  

I opened my eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the
sunlight. The rush of the waterfall beside me filled my ears. My bikini top,
now completely liberated from my body, floated in front of me. My face felt
flushed from both the orgasm and embarrassment. Did I really just do that? Did
I really just do that in a public place? And did I really just do that with
Finn as my fantasy man?

Snatching my top, I paddled towards my shorts and panties on
the shore. The cold water was bringing my body heat down fast, and I was ready
to get out. Luckily, I was still alone in the swimming hole.

Just as I started pulling myself out of the water, I heard
rustling along the hiking path. I dropped myself back into the water ducking
just below the rock that held my shorts and panties. I reached for them, hoping
to grab my shorts and get them on in the water, to hell with the soggy bottoms.
My fingertips just brushed the ragged hem of my shorts, but I could not stretch
quite enough to grab them.

Just this side of panic, I decided on a Hail Mary maneuver,
pulling myself up on the rock, scraping my exposed breasts along its rough
surface in my bid to grab my bottoms. Just as I stretched my hand out to catch
hold of my shorts, a pair of Teva sandals crossed my sightline. I followed the
tanned ankles up to a pair of muscular calves that were attached to some solid
quads just peeking out of a pair of khaki cargo shorts. I was afraid to look
any higher.

A familiar voice rose over the sound of the rushing
waterfall. "Not leaving much to the imagination there, are you?"

I froze.

Oh. My. Goddess. Finn.

 My bare ass was completely exposed. I slid back into the
water and clutched the bikini top against my chest.

"If you were a gentleman, you would turn your back so I
could get out," I managed to croak out.

Finn just laughed at me. "Skinny dipping does come with
its share of risks."

"I thought I was alone," I retorted, glancing up
over the rock and staring at his feet, hoping to see them facing away from me. No
such luck.

"Will this make you feel more comfortable?" he
asked, dropping his shorts around his ankles. Expecting boxers, I looked up and
saw all of his manhood, and half way to a hard-on at that. And it looked
exactly as it did in my fantasy. My heart raced, and I hid lower in the water.
Finn jumped over my head and into the pool.

He surfaced, long dark curls slicked back, and gave me a
curious look. "What are you doing here?"

"Swimming," I said quickly, thinking about how he
invaded my fantasy, and about the book resting on the rock. At least I closed
the damn thing. I hoped to hell I wasn't blushing.

"Skinny dipping," he corrected me with a laugh.
"You were skinny dipping."

"So what if I was," I said, lifting my chin
defiantly.

"Nothing. Just not exactly in character."

I turned my back to him, placing the fabric triangles over
my breasts. "Well you know nothing about me."

"I guess not," he mused.

I struggled to tie the bikini strings. The water churned
around me, and I felt Finn's warm breath on the back of my neck. He took the
ties around my back and began working on them, his fingers brushing gently
against my skin, sending small jolts of electricity down my back. My still
swollen lower lips ached for his fingers to spend a little time with them.

"Thanks," I said, turning abruptly and stepping
back. I was in such a rush to move away from him, I didn't realize he hadn't
finished tying off the strings around my neck. Still holding the end, the bow
unraveled and the fabric triangles dropped.

I froze in mortification, boobs out, nipples rigid from the
cold water.

"You don't have to cover up on my account," he
said.

I crossed my arms in front of my breasts, trying to tamp
down the memory of that incredible orgasm. But it was damn near impossible. The
real Finn was right in front of me, drops of water sliding down his cut, muscled
chest. His cock was waiting for me just below the surface, and my body was
primed and ready for him.

I gulped. "I think I'll just get out now."

I waited for him to turn so I could climb out of the pool
without exposing myself. Again. But he stood his ground, his deep brown eyes
followed me intently.

"Maybe you could, you know, not pay attention while I
do this."

He crooked his head and gave me a smile. "Why? I kind
of like you like this."

"Like what?" I grumbled. "Humiliated?"

"Vulnerable. A little shy. Slightly unnerved." He
swam closer, circling me. "Almost makes up for the toilet flush the other
day."

"That's what this is about?" Anger swelled inside
of me, but the heat of it only intensified my desire for him.

"Nope."

He dove underwater, and I gasped, dropping my hands from my
breasts to my crotch, to cover myself. My finger slid against my slick opening.
Goosebumps of pleasure sprouted on my skin.

When he came up for air, he was directly in front of me,
about three inches of water was all that separated our naked bodies. I shivered
at the proximity.

"You should really get out of the water," Finn said,
an amused smile spreading across his face. "Your lips are blue."

I sputtered, wondering what he meant by that. Did he see my
lady bits? Could they be blue?

When he reached out and gently touched my face, running his
thumb across my lips, I cursed my dirty mind. I tried to refocus on my
predicament, but I longed to feel my naked breasts against his hard chest,
rubbing my breasts along the contours of his body.

Instead, I turned away. I hauled myself up over the rocks,
not looking back, not caring that I was completely exposed. I just wanted to
get out of the water and away from Finn. My unexpected attraction to him felt
dangerous. I needed to put some distance between his very naked body and my
own.

I scrambled out of the pool, legs flailing, kicking water
all over the place. Once out, I hauled ass across the rock, fumbling with my
bikini top at the same time. Not having the patience to deal with locating my
underwear, I jumped into my shorts. Commando it is!

I pulled them up with one hand, while I held the bikini top
against my chest with the other. Once my shorts were over my hips, I worked on
the top. But my fingers were stiff from the cold water, so tying my bikini top
was a bigger challenge than I anticipated.

"Need some help?" Finn called over.

I heard him splashing around in the water. "Nope! No!
Thank you!"

Oh, Goddess, please no! I was ready to drop on the rock and
beg him to take me. His delicious body in such close proximity threatened to
push me over the edge.

 Fighting with the bikini top was getting me nowhere, so I
ripped it off in frustration and reached for my tank top, yanking it on.

"Finn," a voice sing-songed from somewhere in the
woods. "Where are you?"

My stomach knotted. He was here with a date?

"Izzy..." Finn started, but I was not interested
in anything he had to say.

I turned and feigned cool and detached, like I did not just
have a mind-blowing orgasm while fantasizing about my whore of a housemate.

"Finn's over here," I called out sweetly, then
lowered my voice to address him. "You really should think twice about
creeping up on a woman when you are playing hide and seek in the woods with
someone else."

Finn's face darkened. He started to say something but I
raised my arm, giving him the internationally known talk-to-the-hand gesture.

I turned my back to him and snatched up my undergarments. Shoving
my bikini top and panties in my back pocket, I collected my iced coffee and the
heavy spell book and stalked away from Finn. Once out of his eyeshot, I picked
up the pace. I wasn't interested in coming face-to-face with the girl that was taking
what I could only have in my fantasies.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Amanda must have had an early class and left for campus
already. By the time I got home, her car was gone. Grateful to have the house
to myself for a few hours, I raced up to the attic, locking the door after me,
hoping there was something in my family's old grimoires that would help me
figure out this weird witchcraft.

Grams never told me about this kind of magic.

Plus, I needed something to occupy my mind. My head was a
mess on the entire drive from Diana's Pool. My anger towards Finn faded with
the memory of my orgasmic fantasy. Then my brain would snap back to that
high-pitched voice calling out to him in the woods, and my indignation would
rise again.

Dust particles sparkled in the sunlight streaming through
the old windows as I yanked several old grimoires
off the rickety wooden
shelves. Sneezing, I slumped to the floor and opened the one on top of the
pile. It was a great-great-someone's book, the pages brittle and yellowed. The
family member that this spell book belonged to must have been a teacher.
Written in red pen, her handwriting was precise. The witchcraft was
interspersed between various food recipes, and the overabundance of aspic told
me that this was from the 1950s. Suzy Homemaker Witch was definitely not an X-rated
June Cleaver. I pushed it aside.

Finding nothing in the first six books I grabbed, I snatched
a few more off the shelf and leafed through those. There was an amorous
relative from the late 19
th
 Century, who kept her Book of Shadows
more like a diary, sketching in amusing images of her beloved. While it
detailed some of their frisky romps (in eye popping detail) with a willing
group of other witches, it said nothing about using the acts to cast any
spells.

There was a hard knock on the attic door, and I jumped up
from surprise.

"What?" I yelled, expecting Amanda to yell back
about having lunch or something.

"Hey, can I come in?" Finn responded, and I heard
him try the doorknob.

I froze.

"We need to talk," he continued after my short
unresponsive pause.

I found my voice. "Now is not a good time, Finn."

I wasn't lying. I didn't bother changing after Diana's Pool,
so I was still in my damp shorts and tank top, sans under garments. The ease of
removing them did not escape me. And there was a very good chance that I would
if Finn walked through that door right now.

"Come on, Iz," he kicked at the door. "It's
important."

"How about later?" I called back.

"I'm working later, and so are you," he huffed.

"Where's your girlfriend?" I immediately cringed
at how pathetic that sounded.

"She's not my..." his voice trailed off and the
picked up again, this time louder. "Come on, Iz, open the door."

I closed my eyes, escaping back into my Finn Fantasy. Blood
raced to my nether regions and my boobs betrayed me, nips perking up at simply
the sound of his husky voice. My pussy ached. "Seriously Finn, I just cannot
stop what I am doing at the moment."

I snapped the book shut in frustration, and dust flew up
into my face. That kicked off the sneezing fit.

"You okay?" he called.

"I'm fine!" I shouted through my snot. "I am
in the middle of something and even though you disapprove of it, it's important
that I figure this thing out."

"Fine, Iz." Now he sounded annoyed. "Just
come to the bar later, we need to talk."

"You said that already," I muttered to myself
before switching my tone from stressed-and-horny to lighthearted-and-nonplused.
"I'll swing by when I'm done at the frat house, okay?"

I could use a drink anyway, even though I really couldn't
afford it.

The silence told me that Finn had given up, so I continued
to plow through the books.

After about 30 more minutes of searching, I unearthed a
small thin volume, barely bigger than a size of a modern paperback. The cover
was a plain hard black, and its pages were torn, the writing worn away in
places. A date at the front put it at the end of the 17
th
 century, somewhere
around Dunkeld in Scotland.

Cousin Niall was a randy fellow! The bulk of his spell work
was ripped out of the book, but his copious notes on the acts themselves
remained. Maybe it was more dangerous to be busted for witchcraft than for
imaginative copulation back then. Man or woman, he happily obliged all sorts of
kink. And he didn't only chronicle the acts with incredible detail, he noted
the outcome of the spells he was casting. Based on his lore, he wielded some
powerful spells, powerful enough to be sent to the castle to council William
II.

I leaned against a garbage bag of old clothes and dug into
the pocket-sized book. My body reacted to his 17th Century porn. Breathing
deep, I tried to focus on the task at hand. Like, how the hell was all this
supposed to work anyway?

The doorbell pulled me out of my cousin's sexed up memoirs.
I peeked out the window and saw an unfamiliar car in the drive. I tucked the
gifted Book of Shadows and Naughty Niall's memoirs under my arm and headed
downstairs, ready to kick my midday visitor to the curb. They were probably
selling something.

I yanked the front door open. "Thanks, but I'm not
interested."

"Um, excuse me?"

The man at the door looked startled. He had stylish, black-framed
glasses and slicked back blond hair, and looked uncomfortable in his suit, like
a kid playing dress up. He brushed an errant lock of hair away from his face,
which was buried in the manila folder he carried. "Isadora Foster?"

"Yes?" I raised my eyebrows at him and balanced
the books on my hips. He looked familiar.

"I'm Daniel Stevenson," he said, not glancing up
from whatever he was reading.

"Danny?" I gasped, dropping the books in surprise.
This was frat-hole Danny? I barely recognized him all dressed up.

This time, he made eye contact. "Oh wow, it's you! The
girl who cleans Pike."

I bit my tongue to keep from blurting out, "Yeah, the
girl that cleans your piss off the toilet seats." Instead I bent over to
pick up the scattered grimoires.

"Didn't the loan office tell you I was coming?" he
asked. I glanced up at him and noticed that his eyes landed uneasily on my
boobs, still braless under my tank top.

I clutched the tomes to my breast as I straightened to full
height. "What loan office? About what?"

"About the money your grandmother owes, for the home
equity line."

"There must be a mistake," I responded. "I
paid that off, with her life insurance."

He leafed through the manila file. "No, there was an
equity line of credit taken out about 8 months ago. For $25,000."

"I don't know anything about that," I said, my
heart beating harder. The last thing I needed was another debt collector at the
door right now. "I'm sorry, what bank did you say you were from?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, it's not a bank. I am
with a private loan company."

"And that is?" I pushed, my heart sinking further
as he stammered out his answer.

"Richmond Stevenson, my father," he said.
"I'm sorry."

I exhaled loudly. Richmond Stevenson. Great. The
"loaner of last resort." One step above pawnshop. Barely.

"So learning the loan shark business from daddy?"
I said coldly.

"It's a legitimate business," he said, his voice
rising.

"What's the vig?" My voice cracked as I asked.

"The what?"

"The vig."

His cough sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh.
"You mean interest rate? We really aren't loan sharks, you know. It's
entirely reasonable. Why don't I come in and we'll talk about it?"

"You can just leave the paper work right there on the
porch. I'll have my lawyer take a look at it," I lied. My lawyer was
Amanda. She was not a lawyer, or even a law student, but she was smart as hell
and pretty ruthless. If anyone could find a loophole, it was Amanda.

"I really need you to take a look at it now," he
said, loosening his tie. "No payments have been made since your
grandmother's...you know. And we need to get that cash flowing again!"

He smiled, and sweat beads sprouted on his forehead.

I chewed the left side of my bottom lip. "How do I know
this isn't some scam to cheat a grieving granddaughter out of money she doesn't
have?"

He ran the back of his hand across his forehead. "Isadora,
please," he swallowed uncomfortably. "This is a standard agreement
for an Equity line of credit. And it becomes the responsibility of the next of
kin to repay it. It's no trick."

"My mother is next of kin, not me," I said, hoping
I found the loophole all on my own.

He shuffled through the folder. "From my understanding,
your mother is officially a 'missing person' and this house was willed to you.
That makes it your responsibility. I'm sorry."

I gritted my teeth. Grams dug this hole raising money for
her fruitless effort to get my shiftless mother home.

"Look, no offense, but I only know you as some rich
asshole from the frat house I clean. I am not going to just write you a check
until I know this is legit."

"Okay, I get what your saying. But my dad's getting
impatient. Didn't you get the notices?"

"What notices?"

He looked almost chagrined. "The notices we sent about
the loan transfer. One notice came with a condolence card. For the, you know,
burial."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I
snapped. "Sorry for your loss, now pay up?"

I cleaned up this asshole's puke off the bathroom floor.
Arrogant bastard graduated college and walked straight into a plum career with
Daddy while still living rent free and partying down with his "bros."
The unfairness of life landed a sucker punch to my gut.  

"I can't go back to the office without a check,"
he pleaded.

"Looks like you have the rest of the day off."

I slammed the door on him and stomped up the stairs. I
needed to get in the shower and get ready for work. Maybe Johnny had a good
date last night. Then he could go on a bunch more so I could pick up more of his
commercial cleaning shifts.

Hugging the books to my chest, I scampered down the hallway
and into my room. That spell needed to work. I was running out of options. And
time.